GORG. I think they are both mad, nor can I understand anything of this
gibberish. Cathos, and you Madelon...

MAD. Pray, father, do not use those strange names, and call us by some
other.

GORG. What do you mean by those strange names? Are they not the names
your godfathers and godmothers gave you?

MAD. Good Heavens! how vulgar you are! I confess I wonder you could
possibly be the father of such an intelligent girl as I am. Did ever
anybody in genteel style talk of Cathos or of Madelon? And must you not
admit that either of these names would be sufficient to disgrace the
finest novel in the world?

CAT. It is true, uncle, an ear rather delicate suffers extremely at
hearing these words pronounced, and the name of Polixena, which my
cousin has chosen, and that of Amintha, which I took, possesses a charm,
which you must needs acknowledge.

[Footnote: The _precieuses_ often changed their names into more poetical
and romantic appellations. The Marquise de Rambouillet, whose real name
was Catherine, was known under the anagram of Arthenice.]

GORG. Hearken; one word will suffice. I do not allow you to take any
other names than those that were given you by your godfathers and
godmothers; and as for those gentlemen we are speaking about, I know
their families and fortunes, and am determined they shall be your
husbands. I am tired of having you upon my hands. Looking after a couple
of girls is rather too weighty a charge for a man of my years.