clothes fit me well?

TAIL. No doubt about it. I defy any painter with his pencil to draw
you anything to fit more exactly. I have in my house a workman who to
get up a rhinegrave is the greatest genius of our time, and another
who in putting together a doublet is the hero of our age.

MR. JOUR. Are the wig and feathers as they should be?

TAIL. Everything is right.

MR. JOUR. (_looking carefully at the tailor's coat_). Oh! oh! Mr.
Tailor, you have there some of the stuff of the last coat you made for
me! I know it well.

TAIL. I thought the stuff so beautiful that I could not help cutting a
coat from it for myself.

MR. JOUR. Yes; but you should not have cut it from mine.

TAIL. Will you put on your coat?

MR. JOUR. Yes; give it me.

TAIL. Wait a moment. Things are not done in that manner. I have
brought my people with me to dress you to music; such coats as these
are only put on with ceremony. Hullo there! Come in.