1 Phy. I say 'tis dangerous;
The Person being spent so much before-hand,
And Nature drawn so low, Clysters, cool Clysters.
2 Phy. Now with your favours I should think a Vomit:
For take away the Cause, the Effect must follow,
The Stomach's foul and fur'd, the pot's unflam'd yet.
3 Phy. No, no, we'll rectifie that part by mild means,
Nature so sunk must find no violence.
Enter a Servant.
Serv. Will't please ye draw near? the weak Gentleman
Grows worse and worse still.
1 Phy. Come, we will attend him.
2 Phy. He shall do well, my friend.
Serv. My Masters love, Sir.
1. Excellent well I warrant thee, right and straight, friend.