FOOTNOTES:
The Imaginary Invalid • 第7章
FOOTNOTES:
[1] As usual, Argan only counts half; even after he has reduced the charge.
[2] Thomas Diafoirus is evidently going to base some compliment on the belle-mère. The only way out of the difficulty in English seems to be to complete the sentence somewhat.
[3] Harvey’s treatise on the circulation of the blood was published in 1628. His discovery was violently opposed for a long time afterwards.
[4] Molière seems to refer to Dr. Guenaut, who was said to have killed with antimony (his favourite remedy) his wife, his daughter, his nephew, and two of his sons-in-law.—AIMÉ MARTIN.
[5] Oubliés; now called plaisirs. “Wafers” would perhaps have been the right rendering in Molière’s time.
[6] This piece is composed of a mixture of dog-Latin, French, &c. and is utterly untranslateable.
[7] It is said that it was when uttering this word that Molière gave way to the illness from which he had long suffered.
[TN] Transcriber’s Note (from a reader):
The above was a litteral rendition of the text. After this eBook was published in PG we received the following:
Dear sir or madam:
The original translator of the Moliere’s play “The Imaginary Invalid” did not translate the third interlude into English, simply declaring that it was “utterly untranslateable”(sic).
My father (Duane Larrieu, retired linguist) has translated this third Interlude and requested that I submit it to Project Gutenberg on his behalf. His translation of the Third Interlude follows:
Burlesque Ceremony representing the Admission of Mr. Geronte to the Degree of Doctor of Medicine.
First Entry of the Ballet
Gentleman in Charge.
First Doctor
Baccalaureate Holder
Chorus
Second Doctor
Baccalaureate Holder
Chorus
Third Doctor
Baccalaureate Holder
Mister Chrysologos, that is, he who talks of gold, the doctor, asks me why a little milk and a heap of bran, phlebotomy and purging of humors are called doctor’s idols and asses’ bridge by naysayers. My answer is that prescribing such things doesn’t require a lot of knowledge and out of those four things doctors make louis, pistoles, and fourths of ecus.
Chorus
Fourth Doctor
With the permission of you, sir, who are in charge, and of the entire faculty, and of the company attending these activities of ours, I will ask you learned baccalaureate holder, what are the remedies to be given both to a man and to a woman suffering from the illness called hydropsy, from bodily issues such as apoplexy, convulsion, and paralysis?
Baccalaureate Holder
Chorus
Fifth Doctor
I will ask you, learned baccalaureate holder, to return one day to a house full of illnesses. What are the remedies to come up with for colicosis, febrosis, for maniacs, nephritics, frenetics, melancholics, demoniacs, asthmatics and pulmonics, for catharrosics, tussicolisics, guttosics, lepers and gallosics, for apostemasis, plague and ulcers, for every broken or fractured member?
Baccalaureate Holder
Chorus
Sixth Doctor
With the kind allowance of the respected gentleman in charge, of the successors of Hippocrates, and of the whole circle of those with their eyes fixed on us, I ask you, oh determined baccalaureate holder, a college graduate not unworthy of Montpelier, what are the remedies to be given to the blind, the deaf, the mute, to manchotics, claudics, and all the estropiatics, for problem feet, toothaches, afflictions, rabies, and the overwhelmingly great commotion in every newlywed?
Baccalaureate Holder
Chorus
Seventh Doctor
The baccalaureate gentleman has marvelously addressed all those illnesses; but if I do not bore the most learned faculty and the entire honorable company present here in body and in mind, I will put one question to him; yesterday a sick person fell into my hands, a person of rank and rich as Croesus. He has a severe fever that is ongoing, a serious headache, with trouble breathing and diarrhea of the stomach, along with a serious problem in his side and real difficulty and pain breathing. Please tell me, learned baccalaureate holder, what to do for him.
Baccalaureate Holder
Chorus
The Same Doctor
But if, holding off from asking why, the illness about which an opinion has been furnished, doesn’t want to get well, then what’s to be done for it?
Baccalaureate Holder
Chorus
Eighth Doctor
I beg leave of you, sir, who are in charge, of the select assembly of doctors, both practicing and eager to practice, and of the curious flock of onlookers.
