(_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.
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