Charles Heron Wall - The Imaginary Invalid (Act 3 Scene 6) lyrics

SCENE VI.——MR. PURGON, ARGAN, BÉRALDE, TOINETTE. Mr. PUR. I have just heard nice news downstairs! You laugh at my prescriptions, and refuse to take the remedy which I ordered. ARG. Sir, it is not … Mr. PUR. What daring boldness, what a strange revolt of a patient against his doctor! TOI. It is frightful. Mr. PUR. A clyster which I have had the pleasure of composing myself. ARG. It was not I…. Mr. PUR. Invented and made up according to all the rules of art. TOI. He was wrong. Mr. PUR. And which was to work a marvellous effect on the intestines. ARG. My brother … Mr. PUR. To send it back with contempt! ARG. (showing Béralde). It was he…. Mr. PUR. Such conduct is monstrous. TOI. So it is. Mr. PUR. It is a fearful outrage against medicine. ARG. (showing Béralde). He is the cause…. Mr. PUR. A crime of high-treason against the faculty, and one which cannot be too severely punished. TOI. You are quite right. Mr. PUR. I declare to you that I break off all intercourse with you. ARG. It is my brother…. Mr. PUR. That I will have no more connection with you. TOI. You will do quite right. Mr. PUR. And to end all a**ociation with you, here is the deed of gift which I made to my nephew in favour of the marriage. (He tears the document, and throws the pieces about furiously.) ARG. It is my brother who has done all the mischief. Mr. PUR. To despise my clyster! ARG. Let it be brought, I will take it directly. Mr. PUR. I would have cured you in a very short time. TOI. He doesn't deserve it. Mr. PUR. I was about to cleanse your body, and to clear it of its bad humours. ARG. Ah! my brother! Mr. PUR. And it wanted only a dozen purgatives to cleanse it entirely. TOI. He is unworthy of your care. Mr. PUR. But since you would not be cured by me … ARG. It was not my fault. Mr. PUR. Since you have forsaken the obedience you owe to your doctor … TOI. It cries for vengeance. Mr. PUR. Since you have declared yourself a rebel against the remedies I had prescribed for you … ARG. No, no, certainly not. Mr. PUR. I must now tell you that I give you up to your bad constitution, to the imtemperament of your intestines, to the corruption of your blood, to the acrimony of your bile, and to the feculence of your humours. TOI. It serves you right. ARG. Alas! Mr. PUR. And I will have you before four days in an incurable state. ARG. Ah! mercy on me! Mr. PUR. You shall fall into bradypepsia. ARG. Mr. Purgon! Mr. PUR. From bradypepsia into dyspepsia. ARG. Mr. Purgon! Mr. PUR. From dyspepsia into apepsy. ARG. Mr. Purgon! Mr. PUR. From apepsy into lientery. ARG. Mr. Purgon! Mr. PUR. From lientery into dysentery. ARG. Mr. Purgon! Mr. PUR. From dysentery into dropsy. ARG. Mr. Purgon! Mr. PUR. And from dropsy to the deprivation of life into which your folly will bring you.