WHY JESUS WEPT 
63 
Get a doctor to give you a prescription like this — they 
ask a hundred francs — oh !  it is a shame ! Buy a little 
syringe ; and that is Heaven for all your life. — How do 
you feel ? 
 
SIR PERCY. 
 
Why, I am well at once.  I never felt better in my life.  
The devil take my trouble now !  I shall go out and conquer 
the whole world.  I shall be the great magician, the Lord of 
the Stars.  I have it in me to write poetry.  Yes, that, first.  
(Goes to table and takes pen and paper.)  In praise of — what is your 
medicine called, dear Marchioness ? 
 
LADY GLENSTRAE. 
 
Who calls me ?  What is it ?  Leave me alone ! 
 
SIR PERCY. 
 
Tell me, dear Lady — Maud ! 
 
LADY GLENSTRAE. 
 
Ah !  you are the boy. 
 
SIR PERCY. 
 
Your boy, queen ! 
 
LADY GLENSTRAE. 
 
Oh, yes, my boy. 
 
SIR PERCY. 
 
What is this medicine called ?