I bear an affliction of little renown to those who scour the body for illness, [says Alois, and his total pomposity means he's laying it on as thick as he can. He's been awfully quiet lately, appearing as little as possible, and never at his best when he does show up. But he's himself enough, at least, to immediately be a total pain in the ass.

Anyway:]

An affliction of the heart, you see. And I fear my livelihood will never wake from its— [The barest of pauses. He's trying to think of the best verbal pretense.] And I fear my livelihood will never rise from the dark of its terrible maw.

[Well, he may have been reading lately, at least.]

So maybe I can't come, sorry.