Characters:
George
Harris (William Samuel Harris)
Jerome K. Jerome
Mrs. Poppets (a housemaid)
Montmorency (a dog)
Scene I
In the living – room
(in front of the fireplace)
Harris: I feel such extraordinary fits of giddiness (touching his head) come over me at times.
George: (touching his head) So do I.
Harris: I hardly know what I am doing.
George: Neither do I. (Harris is looking at George with an interest.)
Jerome: It is my liver that is out of order (touching his liver place). I know it, because I have just been reading a patent liver-pill circular.
George: Do you ever read a patent medicine advertisement without being impelled to the conclusion that you are suffering from the particular disease therein dealt with in its most virulent form.
Jerome: It’s a most extraordinary thing, but I never read them. I don’t know what made me have read it.
Harris: (laughing) J, do you remember going to the British Museum?
J: Oh, it was an amazing thing! I went to read up the treatment for some slight ailment…
H: You got down the book, and read all you came to read; and then, in an unthinking moment, you idly turned the leaves, and began to study diseases, generally. I forget which was the first and, before you had glanced half down the list of "premonitory symptoms," it was borne in upon you that you had fairly got it.
J: I sat for a while, frozen with horror; I began to get interested in my case, and started alphabetically. Cholera I had, with severe complications; and diphtheria I seemed to have been born with, and the only malady I could conclude I had not got was housemaid's knee.
G: (smiling) I think what an interesting case you must be from a medical point of view. Students would have no need to "walk the hospitals," if they had you. You are a hospital in yourself. All they need do would be to walk round you, and, after that, take their diploma.
J: You are absolutely right!
H: (laughing) You walked into the reading room a happy, healthy man and crawled out a decrepit wreck.
Mrs. Poppets is coming in: Your dinner, gentlemen! Sit at table, please. You can have some steak and onions, and some rhubarb tart.
J: Thank you, Mrs. Poppets. We don’t want anything.
Mrs. Poppets: You had better try to swallow a bit. A little something in one’s stomach often keep the disease in check.
J (putting his arms round her waist and sighing): You are so kind. Mrs. Poppets.
Mrs. Poppets (patting on the back): What you want is rest!
)(going to the table
J: M-m. It smells delicious!
H: It smells wonderful!
G: It smells tasty!
J: Montmorency, come here! (Montmorency is coming up)
Scene II
(having dinner)
G: Rest and a complete change!
Mrs. Poppets: Change of scene, and absence of the necessity for thought, will restore the mental equilibrium.
H: You are so clever, Mrs. Poppets!
Mrs. Poppets: You should seek out some retired and old-world spot, far from the madding crowd, and dream away a sunny week among its drowsy lanes — some half-forgotten nook, hidden away by the fairies, out of reach of the noisy world.
J: I fully agree.
G: No, it would be humpy. If you want rest and change, you can't beat a sea trip."
Mrs. Poppets: A sea trip does you good when you are going to have a couple of months of it, but, for a week, it is wicked.
George: Let's go up the river. We should have fresh air, exercise and quiet; the constant change of scene would occupy our minds (including what there was of Harris's); and the hard work would give us a good appetite, and make us sleep well.
Harris: I don’t think George ought to do anything that would have a tendency to make him sleepier than he always was, as it might be dangerous.
J: The river would suit me to a "T". The only one who is not struck with the suggestion is Montmorency. He never does care for the river, does Montmorency.
(Everybody is looking at Montmorency)
Montmorency: Woof, woof! It's all very well for you fellows, you like it, but I don't. There's nothing for me to do. Scenery is not in my line, and I don't smoke. If I see a rat, you won't stop; and if I go to sleep, you get fooling about with the boat, and slop me overboard. If you ask me, I call the whole thing bally foolishness."
Mrs Poppets: They are three to one, however, and the motion is carried.
The music sounds.
Three gentlemen, holding a knife in one hand and a fork in another hand, are
pretending that they are rowing.
Then they are standing up and going behind the stage. Mrs. Poppets is waving
good bye to them.
Then everybody is going to the stage and taking a bow.