No More Learning

SGANARELLE: Are gifted with a certain malignancy
which is caused--please pay attention----

GERONTE: I am doing so.

SGANARELLE: Which is caused by the acridity of the
humour engendered in the concavity of the diaphragm, it
happens that these vapours--_Ossabundus, nequezs, nequer,
potarinum, quipsa milus_. That is just what makes your
daughter dumb.

GERONTE: No one, doubtless, could argue better.
There is but one thing that puzzles me. It seems to me
that you place the heart and liver differently from where
they are; the heart is on the left side, and the liver on
the right.

SGANARELLE: Yes, that was so formerly; but we have
changed all that, and nowadays we practise medicine by
an entirely new method.

GERONTE: I did not know that. I must ask you to
pardon my ignorance.

SGANARELLE: There is no harm done. You are not
obliged to be as clever as we are.

GERONTE: Certainly not. But what do you think,
monsieur, ought to be done for this complaint?

SGANARELLE: My advice is that she should be put to
bed, and, for a remedy, you must see that she takes plenty
of bread soaked in wine.

GERONTE: Why so, monsieur?
SGANARELLE: Because in bread and wine mixed together
there is a sympathetic virtue which causes speech.
Don't you know that they give nothing else to parrots,
and that they learn to speak by being fed on this diet?

GERONTE: That is true. What a great man you are!
Quick, bring plenty of bread and wine.

SGANARELLE: I shall come back at night to see how
she is getting on.

GERONTE: Just wait a moment, please.

SGANARELLE: What do you want?

GERONTE: To give you your fee, monsieur.

SGANARELLE (_holding out his hand from under his
gown, while Geronte opens his purse_): I shall not take it,
monsieur.

GERONTE: I beseech you.

SGANARELLE: You are jesting.

GERONTE: That is settled.

SGANARELLE: I will not.

GERONTE: What!

SGANARELLE: I don't practise for money.