CATHOS: Good Heavens! this is carried to the utmost pitch of gallantry.
MASCARILLE: Everything I do shows it is done by a gentleman; there is nothing of the pedant about my effusions.
MADELON: They are more than two thousand miles removed from that.
MASCARILLE: Did you observe the beginning, oh! oh? there is something original in that oh! oh! like a man who all of a sudden thinks about something, oh! oh! Taken by surprise as it were, oh! oh!
MADELON: Yes, I think that oh! oh! admirable.
MASCARILLE: It seems a mere nothing.
CATHOS: Good Heavens! How can you say so? It is one of these things that are perfectly invaluable.
MADELON: No doubt on it; I would rather have written that oh! oh! than an epic poem.
MASCARILLE: Egad, you have good taste.
MADELON: Tolerably; none of the worst, I believe.
MASCARILLE: But do you not also admire quite without heed was I? quite without heed was I, that is, I did not pay attention to anything; a natural way of speaking, quite without heed was I, of no harm thinking, that is, as I was going along, innocently, without malice, like a poor sheep, you I chanced to spy, that is to say, I amused myself with looking at you, with observing you, with contemplating you. Slyly your eyes . . . What do you think of that word slyly--is it not well chosen?
CATHOS: Extremely so.
MASCARILLE: Slyly, stealthily; just like a cat watching a mouse--slyly.
MADELON: Nothing can be better.
MASCARILLE: My heart surprise, that is, carries it away from me, robs me of it. Stop thief! stop thief! stop thief! Would you not think a man were shouting and running after a thief to catch him? Stop thief! stop thief! stop thief!
MADELON: I must admit the turn is witty and sprightly.
MASCARILLE: I will sing you the tune I made of it.
CATHOS: Have you learned music?
MASCARILLE: I? Not at all.
CATHOS: How can you make a tune then?
MASCARILLE: People of rank know everything without ever having learned anything.
MADELON: His lordship is quite in the right, my dear.
MASCARILLE: Listen if you like the tune: hem, hem, la, la. The inclemency of the season has greatly injured the delicacy of my voice; but no matter, it is in a free and easy way. [He sings.] Oh! Oh! quite without heed was I, etc...
CATHOS: What a passion there breathes in this music. It is enough to make one die away with delight!
MADELON: There is something plaintive in it.
MASCARILLE: Do you not think that the air perfectly well expresses the sentiment, stop thief, stop thief? And then as if some one cried out very loud, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop thief! Then all at once like a person out of breath, Stop thief!
MADELON: This is to understand the perfection of things, the grand perfection, the perfection of perfections. I declare it is altogether a wonderful performance. I am quite enchanted with the air and the words.
CATHOS: I never yet met anything so excellent.
MASCARILLE: All that I do comes naturally to me; it is without study.
MADELON: Nature has treated you like a very fond mother; you are her darling child.
MASCARILLE: How do you pass away the time, ladies?
CATHOS: With nothing at all.
MADELON: Until now we have lived in a terrible dearth of amusements.
MASCARILLE: I am at your service to attend you to the play, one of those days, if you will permit me. Indeed, a new comedy is to be acted which I should be very glad we might see together.
MADELON: There is no refusing you anything.
MASCARILLE: But I beg of you to applaud it well, when we shall be there; for I have promised to give a helping hand to the piece. The author called upon me this very morning to beg me so to do. It is the custom for authors to come and read their new plays to people of rank, that they may induce us to improve them and give them a reputation. I leave you to imagine if, when we say anything, the pit dares contradict us. As for me, I am very punctual in these things, and when I have made a promise to a poet, I always call out "Bravo" before the candles are lighted.
MADELON: Do not say another word; Paris is an admirable place. A hundred things happen every day which people in the country, however clever they may be, have no idea of.
CATHOS: Since you have told us, we shall consider it our duty to cry up lustily every word that is said.
MASCARILLE: I do not know whether I am deceived, but you look as if you had written some play yourself.
MADELON: Eh! there may be something in what you say.
MASCARILLE: Ah! Upon my word, we must see it. Between ourselves, I have written one which I intend to have brought out.
CATHOS: Ay! To what company do you mean to give it?
MASCARILLE: That is a very nice question, indeed. To the actors of the hôtel de Bourgogne; they alone can bring things into good repute; the rest are ignorant creatures who recite their parts just as people speak in every-day life; they do not understand to mouth the verses, or to pause at a beautiful passage; how can it be known where the fine lines are, if an actor does not stop at them, and thereby tell you to applaud heartily? 
CATHOS: Indeed! that is one way of making an audience feel the beauties of any work; things are only prized when they are well set off.
MASCARILLE: What do you think of my top-knot, sword-knot, and rosettes? Do you find they harmonize with my coat?
MASCARILLE: Do you think the ribbon well chosen?
MADELON: Furiously well. It is real Perdrigeon .
MASCARILLE: What do you say of my rolls? 
MADELON: They look very fashionable.
MASCARILLE: I may at least boast that they are a quarter of a yard wider than any that have been made.
MADELON: I must own I never saw the elegance of dress carried farther.
MASCARILLE: Please to fasten the reflection of your smelling faculty upon these gloves.
MADELON: They smell awfully fine.
CATHOS: I never inhaled a more delicious perfume.
MASCARILLE: And this? [He gives them his powdered wig to smell.]
MADELON: It has the true quality odour; it titillates the nerves of the upper region most deliciously.
MASCARILLE: You say nothing of my feathers. How do you like them?
CATHOS: They are frightfully beautiful.
MASCARILLE: Do you know that every single one of them cost me a Louis-d'or? But it is my hobby to have generally everything of the very best.
MADELON: I assure you that you and I sympathize. I am furiously particular in everything I wear; I cannot endure even stockings, unless they are bought at a fashionable shop.
MASCARILLE: [Crying out suddenly.] O! O! O! gently. Damme, ladies, you use me very ill; I have reason to complain of your behavior; it is not fair.
CATHOS: What is the matter with you?
MASCARILLE: What! two at once against my heart! to attack me thus right and left! Ha! This is contrary to the law of nations, the combat is too unequal, and I must cry out, "Murder!"
CATHOS: Well, he does say things in a peculiar way.
MADELON: He is a consummate wit.
CATHOS: You are more afraid than hurt, and you heart cries out before it is even wounded.
MASCARILLE: The devil it does! It is wounded all over from head to foot.