Plot. Right, Sir. De distillation be made from the Hippomanes of a young mare. When a deflower'd virgin take ten drops, she will faint and sneeze, and de large red spot appear on the cheek; which we call de spot of infamy. All de young bridegroom make de experiment. De archbishop did make obligation to de nun to take it every ninth month. And I fly for the hurlyburly it make.
Enter Hugh.
Hugh. Sir here is a patient in a chair.
Foss. Doctor Lubomirski, let me conduct you into my study, where we will farther discuss the wonderful virtues of this liquor. Tell the patient I will attend him this instant.
[Exeunt Plotwell and Fossile.
Enter Underplot [in a chair like a sick man].
Hugh. The doctor will wait upon you immediately.
[Exit Hugh.
Underp. I dogg'd Plotwell to this door in a doctor's habit. If he has admittance as a doctor, why not I as a patient? Now for a lucky decision of our wager! If I can't succeed myself, I will at least spoil his intrigue.
Enter Fossile.
Underp. Ah! ah! have you no place? Ah! where can I repose a little? I was taken suddenly. Ah! ah! 'tis happy I was so near the house of an eminent physician.
Foss. Rest yourself upon that couch.