If laughter is the best medicine, Monsieur Argan, eternal hypochondriac and miser, might try looking in the mirror to cure himself. But then we would be deprived of his plaintive whining as he catalogues imagined maladies. We'd miss his doctors' hackneyed and costly prescriptions, and Argan's hatching of a plan to receive free medical care that involves a marriage contract for his daughter. The Players' Ring is this tale of woe as "Rhubarb and Rose Honey"-an adaptation of Moli?re's "Le Malade Imaginaire," by F. Gary Newton, the theater's late founder-and it's so much fun to take the cure.

When the play opens, the bourgeois Argan is lamenting a pile of doctor's bills. He calls his maid 'Toinette to remove them from his sight. A cynical, feisty interventionist, she lampoons her master's imaginary health problems and miserly ways. She also sympathizes with his overprotected daughter, Angelique, who has recently fallen head over heels in love. Soon Argan announces he has entered into a contract for Angelique to marry a young man who happens to be a doctor. Beline, Argan's conniving wife, has plans of her own. She's hoping that Argan will send her two stepdaughters to a convent, giving her a clear shot at all of Argan's assets. Enter the young men, competing for Angelique, and the farce takes off.

Mike Pomp as Argan is immediately delightful. He is oblivious to all but himself. Life's pressures, both real and imagined, are so physically excruciating that I felt relief every time he overcame his imagined pain. Appearing as 'Toinette is Constance Whitman. Her play to the audience, threading through the tapestry of characters and subplots, is luscious. Dinah Schultze as the love-struck daughter and Tana Sirois as her sycophantic sibling are engaging and comical. Marie Fitzgerald, the conniving stepmother, offers a saccharine delivery undercut by shifting eyes worthy of a jackal. Jeff Bernhart as Cleante, Angelique's lover, injects energy that picks up the tempo when he's onstage. Chip Moon and Todd Hunter give solid performances as the Doctors Diafoirus and several other characters.

"Commedia dell'arte" is a slapstick form of improvisational theater, a vicious satire about themes and people of the day that was popular in 17th-century Paris and served to inspire Moli?re's comedies. Its roots go back to Roman comedy where lazy but meddling slaves created comedic havoc, exposing the foibles of aristocratic households. The French form, adapted from Italy, became popular because it was both visually and verbally irreverent. No person or institution was safe from attack. Eventually the French government literally silenced the performances, resulting in the development of pantomime.

Director Tim Robinson has freed the cast from the conventions of modern stage in order to perform "commedia dell'arte." His set is simple, accented by Gina Brown's lighting. Barbara Newton's costumes are comically garish. The use of white-face is effective though several actors could have been a little more generous with the clown white. Robinson and company give an ancient form of theater an injection of contemporary humor, with enough laughs to guarantee that the patient will live for a long time.

"Rhubarb and Rose Honey" is playing Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 7 p.m. through Jan. 30. Tickets are $10 for adults and $8 for seniors and students. Call 603-436-8123 for reservations and information.