The Confidence-Man Chapter 17 Summary

Towards the End of Which the Herb-Doctor Proves Himself a Forgiver of Injuries

  • More people have boarded the ship. This crop of new blood is sitting in a room, kind of shy, and very quiet. We see the herb-doctor hawking another concoction. This time it's the Samaritan Pain Dissuader—good for whatever pains you—mind, body, and soul.
  • The crowd just stares at the herb-doctor. They all seem healthy.
  • The herb-doctor tries again in an appeal to the women, asking if they have any sick, bedridden friends at home who would appreciate this as a gift.
  • Cricket cricket.
  • Undeterred by the crowd's apathy, the herb-doctor continues with another tack: You're fine now, but you may have a sudden, terrible pain by noon.
  • No response.
  • Just then, another new passenger boards the ship and enters the room. We're talking chillingly dramatic entrance here, folks. Imagine the tough, quiet, tall, dark outlaw type walking up to a saloon. He's s man of mystery. He's got a limp and a little girl with bright, dark eyes as deep as eternity. They're no nonsense.
  • The herb-doctor goes to these new passengers and makes the number-one wrong move when talking to kids: he acts like a cheery doofus. He takes the girl's hand (way to invade her personal space, brah), sings at her, and tries to get her to sing with him. She gives him a blank stare. Her dad offers him a look of scorn.
  • The herb-doctor does the "Don't I know you from the Kentucky ship?" thing. The man says no. The herb-doctor suggests his Samaritan Pain Dissuader as a cure for the guy's limp. The man says no. He goes to sit down with difficulty.
  • Another dude arrives—much less dramatically this time. He's not from the shore like this crowd, but from another part of the boat. He buys a bottle of Samaritan Pain Dissuader.
  • This seems to signal a go for the others gathered there, and some others buy a few bottles.
  • From his seat, the father asks the herb-doctor to repeat what he just said to the crowd. Gladly: This stuff will ease pain in ten minutes.
  • Father: Does it make you drowsy or numb?
  • Herb-doctor: Nah, you retain your brain game.
  • Father: Lies. You're a lying liar who lies.
  • The crowd is silent again. Those who have bought some of the meds already feel sheepish.
  • The herb-doctor shakes it off and launches into a story about how this concoction will cure mental and emotional pain in addition to physical suffering. He purports to have cured a woman in agony over the death of her husband and child.
  • The father can't stand it any longer. He blows up at the herb-doctor, calls him a snake, and leaves the room.
  • The herb-doctor pauses and narrates his internal monologue for the audience: he's hurt, no doubt, but he's not going to lower himself to be as wrathful as that man. Instead, he hopes that the audience will see this behavior and have confidence in him.
  • The herb-doctor gets only cold stares from the audience.
  • In a weirdly Shakespearean exit, the herb-doctor responds to a voice only he hears calling him.