SCENE VI.—LUCILE, CLÉONTE, MR. JOURDAIN, DORIMÈNE, DORANTE, COVIELLE.
MR. JOUR. Come, my daughter; come near, and give your hand to this gentleman, who does you the honour of asking you in marriage.
LUC. Why, father, how strangely dressed you are! Are you acting a comedy?
MR. JOUR. No, no; it is no comedy, but a very serious affair, and the most honourable for you that could ever be wished for. (Showing CLÉONTE.) Here is the husband I bestow upon you.
LUC. Bestow upon me, father?
MR. JOUR. Yes, upon you. There, give him your hand, and thank heaven for your good fortune.
LUC. I have no wish to marry.
MR. JOUR. It is all very well, but I wish it; I who am your father.
LUC. I will do nothing of the kind.
MR. JOUR. Ah! what a noise! Come, I say, give him your hand.
LUC. No, father; I told you already that no power upon earth will force me to marry any other but Cléonte; and I would have recourse to any extremity rather than…. (Recognising CLÉONTE.) But it is true that you are my father, and that I owe you absolute obedience; dispose of me, then, according to your will.
MR. JOUR. Truly, I am delighted to see you return so quickly to a sense of your duty; and it is a pleasure to me to have such an obedient daughter.