must first disengage, and your body must be
well turned. One, two. Come, beat tierce and thrust. Advance. Stop
there. One, two. Recover. Repeat. Leap back. On guard, Sir, on
guard. (The fencing master touches him two or three times with the
foil while saying, "On guard." )

MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: How was that? (Breathlessly)

MUSIC MASTER: You did marvelously!

FENCING MASTER: As I have told you, the entire secret of fencing
lies in two things: to give and not to receive; and as I
demonstrated to you the other day, it is impossible for you to
receive, if you know how to turn your opponent's sword from the
line of your body. This depends solely on a slight movement of the
wrist, either inward or outward.

MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: In this way then, a man, without courage, is
sure to kill his man and not be killed himself?

FENCING MASTER: Without doubt. Didn't you see the demonstration?

MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: Yes.

FENCING MASTER: And thus you have seen how men like me should be
considered by the State, and how the science of fencing is more
important than all the other useless sciences, such as dancing,
music,...

DANCING MASTER: Careful there, Monsieur swordsman! Speak of the
dance only with respect.

MUSIC MASTER: I beg you to speak better of the excellence of
music.

FENCING MASTER: You are amusing fellows, to want to compare your
sciences with mine!

MUSIC MASTER: See the self-importance of the man!

FENCING MASTER: My little Dancing Master, I'll make you dance as
you ought. 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: L