The Shopkeeper Turned Gentleman
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Moliere (Poquelin) >> The Shopkeeper Turned Gentleman
PROF. PHIL. Will you learn moral philosophy?
MR. JOUR. Moral philosophy?
PROF. PHIL. Yes.
MR. JOUR. What does it say, this moral philosophy?
PROF. PHIL. It treats of happiness, teaches men to moderate their
passions, and....
MR. JOUR. No, none of that. I am devilishly hot-tempered, and,
morality or no morality, I like to give full vent to my anger whenever
I have a mind to it.
PROF. PHIL. Would you like to learn physics?
MR. JOUR. And what have physics to say for themselves?
PROF. PHIL. Physics are that science which explains the principles of
natural things and the properties of bodies, which discourses of the
nature of the elements, of metals, minerals, stones, plants, and
animals; which teaches us the cause of all the meteors, the rainbow,
the _ignis fatuus_, comets, lightning, thunder, thunderbolts,
rain, snow, hail, wind, and whirlwinds.
MR. JOUR. There is too much hullaballoo in all that; too much riot and
rumpus.
PROF. PHIL. What would you have me teach you then?
MR. JOUR. Teach me spelling.
PROF. PHIL. Very good.
MR. JOUR. Afterwards you will teach me the almanac, so that I may know
when there is a moon, and when there isn't one.
PROF. PHIL. Be it so. In order to give a right interpretation to your
thought, and to treat this matter philosophically, we must begin,
according to the order of things, with an exact knowledge of the
nature of the letters, and the different way in which each is
pronounced. And on this head I have to tell you that letters are
divided into vowels, so called because they express the voice, and
into consonants, so called because they are sounded with the vowels,
and only mark the different articulations of the voice. There are five
vowels or voices, _a, e, i, o, u_. [Footnote: It is scarcely
necessary to say that this description, such as it is, only applies to
the French vowels as they are pronounced in _pate, the, ici, cote,
du_ respectively.]
MR. JOUR. I understand all that.
PROF. PHIL. The vowel _a_ is formed by opening the mouth very
wide; _a_.
MR. JOUR. _A, a_; yes.
PROF. PHIL. The vowel _e_ is formed by drawing the lower jaw a
little nearer to the upper; _a, e_.
MR. JOUR. _A, e; a, e;_ to be sure. Ah! how beautiful that is!
PROF. PHIL. And the vowel _i_ by bringing the jaws still closer
to one another, and stretching the two corners of the mouth towards
the ears; _a, e, i_.
MR. JOUR. _A, e, i, i, i, i_. Quite true. Long live science!
PROF. PHIL. The vowel _o_ is formed by opening the jaws, and
drawing in the lips at the two corners, the upper and the lower;_
o_.
MR. JOUR. _O, o_. Nothing can be more correct; _a, e, i, o, i,
o_. It is admirable! _I, o, i, o_.
PROF. PHIL. The opening of the mouth exactly makes a little circle,
which resembles an _o_.
MR. JOUR. _O, o, o_. You are right. _O_! Ah! what a fine
thing it is to know something!
PROF. PHIL. The vowel _u_ is formed by bringing the teeth near
each other without entirely joining them, and thrusting out both the
lips whilst also bringing them near together without quite joining
them; _u_.
MR. JOUR. _U, u_. There is nothing more true; _u_.
PROF. PHIL. Your two lips lengthen as if you were pouting; so that, if
you wish to make a grimace at anybody, and to laugh at him, you have
only to _u_ him.
MR. JOUR. _U, u_. It's true. Oh! that I had studied when I was
younger, so as to know all this.
PROF. PHIL. To-morrow we will speak of the other letters, which are
the consonants.
MR. JOUR. Is there anything as curious in them as in these?
PROF. PHIL. Certainly. For instance, the consonant _d_ is
pronounced by striking the tip of the tongue above the upper teeth;
_da_.
MR. JOUR. _Da, da_. [Footnote: Untranslatable. _Dada_ equals
"cock-horse" in nursery language] Yes. Ah! what beautiful things, what
beautiful things!
PROF. PHIL. The _f_, by pressing the upper teeth upon the lower
lip; _fa_.
MR. JOUR. _Fa, fa_. 'Tis the truth. Ah! my father and my mother,
how angry I feel with you!
