We are quacked into distraction by unchastened power of Jaw,
Assisted by Advertisement and unrestrained by Law.
Dulcamara up to date is no longer poor or petty,
The pompous, brainless charlatan pictured by Donizetti,
He outshines, out-talks, out-thumps, out-cheats, out-swaggers, and out-dresses,
With his nauseous, noxious nostrums, and his nasty, mucky messes.
Quack! Quack! Quack! He may quack the donkeys dead,
Their coin out of their purses and their eyes out of their head,
Their brains into sheer softening, their bodies to the grave,
But he flourishes unpunished. Is there nothing then to save