III.
– MR. JOURDAIN, FENCING MASTER, MUSIC MASTER, DANCING MASTER, A SERVANT holding two foils.
FEN. MAS. (taking the two foils from the hands of the SERVANT, and giving one to MR. JOURDAIN). Now, Sir, the salute. The body upright, resting slightly on the left thigh. The legs not so far apart; the feet in a line. The wrist in a line with the thigh. The point of the foil opposite the shoulder. The arm not quite so much extended. The left hand as high as the eye. The left shoulder more squared. The head erect; the look firm. Advance; the body steady. Engage my blade in quart, and retain the engagement. One, two. As you were. Once more, with the foot firm. One, two; a step to the rear. When you make an attack, Sir, the sword should move first, and the body be well held back. One, two. Engage my blade in tierce, and retain the engagement. Advance; the body steady. Advance; one, two. Recover. Once more. One, two. A step to the rear. On guard, Sir; on guard. (The FENCING MASTER delivers two or three attacks, calling out, "On guard!")
MR. JOUR. Ah!
MUS. MAS. You are doing wonders.
FEN. MAS. As I have already told you, the whole art of fencing consists of one of two things – in giving and not receiving; and as I showed you the other day by demonstrative reason, it is impossible for you to receive if you know how to turn aside your adversary's weapon from the line of your body; and this again depends only on a slight movement of the wrist to the inside or the out. [Footnote: Kindly corrected by Mr. Maclaren, The Gymnasium, Oxford.]
MR. JOUR. So that a man, without having any courage, is sure of killing his man, and of not being killed himself.
FEN. MAS. Exactly. Did you not see plainly the demonstration of it?
MR. JOUR. Yes.
FEN. MAS. And this shows you of what importance we must be in a state; and how much the science of arms is superior to all the other useless sciences, such as dancing, music…
DAN. MAS. Gently, Mr. Fencing Master; speak of dancing with respect, if you please.
MUS. MAS. Pray learn to treat more properly the excellence of music.
FEN. MAS. You certainly are odd sort of people to try and compare your sciences to mine.
MUS. MAS. Just see the man of importance!
DAN. MAS. A fine animal, to be sure, with his plastron.
FEN. MAS. Take care, my little dancing master, or I shall make you dance in fine style. And you, my little musician, I'll teach you to sing out.
DAN. MAS. And you, my beater of iron, I'll teach you your trade.
MR. JOUR. (to the DANCING MASTER). Are you mad to go and quarrel with a man, who understands tierce and quart, and knows how to kill another by demonstrative reason?
DAN. MAS. I don't care a straw for his demonstrative reason, and his tierce and his quart.
MR. JOUR. (to the DANCING MASTER). Gently, I tell you.
FEN. MAS. (to the DANCING MASTER). How! You little impudent fellow!
MR. JOUR. Ah! my fencing master!
DAN. MAS. (to the FENCING MASTER). How! you great cart-horse!
MR. JOUR. Stop! my dancing master!
FEN. MAS. If I once begin with you…
MR. JOUR. (to the FENCING MASTER). Gently.
DAN. MAR. If I lay my hand upon you…
MR. JOUR. Softly.
FEN. MAS. I will beat you after such a fashion…
MR. JOUR. (to the FENCING MASTER). For goodness sake!
DAN. MAS. I'll thrash you in such a style…
MR. JOUR. (to the DANCING MASTER). I beg of you…
MUS. MAS. Let us teach him a little how to behave himself.
MR. JOUR. (to the MUSIC MASTER). Gracious heavens! Do stop.
SCENE IV.
– PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY, MR. JOURDAIN, MUSIC MASTER, DANCING MASTER, FENCING MASTER, A SERVANT.
MR. JOUR. Oh! you are in the very nick of time with your philosophy.
Pray come here and restore peace among these people.
PROF. PHIL. What is going on? What is the matter, gentlemen?
MR. JOUR. They have got themselves into such a rage about the importance that ought to be attached to their different professions that they have almost come to blows over it.
PROF. PHIL. For shame, gentlemen; how can you thus forget yourselves? Have you not read the learned treatise which Seneca composed on anger? Is there anything more base and more shameful than the passion which changes a man into a savage beast, and ought not reason to govern all our actions?
DAN. MAS. How, Sir! He comes and insults us both in our professions; he despises dancing, which I teach, and music, which is his occupation.
PROF. PHIL. A wise man is above all the insults that can be offered him; and the best and noblest answer one can make to all kinds of provocation is moderation and patience.
FEN. MAS. They have both the impertinence to compare their professions to mine!
PROF. PHIL. Why should this offend you? It is not for vain glory and rank that men should strive among themselves. What distinguishes one man from another is wisdom and virtue.
DAN. MAS. I maintain that dancing is a science which we cannot honour too much. [Footnote: In fact, dancing was much more honoured in Molière's time than it is now.]
MUS. MAS. And I that music is a science which all ages have revered.
FEN. MAS. And I, I maintain against them both that the science of attack and defence is the best and most necessary of all sciences.
PROF. PHIL. And for what, then, do you count philosophy? I think you are all three very bold fellows to dare to speak before me with this arrogance, and impudently to give the name of science to things which are not even to be honoured with the name of art, but which can only be classed with the trades of prize-fighter, street-singer, and mountebank.
FEN. MAS. Get out, you dog of a philosopher.
MUS. MAS. Get along with you, you beggarly pedant.
DAN. MAS. Begone, you empty-headed college scout.
PROF. PHIL. How, scoundrels that you are!
(The PHILOSOPHER rushes upon them, and they all three belabour him.)
MR. JOUR. Mr. Philosopher.
PROF. PHIL. Infamous villains!
MR. JOUR. Mr. Philosopher!
FEN. MAS. Plague take the animal!
MR. JOUR. Gentlemen!
PROF.
