DOCTOR. In three or four years.
GEORGE. What, three or four years? Not before?
DOCTOR. Not before.
GEORGE. Why? Am I going to be ill all that time? You said just now—
DOCTOR. The disease will no longer be dangerous to you yourself, but you will be dangerous to others.
GEORGE. But, doctor, I am going to be married in a month!
DOCTOR. Impossible.
GEORGE. I can’t help it. The contract is all ready; the banns have been published. I have given my word.
DOCTOR. Here’s a pretty patient! A moment ago you were feeling for your pistol: now you want to be married in a month!
GEORGE. But I must!