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Level 3

The imaginary invalid

An adaptation of Molière’s play



Argan, sitting in his room.
He is counting his money.

ARGAN: “3 and 2 make 5, and 5 make 10.”

ARGAN: “Sleeping pills and a medicine for my bowels.
A syrup against bad moods.”

ARGAN: “This month: 8 treatments and 12 enemas.
Last month: 12 and 20. I feel worse. It makes sense.”

He rings to call Toinette, his servant.
He rings for a long time.

ARGAN: “Oh you idiot! One hour!”

ARGAN: “Well, make me a syrup.
It is to help me take a syrup this afternoon.”

TOINETTE: “These doctors are playing with your body.”

ARGAN: “Silence!
My daughter has to marry a future doctor, Thomas Diafoirus.”

TOINETTE: “Why this marriage?”

ARGAN: “I want my son-in-law to be a doctor to look after me.”

TOINETTE: “But are you really sick?”

ARGAN: “What do you say?

TOINETTE: “Alright, you are very sick.
But your daughter doesn’t need a doctor.”

ARGAN: “Don’t talk to your master like that!”

TOINETTE: “Sir, you are out of control.
I am your servant, I tell you the truth. It is normal.”

Argan, angry, runs after Toinette.

Béline, comes into the room.

BÉLINE: “My poor little husband, calm down.
There, there, take it easy my dear…”

ARGAN: “Sweetheart, I leave you all my money…
20 000 francs in gold, and two cheques.”

BÉLINE: “Oh no, do not talk about misfortune!
I do not want money!… How much again?”

ARGAN: “20 000 francs in gold.”

BÉLINE: “Don’t talk about money, please!…
How many in cheques?”

ARGAN: “4 000 francs and 6 000 francs.”

BÉLINE: “My love, you are more important than all the money in the world.”