The Madman's Trial Quacks

HE INHALES AND EXHALES

I think I might have cracked it, Ben.

Remember the dosage.

Write it down.

Have you put his lights out?

Butterworth.

Is he dead?

No, he's asleep. I've created a device for the inhalation of ether.

Mr Walker has decided you've had long enough to pay the owings.

If Mr Walker can wait just a little bit longer, that device is going to

make my fortune.

GLASS SMASHES Oh! That was the only one.

I've had enough of your gabble.

Now, if you don't give me the money, I'm going to set fire to your head.

I'll need my head to make the money, won't I?

Don't be clever!

-You have bumped him, haven't you?

-No, I told you, he's as...

Hold on, how about I give you...

Oh, a shilling! And you tell Mr Walker I wasn't here.

-He'll only send me back for it tomorrow.

-I know.

-And I'll set fire to your head then.

-And then I'll have the money.

You better have it tomorrow.

DOG WHINES

When he wakes up, tell him something came up and I had to pop out.

Sorry.

CLATTERING

Knife.

I'm thinking of joining the Society of Apothecaries.

HE LAUGHS

SHE LAUGHS

Very good.

Well, there's only so much I can learn from reading

and perhaps I would make useful acquaintances.

I shall need them if I ever hope to become a doctor.

I could be the toast of the Westminster Medical Club.

Oh, you are a funny little chaffinch.

Excuse me.

Oh, darling, perhaps you could purchase some thread today.

-My hems need re-stitching.

-Mmm.

Oh, and perhaps a pheasant for this evening.

I'm a little tired of beef and lamb...

..and ham.

Hmm.

Do you know why you're in shackles, Harold?

I attacked one of the spies.

-She was a nurse.

-She was a spy disguised as a nurse.

You broke her arm.

They came to arrest me, I had to fight back.

I thought we'd made some progress on this, Harold.

Do you remember last week when we did our paintings?

How we spoke about the difference between reality and perception?

The revolutionaries want me dead

because they think I'm a French noble.

Do you know they're planning to

seize control of the British Parliament?

We decided, didn't we, that perhaps your mind, or rather

a section of your mind, is making improper connections?

They have machines hidden under the Houses of Parliament.

They're planning to blow gases extracted from horse farts up

into the House of Commons in order to seize control of our MPs' minds.

HAROLD LAUGHS

The House of Commons will be filled with horse farts?

And I shall be tried and beheaded.

There's to be a trial.

But I shall kill myself before I give THEM the satisfaction.

What if you were found innocent?

HE LAUGHS

I hadn't thought of that.

-Can I help you?

-Is this the lecture on uterine disease?

I'm afraid the lectures are for members only.

Well, you didn't stop him.

-I assume he's a member.

-You assume?

I may not recognise them all, but I do know that none of them are women.

Then I should like to apply to be the first.

We cannot allow it.

Why ever not?

Can it make the slightest difference to the manner in which

I read a paper or comprehend a lecture?

Well, in short, yes, it can.

A woman's greater sensitivity makes her susceptible to strenuous

overstimulation from excessive reading or thought,

and the subjects covered here are often stirring.

We should be in danger of driving you to nervous exhaustion

or incurable insanity.

Why, if we opened our doors to the fairer sex,

the roses of England would be corrupted

and the country would surely fall.

Hmm.

Ah, Mr Burton. Will you be writing up today's operation

for the readers of the Times?

Another successful amputation by you is hardly news, Mr Lessing.

Our readers are far more interested in Patrice Dupont.

The Frenchman?

Last week, he grafted the skin of a pig onto a child's face.

It's a relatively simple process.

The test is whether it holds.

You will no doubt be fascinated by my next procedure.

I have designed a new set of surgical instruments

for the manipulation of the internal muscles of the eyeball.

And did you pay for those yourself?

I'm sorry?

Patrice Dupont's patron, Lord Cunningham,

has paid for the most dazzling array of knives and instruments.

I don't know what half of them are.

Neither does he, I imagine.

Do you have a patron, Mr Lessing?

If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment with a private patient.

Dupont's broken with his private patients.

He doesn't have to work at all now.

When he isn't in the pleasure gardens

in his latest French fashions,

he's quaffing caviar at the Westminster Medical Club.

But he's a surgeon.

You have to be a doctor to be a member of the Medical Club.

Not if you're connected,

and you've got hair as luscious as his.

This one, the Windsor, that's ivory and badger bristles.

Or this one's cheaper, the Dudley, that's wood and boar bristles.

You can sell them for commission.

This one very nice.

Wonderful. So you'll sell it to your customers, then?

Very nice.

You show me yours. Lovely.

TRANSLATION:

Fine.

I have liniments, syrups, lotions and ointments for every ailment.

This efficacious embrocation will cure

headache, toothache, earache, any ache in an instant.

