Molière,
The Learned Women — Act III
(1672)
“ And when this chariot meets your eyes, Where so much gold emboss'd doth rise That people all astonished stand, And Laïs rides in triumph through the land, Say no more it is amaranth, Say rather it is o' my rent. ARM. Oh, oh, oh! this is beyond everything; who would have expected that?PHI. He is the only one to write in such taste.BEL. Say no more it is amaranth, say rather it is o' my rent! It can be declined; my rent; of my rent; to my rent; from my rent.PHI. I do not know whether I was prepossessed from the first moment I saw you, but I admire all your prose and verse whenever I see it. ”
