Worn. No, no, madam, the poor man's inclinable enough to lie still. [Exit.
Lady Boun. Well, daughter Sullen, though you laugh, I have done miracles about the country here with my receipts. [69]
Mrs. Sul. Miracles indeed, if they have cured anybody; but I believe, madam, the patient's faith goes. farther toward the miracle than your prescription.
Lady Boun. Fancy helps in some cases; but there's your husband, who has as little fancy as anybody, I brought him from death's door.
Mrs. Sul. I suppose, madam, you made him drink plentifully of ass's milk.
Enter Dorinda, who runs to Mrs. Sullen.
Dor. News, dear sister! news! news!
Enter Archer, running.
Arch. Where, where is my Lady Bountiful?—Pray, which is the old lady of you three? [80]
Lady Boun. I am.