PROF. PHIL. And the _r_, by carrying the tip of the tongue up to
the roof of the palate, so that, being grazed by the air which comes
out with force, it yields to it, and, returning to the same place,
causes a sort of tremour; _r, ra_.
MR. JOUR. _R-r-ra; r-r-r-r-r-ra_. That's true. Ah! what a clever
man you are, and what time I have lost. _R-r-ra_.
PROF. PHIL. I will thoroughly explain all these curiosities to you.
MR. JOUR. Pray do. And now I want to entrust you with a great secret.
I am in love with a lady of quality, and I should be glad if you would
help me to write something to her in a short letter which I mean to
drop at her feet.
PROF. PHIL. Very well.
MR. JOUR. That will be gallant; will it not?
PROF. PHIL. Undoubtedly. Is it verse you wish to write to her?
MR. JOUR. Oh no; not verse.
PROF. PHIL. You only wish for prose?
MR. JOUR. No. I wish for neither verse nor prose.
PROF. PHIL. It must be one or the other.
MR. JOUR. Why?
PROF. PHIL. Because, Sir, there is nothing by which we can express
ourselves except prose or verse.
MR. JOUR. There is nothing but prose or verse?
PROF. PHIL. No, Sir. Whatever is not prose is verse; and whatever is
not verse is prose.
MR. JOUR. And when we speak, what is that, then?
PROF. PHIL. Prose.
MR. JOUR. What! When I say, "Nicole, bring me my slippers, and give me
my night-cap," is that prose?
PROF. PHIL. Yes, Sir.
MR. JOUR. Upon my word, I have been speaking prose these forty years
without being aware of it; and I am under the greatest obligation to
you for informing me of it. Well, then, I wish to write to her in a
letter, _Fair Marchioness, your beautiful eyes make me die of
love_; but I would have this worded in a genteel manner, and turned
prettily.
PROF. PHIL. Say that the fire of her eyes has reduced your heart to
ashes; that you suffer day and night for her tortures....
MR. JOUR. No, no, no; I don't want any of that. I simply wish for what
I tell you. _Fair Marchioness, your beautiful eyes make me die of
love_.
PROF. PHIL. Still, you might amplify the thing a little?
MR. JOUR. No, I tell you, I will have nothing but those very words in
the letter; but they must be put in a fashionable way, and arranged as
they should be. Pray show me a little, so that I may see the different
ways in which they can be put.
PROF. PHIL. They may be put, first of all, as you have said, _Fair
Marchioness, your beautiful eyes make me die of love_; or else,
_Of love die make me, fair Marchioness, your beautiful eyes_; or,
_Your beautiful eyes of love make me, fair Marchioness, die_; or,
_Die of love your beautiful eyes, fair Marchioness, make me_; or
else, _Me make your beautiful eyes die, fair Marchioness, of
love_.
MR. JOUR. But of all these ways, which is the best?
PROF. PHIL. The one you said: _Fair Marchioness, your beautiful eyes
make me die of love_.
MR. JOUR. Yet I have never studied, and I did all that right off at
the first shot. I thank you with all my heart, and I beg of you to
come to-morrow morning early.
PROF. PHIL. I shall not fail.
SCENE VII.--MR. JOURDAIN, A SERVANT.
MR. JOUR. What? Has my suit of clothes not come yet?
SER. No, Sir.
MR. JOUR. That confounded tailor makes me wait a long time on a day
like this, when I have so much business to attend to. I am furious.
May the deuce fly away with the tailor! May the plague choke the
tailor! May the ague shake that brute of a tailor! If I had him here
now, that rascally tailor, that wretch of a tailor, I....
SCENE VIII.--MR. JOURDAIN, THE MASTER TAILOR, AN ASSISTANT TAILOR
(_bringing a suit of clothes for_ MR. JOURDAIN), A SERVANT.
MR. JOUR. Ha! here you are. I was just on the point of getting angry
with you.
TAIL. I could not come sooner, although I set twenty people to work at
your coat.
MR. JOUR. You have sent me such a small pair of silk stockings that I
had no end of trouble to put them on, and two of the stitches are
broken already.
TAIL. They are pretty sure to become only too large.
MR. JOUR. No doubt, if I keep on breaking the stitches. You also sent
me a pair of shoes that hurt me horribly.
TAIL. Not at all, Sir.
