loo in all that, too much riot
and rumpus.
PROF. PHIL. Very good.
M. JOUR. And now I want to intrust you with a great secret. I am in
love with a lady of quality, and I should be glad if you would help
me to write something to her in a short letter which I mean to drop
at her feet.
PROF. PHIL. Very well.
M. JOUR. That will be gallant, will it not?
PROF. PHIL. Undoubtedly. Is it verse you wish to write to her?
M. JOUR. Oh, no! not verse.
PROF. PHIL. You only wish prose?
M. JOUR. No. I wish for neither verse nor prose.
PROF. PHIL. It must be one or the other.
M. JOUR.Why?
PROF. PHIL. Because, sir, there is nothing by which we can express
ourselves except prose or verse.
M. JOUR. There is nothing but prose or verse?
PROF. PHIL. No, sir. Whatever is not prose, is verse; and whatever
is not verse, is prose.
M. JOUR.And when we speak, what is that, then?
PROF. PHIL. Prose.
M. JOUR. What! when I say, "Nicole, bring me my slippers, and give
me my nightcap," is that prose?
PROF. PHIL. Yes, sir.
M. JOUR. Upon my word, I have been speaking prose these forty years
without being aware of it; and I am under the greatest obligation
to you for informing me of it. Well, then, I wish to write to her
in a letter, "Fair Marchioness, your beautiful eyes make me die of
love;" but I would have this worded in a genteel manner, and turned
prettily.
PROF. PHIL. Say that the fire of her eyes has reduced your heart to
ashes; that you suffer day and night for her, tortures--
M. JOUR. No, no, no, I don't any of that. I simply wish for what I
tell you,--"Fair Marchioness, your beautiful eyes make me die of
love."
PROF. PHIL. Still, you might amplify the thing a little.
M. JOUR. No, I tell you, I will have nothing but these very words
in the letter; but they must be put in a fashionable way, and
arranged as they should be. Pray show me a little, so that I may
see the different ways in which they can be put.
PROF. PHIL. They may be put first of all, as you have said, "Fair
Marchioness, your beautiful eyes make me die of love;" or else, "Of
love die make me, fair Marchioness, your beautiful eyes;" or, "Your
beautiful eyes of love make me, fair Marchioness, die;" or, "Die of
love
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