Second Doctor—It is a pleasure to hear our lordship jest. But to come back to the story again, that same person went all over town and asked people if they had found his head, which he had lost, but he got well again and is at this day sexton in Jutland.
Jeppe—He might be that, even if he had not found his wits again.
(All laugh: Ha, ha, ha.)
First Doctor—Does my colleague remember the story of what happened ten years since to the man who imagined that his head was full of flies? He could not get rid of the notion no matter how much one argued with him, until a shrewd doctor cured him in this wise: He laid a plaster covered with dead flies on his head, and after some time he pulled it off, showed it to the patient, made him believe that they had been extracted from his head, whereupon the patient became well again.
Second Doctor—There are innumerable examples of such illusions. I remember also of having heard of one who made himself believe that his nose was ten feet long and warned everyone whom he met not to come too near to him.
First Doctor—That is what is the matter with our gracious lord. He imagines that he is a poor peasant. But he must get rid of such thoughts, then he will soon become well again.
Jeppe—But can it be possible that it is only imagination?
First Doctor—Certainly! Your lordship has heard from these stories what imagination can do.
Jeppe—Am I not then Jeppe on the Hill?
Second Doctor—No, certainly not.