MR. JOUR. How! not at all?
TAIL. No; they do not hurt you at all.
MR. JOUR. I tell you they do hurt me.
TAIL. You fancy so.
MR. JOUR. I fancy so because I feel it to be so. Did any one ever hear
such an argument!
TAIL. See, we have the most beautiful and the best matched suit in the
whole court. It is a work of art to have discovered a sober suit of
clothes not black; and I bet that the most skilful tailors would not
do as much after half a dozen trials.
MR. JOUR. Why, what does this mean? You have put all the flowers
upside down.
TAIL. You did not tell me you wished to have them the other way up.
MR. JOUR. Was it necessary to say that?
TAIL. Yes, certainly; for all the people of quality wear them in this
way.
MR. JOUR. All people of quality wear the flowers bottom upwards?
TAIL. Yes, Sir.
MR. JOUR. Oh, then it's all right.
TAIL. If you wish it, I will put them the other way up.
MR. JOUR. No, no.
TAIL. You have only to say so.
MR. JOUR. No, no. I tell you that you have done right. Do you think my
clothes fit me well?
TAIL. No doubt about it. I defy any painter with his pencil to draw
you anything to fit more exactly. I have in my house a workman who to
get up a rhinegrave is the greatest genius of our time, and another
who in putting together a doublet is the hero of our age.
MR. JOUR. Are the wig and feathers as they should be?
TAIL. Everything is right.
MR. JOUR. (_looking carefully at the tailor's coat_). Oh! oh! Mr.
Tailor, you have there some of the stuff of the last coat you made for
me! I know it well.
TAIL. I thought the stuff so beautiful that I could not help cutting a
coat from it for myself.
MR. JOUR. Yes; but you should not have cut it from mine.
TAIL. Will you put on your coat?
MR. JOUR. Yes; give it me.
TAIL. Wait a moment. Things are not done in that manner. I have
brought my people with me to dress you to music; such coats as these
are only put on with ceremony. Hullo there! Come in.
SCENE IX.--MR. JOURDAIN, MASTER TAILOR, ASSISTANT TAILORS
(_dancing_), A SERVANT.
TAIL. Put this gentleman's suit on as you put on those of people of
quality.
(_The four tailors, dancing, come near_ MR. JOURDAIN; _two of
them pull off the breeches he has had on for his exercises; two others
take off his waistcoat; then, still dancing, they dress him in his new
suit_. MR. JOURDAIN _walks round in the midst of them, and shows
them his clothes for them to see whether they fit him_.)
TAILS. My noble gentleman, give something, if you please, to the
tailors to drink your health with.
MR. JOUR. How do you call me?
TAILS. My noble gentleman.
MR. JOUR. See what it is to be dressed like a person of quality! Go
about all your life dressed like a citizen, and nobody will ever call
you a "noble gentleman." (_Giving some money_.) This is for "My
noble gentleman."
TAILS. We are greatly obliged to you, my lord.
MR. JOUR. Oh! oh! Wait a minute, my friends. "My lord" deserves
something; it is no small thing to be "My lord." Here is what his
lordship gives you.
TAILS. My lord, we shall go and drink your grace's health.
MR. JOUR. "Your grace!" Oh! oh! oh! Stay, don't go yet. "Your grace"
to me! (_Aside_) Upon my word, if he goes as far as highness, he
will have the whole purse. (_Aloud_) Take this for "Your grace."
TAILS. My lord, we most humbly thank you for your liberality.
MR. JOUR. He did well to stop. I should have given him all.
_Second entry of the_ BALLET.
_The_ FOUR ASSISTANTS _rejoice, dancing, at the generosity
of_ MR. JOURDAIN.
ACT III.
SCENE I.--MR. JOURDAIN, TWO LACKEYS.
MR. JOUR. Follow me, that I may go and show my clothes about the town;
and be very careful, both of you, to walk close to my heels, so that
people may see that you belong to me.
LACK. Yes, Sir.
MR. JOUR. Just call Nicole. I have some orders to give her. You need
not move; here she comes.
SCENE II.--MR. JOURDAIN, NICOLE, TWO LACKEYS.
MR. JOUR. Nicole!
NIC. What is it, Sir?
MR. JOUR. Listen.
NIC. (_laughing_). Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. What are you laughing at?
NIC. Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. What does the hussy mean?
