the evening, as above, thirty sous." Ten sous, Mr. Fleurant. "Item, on
the 27th, a good mixture composed for the purpose of driving out the
bad humours of Mr. Argan, three francs." Good; twenty and thirty sous;
I am glad that you are reasonable. "Item, on the 28th, a dose of
clarified and edulcorated whey, to soften, lenify, temper, and refresh
the blood of Mr. Argan, twenty sous." Good; ten sous. "Item, a potion,
cordial and preservative, composed of twelve grains of bezoar, syrup
of citrons and pomegranates, and other ingredients, according to the
prescription, five francs." Ah! Mr. Fleurant, gently, if you please;
if you go on like that, no one will wish to be unwell. Be satisfied
with four francs. Twenty, forty sous. Three and two are five, and five
are ten, and ten are twenty. Sixty-three francs four sous six deniers.
So that during this month I have taken one, two, three, four, five,
six, seven, eight mixtures, and one, two, three, four, five, six,
seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve clysters; and last month there
were twelve mixtures and twenty clysters. I am not astonished,
therefore, that I am not so well this month as last. I shall speak to
Mr. Purgon about it, so that he may set the matter right. Come, let
all this be taken away. (_He sees that no one comes, and that he is
alone._) Nobody. It's no use, I am always left alone; there's no
way of keeping them here. (_He rings a hand-bell._) They don't
hear, and my bell doesn't make enough noise. (_He rings again._)
No one. (_He rings again._) Toinette! (_He rings again._) It's just
as if I didn't ring at all. You hussy! you jade! (_He rings again._)
Confound it all! (_He rings and shouts._) Deuce take you, you
wretch!