Morillar. Ah, but to lick the glasses!
But this is nothing, compared with the next scene, when the ship’s surgeon enters.
Franville. Here comes the surgeon. What
Hast thou discovered? Smile, smile, and comfort us.
Surgeon. I am expiring,
Smile they that can. I can find nothing, gentlemen,
Here’s nothing can be meat without a miracle.
Oh, that I had my boxes and my lints now,
My stupes, my tents, and those sweet helps of nature!
What dainty dishes could I make of them!