NIC. Hi, hi, hi. What a figure you cut! Hi, hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. Eh? What?
NIC. Ah! ah! my goodness! Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. What an impertinent jade! Are you laughing at me?
NIC. Oh no, Sir. I should be very sorry to do so. Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. I'll slap your face if you laugh again.
NIC. I can't help it, Sir. Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. Will you leave off?
NIC. Sir; I beg your pardon, Sir; but you are so very comical that I
can't help laughing. Hi, hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. Did you ever see such impudence?
NIC. You are so odd like that. Hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. I'll....
NIC. I beg of you to excuse me. Hi, hi, hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. Look here, if you laugh again ever so little, I swear I will
give you a box on the ears such as you never had before in all your
life.
NIC. Well, Sir, I have done. I won't laugh any more.
MR. JOUR. Mind you don't. You must for this afternoon clean....
NIC. Hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. You must clean thoroughly....
NIC. Hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. You must, I say, clean the drawing-room, and....
NIC. Hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. Again?
NIC. (_tumbling down with laughing_). There, Sir, beat me rather,
but let me laugh to my heart's content. I am sure it will be better
for me. Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. I am boiling with rage.
NIC. For pity's sake, Sir, let me laugh. Hi, hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. If I begin....
NIC. Si-r-r, I shall bur-r-st if I d-don't laugh. Hi, hi, hi.
MR. JOUR. But did you ever see such a hussy? She comes and laughs at
me to my face, instead of attending to my orders.
NIC. What is it you wish me to do, Sir.
MR. JOUR. I want you to get this house ready for the company which is
to come here by and by.
NIC. (_getting up_). Ah, well! All my wish to laugh is gone now;
your company brings such disorder here that what you say is quite
sufficient to put me out of temper.
MR. JOUR. I suppose that, to please you, I ought to shut my door
against everybody?
NIC. Anyhow, you would do just as well to shut it against certain
people, Sir.
SCENE III.--MRS. JOURDAIN, MR. JOURDAIN, NICOLE, TWO SERVANTS.
MRS. JOUR. Ah me! Here is some new vexation! Why, husband, what do you
possibly mean by this strange get-up? Have you lost your senses that
you go and deck yourself out like this, and do you wish to be the
laughing-stock of everybody wherever you go?
MR. JOUR. Let me tell you, my good wife, that no one but a fool will
laugh at me.
MRS. JOUR. No one has waited until to-day for that; and it is now some
time since your ways of going on have been the amusement of everybody.
MR. JOUR. And who may everybody be, please?
MRS. JOUR. Everybody is a body who is in the right, and who has more
sense than you. For my part, I am quite shocked at the life you lead.
I don't know our home again. One would think, by what goes on, that it
was one everlasting carnival here; and as soon as day breaks, for fear
we should have any rest in it, we have a regular din of fiddles and
singers, that are a positive nuisance to all the neighbourhood.
NIC. What mistress says is quite right. There is no longer any chance
of having the house clean with all that heap of people you bring in.
Their feet seem to have gone purposely to pick up the mud in the four
quarters of the town in order to bring it in here afterwards; and poor
Francoise is almost off her legs with the constant scrubbing of the
floors, which your masters come and dirty every day as regular as
clockwork.
MR. JOUR. I say there, our servant Nicole; you have a pretty sharp
tongue of your own for a country wench.
MRS. JOUR. Nicole is right, and she has more sense by far than you
have. I should like to know, for instance, what you mean to do with a
dancing master at your age?
NIC. And with that big fencing master, who comes here stamping enough
to shake the whole house down and to tear up the floor tiles of our
rooms.
MR. JOUR. Gently, my servant and my wife.
MRS. JOUR. Do you mean to learn dancing for the time when you can't
stand on your legs any longer?
NIC. Do you intend to kill anybody?
MR. JOUR. Hold your tongues, I say. You are only ignorant women, both
of you, and understand nothing concerning the prerogative of all this.
MRS. JOUR. You would do much better to think of seeing your daughter
married, for she is now of an age to be provided for.
MR. JOUR. I shall think of seeing my daughter married when a suitable
match presents itself; but, in the meantime, I wish to think of
acquiring fine learning.
NIC. I have heard say also, mistress, that, to go the whole hog, he
has now taken a professor of philosophy.
MR. JOUR. To be sure I have. I wish to be clever, and reason
concerning things with people of quality.
