Mrs. Bri. Oh! oh! alas, doctor!

Just. Peace, Bridget!—Why, doctor, my dear old friend, do you really see any change in me?

Rosy. Change! never was man so altered: how came these black spots on your nose?

Just. Spots on my nose!

Rosy. And that wild stare in your right eye!

Just. In my right eye?

Rosy. Ay, and, alack, alack, how you are swelled!

Just. Swelled!

Rosy. Ay, don’t you think he is, madam?

Mrs. Bri. Oh! ’tis in vain to conceal it!—Indeed, lovee, you are as big again as you were this morning.

Just. Yes, I feel it now—I’m poisoned!—Doctor, help me, for the love of justice! Give me life to see my murderer hanged.

Rosy. What?

Just. I’m poisoned, I say!

Rosy. Speak out!

Just. What! can’t you hear me?

Rosy. Your voice is so low and hollow, as it were, I can’t hear a word you say.

Just. I’m gone then!—Hic jacet, many years one of his majesty’s justices!

Mrs. Bri. Read, doctor!—Ah, lovee, the will!—Consider, my life, how soon you will be dead.

Just. No, Bridget, I shall die by inches.

Rosy. I never heard such monstrous iniquity.—Oh, you are gone indeed, my friend! the mortgage of your little bit of clay is out, and the sexton has nothing to do but to close. We must all go, sooner or later—high and low—Death’s a debt; his mandamus binds all alike—no bail, no demurrer.

Just. Silence, Dr. Croaker! will you cure me or will you not?

Rosy. Alas! my dear friend, it is not in my power; but I’ll certainly see justice done on your murderer.

Just. I thank you, my dear friend, but I had rather see it myself.

Rosy. Ay, but if you recover, the villain will escape.

Mrs. Bri. Will he? then indeed it would be a pity you should recover. I am so enraged against the villain, I can’t bear the thought of his escaping the halter.

Just. That’s very kind in you, my dear; but if it’s the same thing to you, my dear, I had as soon recover, notwithstanding.—What, doctor, no assistance!