MR. JOUR. Peace. Be careful what you say. Let me tell you, wife, that you do not know of whom you are speaking when you speak of him! He is a man of more importance than you can imagine, a nobleman who is held in great honour at court, and who speaks to the king just as I speak to you. Is it not a thing which does me great honour that such a person should be seen so often in my house, should call me his dear friend, and should treat me as if I were his equal? He has more kindness for me than you could ever guess, and he treats me before the world with such affection that I am perfectly ashamed. MRS. JOUR. Yes; he is kind to you, and flatters you, but he borrows your money of you. MR. JOUR. Well? Is it not a great honour to lend money to a man of his position? And could I do less for a lord who calls me his dear friend? MRS. JOUR. And this lord, what does he do for you? MR. JOUR. Things that would astound you if you only knew them. MRS. JOUR. But what? MR. JOUR. There! I can't explain myself. It is quite sufficient that, if I have lent him money, he will give it back to me, and that before long. MRS. JOUR. Yes, trust him for that. MR. JOUR. Certainly I will. Has he not said so? MRS. JOUR. Yes, yes; and he won't fail not to do it. MR. JOUR. He has given me his word as a gentleman. MRS. JOUR. Mere stuff. MR. JOUR. Dear me! You are very obstinate, wife! I tell you that he will keep his word; I am quite sure of it. MRS. JOUR. And I am quite sure that he won't; and that all the caresses he loads you with are only meant to deceive you. MR. JOUR. Be silent; here he comes. MRS. JOUR. That's to finish up. He comes, no doubt, to borrow from you again; the very sight of him takes my appetite away. MR. JOUR. Hold your tongue, I tell you. SCENE IV.--DORANTE, MR. JOURDAIN, MRS. JOURDAIN, NICOLE. DOR. Mr. Jourdain, my dear friend, how do you do? MR. JOUR. Very well, Sir; at your service. DOR. And Mrs. Jourdain, how does she do? MRS. JOUR. Mrs. Jourdain does as well as may be. DOR. I declare, Mr. Jourdain, that you have the most genteel dress in the world. MR. JOUR. You see. DOR. You look exceedingly well in this dress, and we have no young men at court better made than you. MR. JOUR. He! he! MRS. JOUR. (_aside_). He scratches him where it itches. DOR. Turn round. This is quite gallant. MRS. JOUR. (_aside_). Yes, as fine a fool behind as before. DOR. Indeed, Mr. Jourdain, I was very impatient to see you. You are the man I esteem most in the world, and I was talking of you again this very morning at the king's levee. MR. JOUR. You do me too much honour, Sir. (_To_ MRS. JOURDAIN) At the king's levee. DOR. Come, put on your hat. MR. JOUR. Sir, I know the respect I owe you; DOR. Pray, put on your hat. No ceremony between us, I beg. MR. JOUR. Sir! DOR. Nay! nay! Put on your hat, I tell you, Mr. Jourdain; you are my friend. MR. JOUR. Sir, I am your humble servant. DOR. I will not put mine on unless you do.