Or is it corpulence which is affecting you?

Then fear not, Adam's Anti-fat acts on the food within the stomach,

preventing the process by which it turns to fat.

It will reduce a fat person by 2 to 5lb

every single week, guaranteed.

What a load of bosh, he should be ashamed of himself.

You realise none of that stuff actually works?

Oh, no, that one's very good.

You know it's working because it changes the colour of your stools.

It's probably a bit of laxative to make you think it's doing something.

Well, I'm not an expert like you,

but I try and do all I can to stay healthy.

Want to buy a toothbrush?

Nah, I use me finger.

-Anybody else want to buy a toothbrush?

-Shh.

Ladies, cure your husband's drunkenness with this

marvellous medicament which can be taken in tea, coffee or food,

absolutely and secretly curing the patient without his knowledge.

LAUGHTER

I also have lotions for the reinvigoration of the skin,

restoring youthfulness...

-I'm pretty sure he went bankrupt.

-No.

Well, what about that widow? Hmm?

What's her name? Lady Campbell. She's a friend of yours.

I wouldn't say friend.

Her father was my mother's...

Do you know, I don't know how they know each other.

But you can introduce me?

-Yes.

-Excellent.

-But I wouldn't get your hopes up.

-Why not?

She funded Dr Hawk's research into diseases of the rectum.

Yes, that was something of a one-off.

No-one else has inspired her generosity.

I'm sure I could persuade her.

Didn't she give money to a dentist?

I doubt it.

In fact, I wanted to ask for your help with something this afternoon.

A radical new treatment I've devised for a patient of mine.

Uh-huh?

This man believes that he may be seized by French spies

at any moment, and tried and executed.

Bloody hell, what's he done?

Nothing. He has extreme monomania.

Now, my idea is to stage the trial and acquit him,

thus liberating his mind of this delusion.

-Can I count on your help?

-No.

Do you want to meet Lady Campbell?

-Fine, I'll help.

-Good.

Now, I shall play the counsel for the defence.

With your permission I will ask Caroline to be key witness,

but I need judge and prosecution.

I've written a few lines,

a sketch, really, of how the events should proceed.

Now, above all, Harold must be convinced he is actually on trial.

I hardly have any lines in this little play of yours.

-Well, you can embellish a little as you see fit.

-Ha!

But please take it seriously, Robert,

a person's life and wellbeing are at stake.

Well, I think it's an absolutely splendid idea, William.

-Thank you, John.

-How much are you paying?

-You want to be paid?

-Yes, please.

I'm not paying you. You don't pay your friends for a favour.

Well, I'm strapped, William, I need cash.

-I suppose I could give you a few bob.

-Eight?

-Three.

But you owe me six, so I'll take it off that.

-I'll take the three and owe you nine.

-But that's the...

BELL CHIMES

KEY TURNS IN LOCK

You are under arrest, sir. I am in fact a French spy.

You are to be tried as a noble.

I knew this day would come.

HE MOUTHS

What are you doing here?

I'm your counsel for the defence.

I thought you were a doctor.

Yes, I'm both.

Le court is now in session.

Please all rise pour le judge.

Please be seated.

We're gathered here today to decide whether this man,

Harold Finch, is in fact a French noble.

But before we begin... Do you look after your teeth?

Still using a cloth?

If these fine new toothbrushes are good enough for a magistrate

like myself, then they are good enough for you.

Two models here for you today, ladies and gentlemen, the Windsor...

-What's going on?

-..which is made of ivory and the...

It is a...

public health announcement for the benefit of the gallery.

Quite common in these courts. Your Honour, shall we begin?

I'd ask you not to interrupt the judge

unless you wish to be held in contempt of court.

-Yes, you may proceed.

-Thank you.

Monsieur le judge, I, the counsel for the defence,

intend to prove today

that the accused, Mr Harold Finch,

is neither noble nor French,

and once this court finds him innocent, he will no longer have

to live in fear and can remove this burden completely from his mind.

I would like to call my first and only witness,

Madame Countess Marie Cornet Toulon Du Pan.

Madame Countess...

you are a famous and very well-known French aristocrat

from a long line of inbred baron viscount marquis et senor.

-Oui. Je suis.

-And is it true that you, in fact,

-know every single male noble in France?

-Oui. C'est vrai.

In fact, I slept with most of them at parties.

-Steady on, darling!

-Hey!

The prosecution will wait its turn.

You were saying Caroline... Countess.

Yes, I slept with all the French nobles at endless orgies

that would make even the Vatican blush.

Quite.

Now, looking around this room today, is there anyone here who you

recognise from one of these...wild evenings?

-Non, there is not.

-Are you certain?

Not even this man, the accused, Harold Finch?

Oh, definitely not him.

I would certainly never sleep with him.

