I have a letter from Monsieur Berowne to one Lady Rosaline.
Ay, sir; from one Monsieur Berowne, one of the strange queen’s lords.
A light for Monsieur Judas!
This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve; Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve: He can carve too, and lisp: why this is he That kiss’d his hand away in courtesy; This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice In honourable terms; nay, he can sing A mean most meanly; and in ushering Mend him who can: the ladies call him sweet; The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet.
] Monsieur, are you not lettered?
[Enter MONSIEUR MARCADE, a messenger.
There are no more uses of "Monsieur" in the play.
Show samples from other sources
Monsieur and Madame Curie studied radium.
Just think, monsieur, I had no idea that we should go farther than Paris;