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….