Oh so smart Baccalaureate holder, who so far could not be outflanked, I shall ask you one important question. Sirs, give us your attention. Quite early to-day, slightly before I had breakfast, a once lovely young Italian lady came to me. In fact, I still think of her as being somewhat a young girl. She was all pale-fleshed. The best doctors call it a white fever. She came complaining of a migraine, of shortness of breath, of feeling overburdened, of swollen legs and terrible weariness; of a pounding heart, and of a choked feeling, also called hysterical inhalation, which, like all illnesses ending in –ic, casts a snub on Galen. She appeared worn out and looked as green as goose droppings. Judging from her small racing heartbeat and the foul urine she brought in a container, she appeared not to be free of feverish bouts. Lastly, she was so weak that she came from her bed on horseback, actually, it was a mule. She hadn’t had her menses since that day that is called the day of lots of water. But she told me in my ear that it was a real marvel that she wasn’t dead. Because in her line of work there wasn’t much love, just too much heartiness. Her gallant guy had gone to Germany to serve on a campaign for mister Brandenburg. So far a bunch of charlatans, doctors, apothecaries, and surgeons have been working in vain to cure her illness, going so far as the new influenzas of that dopey Van Helmont, using everything from crab eyes to alchemy.
Kindly tell me what’s left, in keeping with orthodoxy, to do for her.
Baccalaureate Holder
Chorus
Same Doctor
But if such an enormous and mortally obstinate withering of the natural organs cannot be cured by giving a clyster, purifying, and purging, over and over again for a hundred times, what would you finally come up with to do for her?
Baccalaureate Holder
Order her, in the name of blessed Hippocrates, to couple with a good young lad.
Gentleman in Charge
Baccalaureate Holder
Gentleman in Charge
Baccalaureate Holder
Gentlewoman in Charge
Baccalaureate Holder
Gentleman in Charge
With this venerable and learned doctor’s cap, I give and grant you the power, might and medical license, plus the approach to take, namely,
Clysterizing, Purifying, Purging, Bleeding, Ventilating, Sacrificing, Piercing, Slicing, Cutting, Drenching, Burning,
in a word, in keeping with the procedures and of killing without penalty, not just for Parisians but anyone in the world; sir, express gratitude to these gentlemen.
Second Entry of the Ballet.
All the Doctors and Apothecaries come and do him reverence.
Baccalaureate Holder
Great teachers in regard to instruction concerning rhubarb and senna, it would undoubtedly be a foolish, inappropriate and ridiculous thing for me if I allowed myself to engage in providing you with praises and undertake to add light to the sun, stars to the sky, flames to hell, waves to the ocean, and roses to the spring.
Allow me, with just a single word of all my gratitude to say thank you to such a learned group. To you, to you, I owe much more than to nature and to my father; nature and my father made me a human being. But you have made me a doctor (which is much more). Honor, favor, and gratitude that will definitely remain as feeling in this heart forever.
Chorus
Live a long life, live a long life, live a long life, live a long life, a hundred times let the new doctor who speaks so well live a long life! For a thousand, thousand years let him eat and drink, and cure and kill.
Third Entry of the Ballet.
All the Doctors and Apothecaries dance to the sound of instruments and voices, the clapping of hands, and the beating of Apothecaries’ mortars.
Surgeon
May he just see his learned stipulations and fill the offices of surgeons and apothecaries.
Chorus
Live a long life, live a long life, live a long life, live a long life, a hundred times let the new doctor who speaks so well live a long life! For a thousand, thousand years let him eat and drink, and cure and kill.
Apothecary
May all his years be good and favorable for him and may he never grapple with plagues or epidemics that are evil beasts.
But always pleurisies, pulmonias in the kidneys and vesical lumps, one-year rheumatisms, and all kinds of fevers, bloodflows, diabolic gouts, St. Joan’s problems, Poitou colics, Dutch scurvy, small and large poxes, good cankers and long brain problems.
Chorus
Live a long life, live a long life, live a long life, live a long life, a hundred times let the new doctor who speaks so well live a long life! For a thousand, thousand years let him eat and drink, and cure and kill.
Fourth Entry of the Ballet.
All the Doctors and Apothecaries go out according to their rank, as they came in.
THE END