Numerous are the examples of this on the stage. Without entering
into details of the variations executed on this theme, let us quote
two or three passages in which the theme itself is set forth in all
its simplicity. "You are only bound to treat people according to
form," says Doctor Diafoirus in the "Malade imaginaire". Again, says
Doctor Bahis, in "L'Amour medecin": "It is better to die through
following the rules than to recover through violating them." In the
same play, Desfonandres had previously said: "We must always observe
the formalities of professional etiquette, whatever may happen." And
the reason is given by Tomes, his colleague: "A dead man is but a
dead man, but the non-observance of a formality causes a notable
prejudice to the whole faculty." Brid'oison's words, though.
embodying a rather different idea, are none the less significant:
"F-form, mind you, f-form. A man laughs at a judge in a morning
coat, and yet he would quake with dread at the mere sight of an
attorney in his gown. F-form, all a matter of f-form."

Here we have the first illustration of a law which will appear with
increasing distinctness as we proceed with our task. When a musician
strikes a note on an instrument, other notes start up of themselves,
not so loud as the first, yet connected with it by certain definite
relations, which coalesce with it and determine its quality. These
are what are called in physics the overtones of the fundamental
note. It would seem that comic fancy, even in its most far-fetched
inventions, obeys a similar law. For instance, consider this comic
note: appearance seeking to triumph over reality. If our analysis is
correct, this note must have as its overtones the body tantalising
the mind, the body taking precedence of the mind. No sooner, then,
does the comic poet strike the first note than he will add the
second on to it, involuntarily and instinctively. In other words, HE