2nd Doctor. The same, my lord.
St. J. Whom has he slain?
2nd Doctor. His friend.
St. J. Is Tristram dead?
Sir T. I lie here dying, Gervase.—
Ah! Ah! Why torture me! I cannot live.
1st Doctor. It is the order of our art——
Sir T. Desist!
Desist, I say, at once; and damn your art.—
Pardon me, Doctor: I never could endure
A scratch with patience: let me die at ease.
1st Doctor. I might preserve your life a little while.
Sir T. How long?—Reply!
1st Doctor. I cannot say.