In fact, if anything, I would say he was a peasant.

No further questions, Your Honour.

All done.

Shall I give my judgment?

What about the prosecution?

Oh, oh, yeah, uh, after the prosecution, exactly.

-Were you telling the truth just then?

-Oui.

No further questions.

-WHISPERS:

-What was that?!

-WHISPERS:

-I am not cross-examining my wife.

-WHISPERS:

-Well, he doesn't believe you, so do more.

-WHISPERS:

-Oh, you'll like the next bit.

I now call the defendant.

All will be well.

Mr Finch...

Or shall I address you by your real name, Henri Boulon?

You claim that you are not one of the noblesse,

and yet, I have a letter here, signed by you...

..saying that you grant permission for one of your vassals

to farm your land,

for which you expect to receive 40% of any profits from their harvest.

-What do you say to that?

-It wasn't me.

Oh, I put it to you, sir...

Or should I say Monsieur Le Petit Feast de France,

that it was you,

and that in addition to raping the poor,

you engaged in an endless diary of decadent aristocratic parties?

The outrageous nature of these sickening soirees,

the sheer tonnage of pheasant and pastries

served by bare-breasted peasant women

can only be described as UTTERLY FRENCH.

Objection, Your Honour,

such parties are clearly beyond credibility.

Not at all, I've been to several such occasions.

You are a noble, you are guilty, and all of France knows it!

Is that enough?

How does the prosecution intend to prove the authenti...

Give me that.

A tailor's bill for the purchase of riding britches

by one Mr Lessing, whoever he is.

Your Honour, there is no case against my defendant.

Very good, the court has had enough.

I hereby find this man not guilty.

Oh, oh, well, justice has been done.

-There you are, you see, Harold.

-But I am guilty, you fools!

-No.

-I-I am a noble, my name IS Henri Boulon.

I paid her to lie.

I have slept with her and 100 such women!

-Harold, come down...

-And I did rape the poor.

I-I hate them. They'll never take me alive.

No, no, no!

Is this part of the act?

Can I have my money now?

Perfect.

-Poor thing.

-Thank you.

-No, I meant the patient.

-Oh, of course.

But you too.

I so hoped this could work.

There are so many others like him.

It was a bold experiment and if no-one dared try such things

those poor lunatics would have no hope.

I must thank you for your part in the drama.

You were most convincing.

Did you think so?

I have read a lot of French novels.

Have you?

Yes, it was curiously liberating to talk with the bold sensuality

of a French aristocrat.

I feel I could get quite carried away as the countess.

Indeed.

-Perhaps there are other guises I could assume.

-I'm sorry?

Gentlemen, welcome.

I'm afraid that today's intended speaker, Monsieur Dupont,

is otherwise engaged, having been urgently summoned

to the palace to perform surgery on the Queen's leopard.

However, we are most grateful to Dr King,

who makes a most esteemed deputy.

Gentlemen.

The power of prayer.

Whether a fever, for example, be caused by injury, bad air,

irregular bowels or violent emotion,

if we do not ask for the Lord's mercy,

all our work will have been in vain.

-Rather a waste of an afternoon, I should say.

-Mm.

-Some people are still living in the 18th century, it seems.

-Huh.

-DEEP VOICE:

-Worried for a moment I'd wandered into church by mistake.

HE CHUCKLES What befuddles me is how few of us

-see the folly of such old-fashioned ideas.

-Mm.

Not you, you're clearly thoroughly modern and vigorously youthful.

Walking out like that takes gumption. Dr George Combe.

William... Ahem. ..Patterson.

Call me Billy.

-Let me buy you a drink, Billy.

-I must get home.

-Nonsense.

I-I really can't, I...

The Westminster Medical Club. I am a member.

You shall be my guest, we shall find some intellectual company

-and your afternoon shall not be wasted.

-Right.

Thank you kindly. I'm here to see Lady Campbell.

To conclude, then, you will, no doubt,

have surmised that this is only the first of scores of discoveries

-that microscopy will make possible...

-Yes, thank you.

If I could show you the enlarged lymphatic tissue...

Mr Lessing?

I hope not interrupting.

Not at all, the doctor was just leaving.

Oh.

Shall we meet at another occasion? I can bring specimens. Perhaps...

I don't think so, Mr Hopkins. Good luck with your endeavours.

Quite.

Well...

Excuse me.

Do sit down.

Thank you ma'am.

Well, William couldn't speak highly enough, insisted I meet you.

I am very determined.

Then tell me, why should I be interested in a surgeon?

I am not merely a surgeon.

I'm a pioneer.

My patients are not only the ones on my table,

but the thousands, perhaps millions, of lives to be

saved in the future by any successful new procedure I devise.

I intend to make history.

Do you?

The saving of lives is the highest possible calling.

