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....