MRS. JOUR. Had you not better go to school one of these days, and get
the birch, at your age?
MR. JOUR. Why not? Would to heaven I were flogged this very instant,
before all the world, so that I might know all they learn at school.
NIC. Yes, to be sure; that would much improve the shape of your leg.
MR. JOUR. Of course.
MRS. JOUR. And all this is very necessary for the management of your
house.
MR. JOUR. Certainly. You both speak like asses; and I am ashamed of
your ignorance. (_To_ MRS. JOURDAIN) Let me see, for instance, if
you know what you are speaking this very moment.
MRS. JOUR. Yes, I know that what I speak is rightly spoken; and that
you should think of leading a different life.
MR. JOUR. I do not mean that. I ask you what the words are which you
are now speaking.
MRS. JOUR. They are sensible words, I tell you, and that is more than
your conduct is.
MR. JOUR. I am not speaking of that. I ask you what it is that I am
now saying to you. That which I am now speaking to you, what is it?
MRS. JOUR. Rubbish.
MR. JOUR. No! no! I don't mean that. What we both speak; the language
we are speaking this very moment.
MRS. JOUR. Well?
MR. JOUR. How is it called?
MRS. JOUR. It is called whatever you like to call it.
MR. JOUR. It is prose, you ignorant woman.
MRS. JOUR. Prose?
MR. JOUR. Whatever is prose is not verse, and whatever is not verse is
prose. There! you see what it is to study. (_To_ NICOLE) And you,
do you even know what you must do to say _u_?
NIC. Eh? What?
MR. JOUR. Yes; what do you do when you say _u_?
NIC. What I do?
MR. JOUR. Say _u_ a little to try.
NIC. Well, _u_.
MR. JOUR. What is it you do?
NIC. I say _u_.
MR. JOUR. Yes; but when you say _u_, what is it you do?
NIC. I do what you ask me to do.
MR. JOUR. Oh! What a strange thing it is to have to do with dunces!
You pout your lips outwards, and bring your upper jaw near your lower
jaw like this, _u_; I make a face; _u_. Do you see?
NIC. Yes, that's beautiful.
MRS. JOUR. It's admirable!
MR. JOUR. What would you say then if you had seen _o_, and _da,
da_, and _fa, fa_?
MRS. JOUR. What is all this absurd stuff?
NIC. And what are we the better for all this?
MR. JOUR. I have no patience with such ignorant women.
MRS. JOUR. Believe me, pack off all those people with their ridiculous
fooleries.
NIC. And particularly that great scraggy fencing master, who fills the
whole place with dust.
MR. JOUR. Goodness me! The fencing master seems to set your teeth on
edge. Come here, and I will show you at once your senseless
impertinence. (_He asks for two foils, and gives one to_ NICOLE.)
Here, reason demonstrative the line of the body. When you thrust in
quart, you have only to do so; and, when you thrust in tierce, only to
do so! That is the way never to be killed; and is it not a fine thing
to be quite safe when one fights against anybody? There, thrust at me
a little to try.
NIC. Well, what? (NICOLE _gives him several thrusts_)
MR. JOUR. Gently! Hold! Oh! Softly. Deuce take the wench!
NIC: You tell me to thrust at you.
MR. JOUR. Yes; but you thrust in tierce before thrusting at me in
quart, and you haven't the patience to wait till I parry.
MRS: JOUR. You are crazy, husband, with all your fads; and this has
come upon you since you have taken it into your head to frequent the
gentlefolk.
MR. JOUR. By frequenting the gentlefolk I show my judgment. It is
surely better than keeping company with your citizens.
MRS. JOUR. Yes: there is much good to be got by frequenting your
nobility, and you have done a noble stroke of business with that fine
count with whom you are so wrapped up.
MR. JOUR. Peace. Be careful what you say. Let me tell you, wife, that
you do not know of whom you are speaking when you speak of him! He is
a man of more importance than you can imagine, a nobleman who is held
in great honour at court, and who speaks to the king just as I speak
to you. Is it not a thing which does me great honour that such a
person should be seen so often in my house, should call me his dear
friend, and should treat me as if I were his equal? He has more
kindness for me than you could ever guess, and he treats me before the
world with such affection that I am perfectly ashamed.
MRS. JOUR. Yes; he is kind to you, and flatters you, but he borrows
your money of you.