That is what separates the true man of medicine

from the quacks on the high street,

merely interested in charming money out of ladies' purses.

Is that not precisely what you're engaged in doing now?

No, not at all.

You disappoint me.

What I mean to say is...

..that I am man of experience,

whose interventions yield...

..precise results.

I need no potions, Lady Campbell...

to achieve my desired effect.

That's more like it, Mr Lessing.

Rosodent, my patented dental paste.

Arrests decay and completely remedies the mortifying defects

of foul mouth odours.

Look at that.

This is proven stuff, ladies and gentlemen.

Use this daily and you will keep your teeth for longer.

No, come back! Don't buy stuff from that charlatan.

..Even more beautiful than you already are.

Yes, come, come, take a look.

Mmm, don't look at me like that, Ben.

Thank you, Henry.

-Ah...?

-Oh, I'd like to keep mine on.

Oh, it'll be well looked after.

I never remove my hat.

You never remove your hat?

I'm afflicted with psoriasis.

Oh, you needn't worry, we're all doctors here.

No, my scalp is repellent.

As you wish.

Well, Billy, what'll it be?

The patient would be in the lithotomy position, of course.

Legs raised.

-I see.

-The incision made,

I must be careful to penetrate smoothly and swiftly.

Would it hurt...immensely?

Madam, it would.

The pain would be exquisite.

Do they scream?

I've never encountered a lady who hasn't cried out for the duration.

But you aren't put off?

Once I have begun...

..nothing can distract me from my purpose.

SHE GASPS

Well, I'm sure society would be far more willing

to believe in fairies, but they'll find them little help with cholera.

You are a find!

Oh, do you know Lady Campbell?

I was on rather friendly terms with her husband before the haemorrhage.

I'll introduce you.

No...

Sorry, Lady Campbell, may I interrupt?

Oh.

Good evening, Mr Combe.

May I introduce Mr Lessing?

How do you do?

And who is your companion?

A most promising young man I met at the Society of Apothecaries.

Is that so?

Please, join us.

Well, I wouldn't want to interrupt any business you're conducting.

No, I assure you, this is pleasure.

Oh, I see.

As long as the wife is at home.

Oh, I doubt she is. My wife has ideas.

I imagine she's getting herself into all kinds of trouble as we speak.

Mr Lessing, perhaps you could tell us about your latest case?

You'll find young Billy here a most intelligent student of medicine.

A forward-thinker, like yourself. I'm sure you'll get on wonderfully.

If you get to know me.

Gentlemen!

Gentlewomen!

Do you suffer from paleness, tiredness, nervous energy,

coughs, aches and pains, or coldness or hotness?

All such ailments derive, as we know,

from bad blood.

Fortunately, I have, after years of painstaking research,

perfected a medicine,

Sutton's Infallible Liniment, which restores energy, balance -

and your hair, if you're bald, sir.

Whatever you got, it cures the lot.

I, myself, used to be a tired, constipated cripple,

but just look at me now!

Ladies and gentlemen, after taking this for just one week,

I am full of vigour and vim and hair.

Come and get it today, while stocks last!

Thank you, sir. Yes, help yourself.

Yes, thank you, madam.

Yes, madam, here you go.

Thank you very much, madam.

Wait your turn, please! One at a time!

Thank you, sir. Thank you.

Will this cure Molly's tuberculosis?

Yes. Yes, it will.

COINS CLINK

Free pints for you. You're a gentleman.

Oh, dear.

-That for me?

-Oh, er...

COINS CLINK

Ohhh!

What's this potion, then?

Maybe I should take some myself?

All right, just not this one.

OK? This is the good stuff.

Well, that's one for me, then.

Have a good evening.

HE CHUCKLES AND WHISTLES

Mr Lessing here was boasting of his skills of penetration.

Ah, well...

I plan to have a full

practical demonstration before the night is through.

You're presuming he can wield his sword as well as his scalpel.

COMBE CACKLES

Cracking!

How would you know?

I don't.

-Shall we have another bottle?

-Oh, yes, I think so.

I shall need some analgesic, if I'm to bear the pain.

Will you excuse me for a moment? I have to answer the call of nature.

-Who is she?

-What on earth were you thinking?

Have you been rolling in the sheets with her?

Impersonating a man to gain access to medical societies!

You kissed her! Do you love her?

Don't be absurd! She's a lonely widow.

-I'm merely buttering her parsnips for her money.

-Do you love me?

-I'm sorry?

-You kissed her hand. You've barely touched me for years.

-Of course I do!

-Well, kiss me, then.

-Caroline!

-No, kiss me.

SHE GASPS

Saints in heaven!

I suggest you keep your hands off each other

before I call for the police.

And, Mr Lessing, you can forget about my patronage, you...

unholy Uranian!

I know a place we can go.