Jacques Bonneval; Or, The Days of the DragonnadesManning, Anne
General
Jacques Bonneval; Or, The Days of the Dragonnades
Manning, Anne
Huguenots -- Fiction
"My friends, this small bottle contains a famous specific, for those who
know how to use it prudently. When I say prudently, I mean that there
are certain things it will do and others it will not. This remedy is for
increasing the strength, improving the appetite, and clearing the head.
Will it, therefore, set a broken arm or draw a tooth? Most certainly
not. I can draw a tooth for you, if you like it (by-the-by, some think
I have a gift that way, but self-praise is no recommendation); I can
draw a tooth, I say, no matter with how many fangs; but this medicine
cannot. Does it follow, then, that it will cure a cough or sore throat?
Not at all. Here, if you like (taking up another bottle) is something
that will, but what is that to the purpose? Will it cure sore eyes? No;
or sprains? Far from it. No, no, my most excellent ladies and gentlemen,
let us not form unreasonable expectations; day is not night; summer is
not winter; nor is a horse-medicine a febrifuge. It is useless to assert
such trash to sensible, well-informed people, Here is an opportunity,
such as most of you may possibly never have again, of buying a most
delightful and effectual medicine, sweet, not nauseous (strongly
reminding one of cherry-brandy), gently exhilarating, and very difficult
to be procured; indeed, I have only three small doses of it--three, did
I say? I'm afraid I have only two--let me see--Oh, yes, here are three;
and the price is merely nominal--"
The extreme frankness and moderation of this harangue of course met with
great success; and purchasers speedily bought, not only his three pink
bottles, but his green ones, his blue ones, his pills, his pomades, and
his perfumed medicinal soaps that were to soften the skin, strengthen
the joints, and promote longevity. After this, he sang a comic song of
innumerable verses (with horn obligato) and delivered a discourse, in
which he said there had never been more than three great men in the
world, Louis the Fourteenth, Alexander the Great, and Hippocrates, the
father of physic.
It was surprising to me how he carried on this game hour after hour,
apparently without fatigue, and always to the delight of his audience,
new-comers continually pressing around him, and old ones lingering in
the distance with broad smiles on their faces. A little of it was well
enough, but I thought that to be always at it must be harder work than
the hardest handywork trade I knew. At last the day closed in, the
people departed, we supplied ourselves with food, and departed like
the rest.
"Now, then, have I not come off with flying colors?" said La Croissette,
complacently.
"Assuredly you have: but you must be very tired."
"Tired as can be--you know I had no sleep last night--we are coming to
a little thicket where we will roost for the night."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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