Old Lar. Why you see a very honest Neighbour of yours, that has try’d to deliver you out of the Claws of a roguish Priest, whom you may see too; look in the Glass and you may see an old doating Fool, who is afraid of his own Shadow.
Mart. Be not concerned at this, Son. Perhaps, one Hour’s suffering from this Fellow, may strike off several Years of Purgatory; I have known such Instances.
Jourd. Oh! Father! Didst thou know what I have been guilty of believing against thee, from the Mouth of this wicked Man?
Old Lar. Death and the Devil, I’ll stay no longer here; for if I do, I shall cut this Priest’s Throat, tho’ the Rack was before my Face.
SCENE VI.
Martin, Jourdain.
Mart. Son, take care of believing any thing against the Church: It is as sinful to believe any thing against the Church, as to disbelieve any thing for it. You are to believe what the Church tells you, and no more.
Jourd. I almost shudder when I think what I believed against you. I believed that you had seduced my Daughter.
Mart. Oh! horrible! and did you believe it? Think not you believed it. I order you to think you did not believe it, and it were now sinful to believe you did believe it.
Jourd. And can I think so.
Mart. Certainly. I know what you believe better than you your self do. However, that your Mind may be cleansed from the least Pollution of Thought — go say over ten Bead-Rolls immediately, go and Peace attend you ——
Jourd. I am exceedingly comforted within.
SCENE VII.
Martin solus.
Go. While I retire and comfort your Daughter. Was this a Suspicion of Laroon’s, or am I betrayed? I begin to fear. I’ll act with Caution, for I am not able yet to discover whether this Girl be of prodigious Simplicity or Cunning. How vain is Policy, when the little Arts of a Woman are superior to the Wisdom of a Conclave. A Priest may cheat Mankind, but a Woman would cheat the Devil.
SCENE VIII. The Street.
Old Laroon, Young Laroon meet.
Y. Lar. Well, Sir, what Success?
Old Lar. Success! you Rascal! If ever you offer to put me into a Priest’s Skin again, I’ll beat you out of your own.
Y. Lar. What’s the Matter, Sir?
Old Lar. Matter, Sir? Why I have been laughed at, have been abused. ‘Sdeath! Sir! I am in such a Passion, that I do not believe I shall come to my self again these twenty Years. That Rascal Martin discovered me in an Instant, and turned me into a Jest.
Y. Lar. Be comforted, Sir, you may yet have the Pleasure of turning him into one.
Old Lar. Nothing less than turning him inside out. —— Nothing less than broiling his Gizzard will satisfy me.
Y. Lar. Come with me, and I dare swear, I’ll give your Revenge Content. We have laid a Snare for him, which I think it is impossible he should escape.
Old Lar. A Snare for a Priest! a Trap for the Devil! You will as soon catch the one as the other.
Y. Lar. I am sure our Bait is good —— A fine Woman is as good a Bait for a Priest-trap, as toasted Cheese is for a Mouse-trap.
Old Lar. Yes, but the Rascal will nibble off twenty Baits before you can take him.
Y. Lar. Leave that to us. I’ll warrant our Success.
Old Lar. Wilt thou? then I shall have more Pleasure in taking this one Priest, than in all the other wild Beasts I have ever taken.
SCENE IX.
Jourdain, Isabel.
Isa. If I don’t convince you he’s a Villain, renounce me for your Daughter. Do not shut your Ears against Truth, and you shall want no other Evidence.
Jourd. Oh, Daughter, Daughter, some Evil Spirit is busy with you. The same Spirit that visited me this Morning, is now in you.
Isa. I wish the Spirit that is in me wou’d visit you, you wou’d kick this Rogue out of Doors.
Jourd. The wicked Reason of your Anger is too plain. The Priest won’t let you have your Fellow.
Isa. The Priest would have me for himself.
Jourd. Oh! wicked Assertion! Oh! base Return for the Care he has taken of your poor sinful Father, for the Love he has shewn for your Soul.
Isa. He has shewn more Love for my Body, believe me, Sir. Nay, go but with me, and you shall believe your own Eyes and Ears.
Jourd. Against the Church, Heaven forbid!
Isa. Will you not believe your own Senses, Sir?
Jourd. Not when the Church contradicts them. — Alas! How do we know what we believe without the Church? Why I thought I saw Mr. Laroon and his Son to-day, when I saw neither. Alack-a-day, Child, the Church often contradicts our Senses. But you owe these wicked Thoughts to your Education in England, that vile heretical Country, where every Man believes what Religion he pleases, and most believe none.
Isa. Well, Sir, if you will not be convinced, you shall be the only Person in Toulon that is not.
Jourd. I will go with thee, if it were only to see how far this wicked Spirit will carry his Imposition; for I am convinced the Devil will leave no Stone unturn’d to work my Destruction.
Isa. I hope you will find us too hard for him and his Ambassador too.
SCENE X. Another Apartment.
Young Laroon in Woman’s Clothes.
None ever waited with more Impatience for her Lover than I for mine. It is a delightful Assignation, but I hope it is a Prelude to one more agreeable. I shall have Difficulty to refrain from beating the Rascal before he has discover’d himself —
[Knocking at the Door.]