MR. JOUR. Well? Is it not a great honour to lend money to a man of his
position? And could I do less for a lord who calls me his dear friend?
MRS. JOUR. And this lord, what does he do for you?
MR. JOUR. Things that would astound you if you only knew them.
MRS. JOUR. But what?
MR. JOUR. There! I can't explain myself. It is quite sufficient that,
if I have lent him money, he will give it back to me, and that before
long.
MRS. JOUR. Yes, trust him for that.
MR. JOUR. Certainly I will. Has he not said so?
MRS. JOUR. Yes, yes; and he won't fail not to do it.
MR. JOUR. He has given me his word as a gentleman.
MRS. JOUR. Mere stuff.
MR. JOUR. Dear me! You are very obstinate, wife! I tell you that he
will keep his word; I am quite sure of it.
MRS. JOUR. And I am quite sure that he won't; and that all the
caresses he loads you with are only meant to deceive you.
MR. JOUR. Be silent; here he comes.
MRS. JOUR. That's to finish up. He comes, no doubt, to borrow from you
again; the very sight of him takes my appetite away.
MR: JOUR. Hold your tongue, I tell you.
SCENE IV.--DORANTE, MR. JOURDAIN, MRS. JOURDAIN, NICOLE.
DOR. Mr. Jourdain, my dear friend, how do you do?
MR. JOUR. Very well, Sir; at your service.
DOR. And Mrs. Jourdain, how does she do?
MRS. JOUR. Mrs. Jourdain does as well as may be.
DOR. I declare, Mr. Jourdain, that you have the most genteel dress in
the world.
MR. JOUR. You see.
DOR. You look exceedingly well in this dress, and we have no young men
at court better made than you.
MR. JOUR. He! he!
MRS. JOUR. (_aside_). He scratches him where it itches.
DOR. Turn round. This is quite gallant.
MRS. JOUR. (_aside_). Yes, as fine a fool behind as before.
DOR. Indeed, Mr. Jourdain, I was very impatient to see you. You are
the man I esteem most in the world, and I was talking of you again
this very morning at the king's levee.
MR. JOUR. You do me too much honour, Sir. (_To_ MRS. JOURDAIN) At
the king's levee.
DOR. Come, put on your hat.
MR. JOUR. Sir, I know the respect I owe you;
DOR. Pray, put on your hat. No ceremony between us, I beg.
MR. JOUR. Sir!
DOR. Nay! nay! Put on your hat, I tell you, Mr. Jourdain; you are my
friend.
MR. JOUR. Sir, I am your humble servant.
DOR. I will not put mine on unless you do.
MR. JOUR. (_putting on his hat_). I had rather be unmannerly than
troublesome.
DOR. I am your debtor, as you know.
MRS. JOUR. (_aside_). Yes, we know it but too well.
DOR. On several occasions you have generously lent me some money, and
you have obliged me, I must acknowledge, with the best grace in the
world.
MR. JOUR. Sir, I beg of you.
DOR. But I know how to pay back what is lent to me, and how to
acknowledge services rendered.
MR. JOUR. I have no doubt about it, Sir.
DOR. I want to acquit myself towards you, and I have come to settle my
accounts.
MR. JOUR. (_aside to_ MRS. JOURDAIN). Well? Do you see how wrong
you were, wife?
DOR. I like to get out of debt as soon as I can.
MR. JOUR. (_aside to_ MRS. JOURDAIN). Did I not tell you so?
DOR. Let us see how much I owe you.
MR. JOUR. (_aside to_ MRS. JOURDAIN). There you are, with your
absurd suspicions.
DOR. Do you quite remember how much you have lent me?
MR. JOUR. I believe so. I have made a little memorandum of it. Here it
is. At one time I gave you two hundred louis.
DOR. Quite true.
MR. JOUR. At another time, one hundred and twenty.
DOR. Yes.
MR. JOUR. At another time, one hundred and forty.
DOR. You are quite right.
MR. JOUR. These three payments make four hundred and sixty louis,
which comes to five thousand and sixty livres.
DOR. This account is quite correct; five thousand and sixty livres.
MR. JOUR. One thousand eight hundred and thirty-two livres to your
plume seller.
DOR. Just so.
MR. JOUR. Two thousand seven hundred and eighty livres to your tailor.