TARTUFFE (inglise keelne)
The choicest tidbits to him; if he belches,
('tis a servant speaking) [2]
Master exclaims: "God bless you!"--Oh, he dotes
Upon him! he's his universe, his hero;
He's lost in constant admiration, quotes him
On all occasions, takes his trifling acts
For wonders, and his words for oracles.
The fellow knows his dupe, and makes the most on't,
He fools him with a hundred masks of virtue,
Gets money from him all the time by canting,
And takes upon himself to carp at us.
Even his silly coxcomb of a lackey
Makes it his business to instruct us too;
He comes with rolling eyes to preach at us,
And throws away our ribbons, rouge, and patches.
The wretch, the other day, tore up a kerchief
That he had found, pressed in the /Golden Legend/,
Calling it a horrid crime for us to mingle
The devil's finery with holy things.
[Footnote 1: Referring to the rebellion called La Fronde, during the
minority of Louis XIV.]
[Footnote 2: Moliere's note, inserted in the text of all the old
editions
annaabi.ee 