Who’s there?
[Softly.]
Bea. Isabel, Isabel.
Old Lar. Come in. What a soft Voice the Rogue caterwauls in.
SCENE XI.
Young Laroon, Beatrice.
Bea. What are you doing in the Dark, my Dear?
Y. Lar. Heyday, who the Devil is this? I seem to be in a way of an Assignation in earnest.
Bea. Isabel, where are you?
Y. Lar. Here, Child, give me your Hand. Dear Mademoiselle Beatrice, is it you?
Bea. Oh Heavens! am I in a Man’s Arms?
Y. Lar. Hush! hush! —— Don’t you know my Voice —— I am Laroon.
Bea. Mr. Laroon! What Business can you have here?
Y. Lar. Ask me no Questions, get but into a Corner of the Room and be silent, and you will perhaps see a very diverting Scene. Nay, do not be afraid, for I assure you, it will be a very innocent one; make haste, dear Madam, you will do a very laudable Action, by being an additional Evidence to the Discovery of a notorious Villain.
Bea. I cannot guess your Meaning, but would willingly assist on such an Occasion.
Yo. Lar. Now for my desiring Lover. Ha! I think I hear him.
SCENE XII.
Young Laroon, Martin.
Mart. Isabel, Isabel, where are you?
Yo. Lar. Here.
Mart. Come to my Arms, my Angel.
Yo. Lar. I hope you are in no frightful Shape.
Mart. I am in the Shape of that very good Man thy Confessor, honest Father Martin. Let me embrace thee, my Love, my Charmer.
Yo. Lar. Bless me, what do you mean?
Mart. The Words even of a Spirit cannot tell you what I mean. Lead me to thy Bed, there shalt thou know my Meaning. There will we repeat those Pleasures which this Day I gave thee in another Shape — Tread softly, my dearest, sweetest! This Night shall make thee Mother to a Pope.
[Laroon leads him out.
SCENE XIII. Another Apartment.
Old Laroon, Jourdain, Isabel, a Priest, Young Laroon, Martin, and Beatrice.
Mart. Whither would you pull me?
Yo. Lar. Villain, I’ll shew thee whither.
Mart. Ha!
Yo. Lar. Down on thy Knees, confess thy self the worst of Villains, or I’ll drive this Dagger to thy Heart.
Priest. He needs not confess, our Ears are sufficient Witnesses against him.
Old Lar. Huzzah! Huzzah! The Priest is caught, the Priest is caught.
Jourd. I am Thunder-struck with Amazement.
Old Lar. How durst
you attempt to debauch my Son, you black Rascal: I have a great Mind to make an Example of you for attempting to dishonour my Family.
Priest. You shall be made a severe Example of for having dishonour’d your Order.
Mart. I shall find another time to answer you.
Old Lar. Hold, Sir, hold. I have too much Charity not to cleanse you, as much as possible, from your Pollution. So, Who’s there? [Enter Servants.] Here take this worthy Gentleman, and wash him a little in a Horse-pond, then toss him dry in a Blanket.
1 Serv. We will wash him with a Vengeance.
All. Ay, ay, we’ll wash him.
Mart. You may repent this, Mr. Laroon.
SCENE the Last.
Old Laroon, Young Laroon, Jourdain, Priest, Isabel, and Beatrice.
Priest. Tho’ he deserves the worst, yet consider his Order, Mr. Laroon.
Old Lar. Sir, he shall undergo the Punishment, tho’ I suffer the like afterwards. Well, Master Jourdain, I hope you are now convinced, that you may marry your Daughter without going to Purgatory for it.
Jourd. I hope you will pardon what is past, my good Neighbour. And you, young Gentleman, will, I hope, do the same. If my Girl can make you any amends, I give you her for ever.
Yo. Lar. Amends! Oh! She would make me large Amends for twenty thousand times my Sufferings.
Isa. Tell me so hereafter, my dear Lover. A Woman may make a Man amends for his Sufferings before Marriage; but can she make him amends for what he suffers after it?
Yo. La. Oh! think not that can ever be my Fate with you.
Old Lar. Pox o’ your Raptures. If you don’t make her suffer before to-morrow-morning, thou art no Son of mine, and if she does not make you suffer within this Twelve-month: Blood she is no Woman — Come, honest Neighbour, I hope thou hast discovered thy own Folly and the Priest’s Roguery together, and thou wilt return and be one of us again.
Jourd. Mr. Laroon, if I have err’d on one side, you have err’d as widely on the other. Let me tell you, a Reflexion on the Sins of your Youth would not be unwholesome.
Old Lar. ‘Sblood Sir! but it wou’d. Reflexion is the most unwholesome thing in the World. Besides, Sir, I have no Sins to reflect on but those of an honest Fellow. If I have lov’d a Whore at five and twenty, and a Bottle at forty; Why, I have done as much good as I could, in my Generation; and that, I hope, will make amends.
Isa. Well, my dear Beatrice, and are you positively bent on a Nunnery still?
