‘Whatever you have the conscience to ask,’ replied the host, panting to be rid of the monstrosity.
‘Four thousand scudi apiece,’ replied the false doctor; and the host, his wife, and his buxom daughter stood in a row waiting to be cured. With the same remedy that had cured the peasant girl he cured the host first, and next his daughter. After he had cured her he said, ‘Instead of the second premium of four thousand scudi, I will take the hand of your daughter, if you like?’
‘Yes, if you wish; it’s a very good idea,’ replied the host.
‘Never, while I live!’ said the wife.
‘Why not? He’s a very good husband!’ said the host.
‘An ugly old travelling doctor, who comes no one knows whence, to marry my daughter indeed!’ said the wife.
‘I’m sure we’re under great obligations to his cleverness,’ said the husband.
‘Then let him be paid his price, and go about his business, and not talk impudence!’ said the wife.
‘But I choose that he shall marry her!’ said the husband.
‘And I choose that he shan’t,’ said the wife; ‘and you’ll find that much stronger.’