And you, my little musician, I'll make you sing in a
pretty way.
DANCING MASTER: Monsieur Clanger-of-iron, I'll teach you your
trade.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: (To the Dancing Master) Are you crazy to quarrel
with him, who knows tierce and quarte, and who can kill a man by
demonstration?
DANCING MASTER: I disdain his demonstrations, and his tierce, and
his quarte.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: Careful, I tell you.
FENCING MASTER: What? You little impertinent!
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: Oh! My Fencing Master.
DANCING MASTER: What? You big workhorse!
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: Oh! My Dancing Master.
FENCING MASTER: If I throw myself on you ...
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: Careful.
DANCING MASTER: If I get my hands on you ...
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: Be nice!
FENCING MASTER: I'll go over you with a curry-comb, in such a
way...
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: Mercy!
DANCING MASTER: I'll give you a beating such as ...
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: I beg of you!
MUSIC MASTER: Let us teach him a little how to talk!
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: Oh Lord! Stop.
SCENE III (Philosophy Master, Music Master, Dancing Master, Fencing
Master, Monsieur Jourdain, Lackeys)
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: Aha! Monsieur Philosopher, you come just in time
with your philosophy. Come, make a little peace among these
people.
PHILOSOPHY MASTER: What's happening? What's the matter, gentlemen.
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