Bea. Hum! I suppose you will laugh at me, if I shou’d change my Resolution; but I have seen so much of a Priest to-day, that I really believe, I shall spend my Life in the Company of a Lay-man.
Old Lar. Why, that is bravely said, Madam, S’bud! I like you, and if I had not resolv’d, for the Sake of this Rascal here, never to marry again, S’bud! I might take you into my Arms: And I can tell you, they are as warm as any young Fellow’s in Europe — Come, Master Jourdain, this Night, you and I will crack a Bottle together, and to-morrow morning we will employ this honest Gentleman here, to tack our Son and Daughter together, and then I don’t care if I never see a Priest again as long as I live.
Isa. [to Yo. Lar.] Well, Sir. You see we have got the better of all Difficulties at last. The Fears of a Lover are very unreasonable, when he is once assured of the Sincerity of his Mistress,
For when a Woman sets her self about it,
Nor Priest, nor Devil can make her go without it.
THE MOCK DOCTO R
OR, THE DUMB LADY CUR’D:
First performed on 23 June 1732 at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, this drama became the companion piece to The Old Debauchees. It narrates the cunning exploits of a man who pretends to be a doctor at his wife’s request. The Mock Doctor is an adaptation of Molière’s Le Medecin malgre Lui, being a pure comedy and, unlike other plays by Fielding, having no serious moral lesson or purpose. The drama was the replacement for The Covent-Garden Tragedy and achieved far greater success, running for a total of twenty-four nights and was later frequently revived even until the nineteenth century.
The plot introduces Gregory, who starts off as a simple woodcutter by trade, but his wife forces him to take on the role of doctor. He disguises himself as Dr Ragou, a Frenchman, and goes to treat Sir Jasper’s daughter, Charlotte, who pretends to be unable to speak, as she feels that it is the only way for her to avoid marrying her father’s choice of husband. Although Fielding is in debt to Molière, he made the play his own. In terms of characters, the power of the husband figure is shifted to the wife figure, and there is a connection between Gregory and the real life John Misaubin, of whom Fielding dedicates The Mock Doctor.
Molière, (1622-1673) was a French playwright and actor, who is considered to be one of the greatest masters of comedy in Western literature. Many of Molière’s works inspired Fielding throughout his theatrical career, including his adaptation in ‘The Mock Doctor’.
CONTENTS
PREFACE
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
EPILOGUE
TO DR. JOHN MISAUBIN
SIR,
Were I not well assured of your great candour, the opinion I have of your nice judgment and refined taste might give me terrible apprehensions, while I am presenting you a piece, wherein, I fear, much injustice is done to an author, whose beauties you can so exquisitely relish in the original.
It would be hard to make a more delicate compliment to a lady than by dedicating to her the Sixth Satire of JUVENAL. Such an address must naturally suppose her free from all the vices and follies there inveighed against. Permit me, therefore, sir, to prefix to a farce, wherein Quacks are so cleverly exposed, the name of one who will be remembered as an honour to his profession, while there is a single practitioner in town at whose door there is a lamp in an evening.
I shall not here proceed, in the common road of dedications, to sum up the many great talents with which nature has enriched me: I shall not here, as I might, enlarge on excellences so well known to the world; nor shall I mention here that politeness, which appears equal with your wit in your conversation, and has made you the desire of the great, and the envy of the whole profession; that generous elegance with which you treat your friends and patients, insomuch that the latter are often gainers by their distempers, and drink you out more in wine than they pay you for physic.
I shall not, I say, mention these: but I cannot, without the greatest violence to myself, pass by that Little Pill which has rendered you so great a blessing to mankind; that Pill which is the opposite to Pandora’s Box, and has done more real good in the world than the poets feign the other to have done evil. Forgive me, sir, if I am not able to contain myself while I am talking of this invaluable remedy, to which so many owe their health, their pleasure, nay, the very preservation of their being.
It is this, sir, which has animated the brethren of your faculty against you: that has made them represent one of the greatest men of this age as an illiterate empiric, for which weak effort of their malice you have continually had a very laudable and just contempt.
Were I not apprehensive of offending your ears, that are so averse to flattery, I might here mention your great skill in divinity, philosophy, &c., almost equal to your knowledge in physic. But this the world will, I hope, be soon acquainted with, by your being prevailed on to publish some of those excellent treatises which your leisure hours have produced, and which may, perhaps, be almost as serviceable to mankind as the labours of our most celebrated divines have been.
And now, sir, give me leave to conclude by wishing that you may meet with the reward you merit: that the gratitude of some of your patients may, in return for the lengthening of their lives, contribute to immortalise your reputation; that I may see a statue erected to your memory, with that serpent of Æsculapius in your hand, which you so deservedly bear in your arms, is the sincere wish of,
Sir,
Your most obedient,
Host humble servant.
PREFACE
LE MEDECIN MALGRE LUI of Molière hath b
een always esteemed in France the best of that author’s humorous pieces.
Misanthrope, to which it was first added, owed to it chiefly its success. That excellent play was of too grave a kind to hit the genius of the French nation; on which account the author, in a very few days, produced this farce; which being added to the Misanthrope, gave it one of the greatest runs that any play ever met with on that stage.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 295
