 | The Successfull Straingers |  |
Scene discovers Guzman in a Chair. A Chirurgeon by him, and a Table with Gally-Pots, Urine Violis, &c.
Guz.
Chirurg.
A week, if you keep a good Dyet, will set you
Right again.
Guz.
Why there he is, a good Dyet, that is, eat nothing.
Suppose I keep an ill Dyet, and eat, will a
Fortnight cure me?
Chirurg.
Guz.
Nay, for ought thou know'st, I may dye to night
Of a Quinzey.
Chirurg.
Why, so you may Sir.
Guz.
Yes, I thought so; Suppose
I have a mind to let blood:
Chirurg.
You have lost enough already one would think,
I see no occasion for that.
Guz.
Ay! but there may be for ought thou knowst:
What a wretch am I order'd to look after me?
Because I am a Servant I must have no other
To take care of me; my Master has the head of
The Doctors and Chyrurgeons, and I must be
Manag'd by their Glister-Carrier.
Chirurg.
You are dispos'd to be merry, Sir.
Guz.
Very well, because I don't like this Rascall,
I am dispos'd to be merry; hark ye you
Serringe-Bobber,—dispose me to be merry you
Had best, or I'le depose you from your Quack-
Salving—I would drink a Glass of Sack.
Chirurg.
Guz.
Ay, for ought thou knowst—why you Dog,
Suppose I have a mind to a wench.
Chirurg.
A wench!
Guz.
Ay a Wench, oh 'tis a kind Decoction, meetand
Proper for the Body of a man, operating
Simpathetically towards the healing of the Inwards.
Surg.
A Woman will kill you Sir.
Guz.
Surg.
Why, Nature is so Exhausted, it would not supply
You if you had really a desire for one,
Your Spirits are wasted.
Guz.
Why you dog, d'ye take me for a boys
Pot-Gun, without any pith in my back.
Enter Servant.
Ser.
Here's a Young woman would speak
with Guzman.
Guz.
A young Woman, bring her in.
Surg.
If she be a young woman keep her out.
Guz.
Hark you Diaculum-Dauber, let her come in.
Sur.
She shall not come in.
Guz.
Shan't she, Urinall-peeper.
Sur.
No.
Guz.
Sirrah, bring her up:
Sur.
Sirrah, keep her down.
Guz.
Bring her up, or I'le Murder thee.
Sur.
Bring her up, and I'le poison thee.
Guz.
I will bomb thee with thy own Gally-
Pots then.
Sur.
What mean you?
Guz.
To try Experiments upon
You with your own Slops and Salves;—
There's a Bowlus for you, there's a Potion,
There's a Glyster, there's a Julip,
There's an Oyntment.
[Flings Pots and Viols at him runs.
Sur.
Help, Murder.
Guz.
Take 3 Spoonfulls fasting of this, and sweat after this;
And sleep after this; hang your self at the last, and
Be dam'd after all.
Exit after the Chirurgeon.
Guz.
Well Sir, and how long must I endure your probings
and your Cullices?
Chirurg.
A week, if you keep a good Dyet, will set you
Right again.
Guz.
Why there he is, a good Dyet, that is, eat nothing.
Suppose I keep an ill Dyet, and eat, will a
Fortnight cure me?
Chirurg.
A fortnight! by'r Lady, it may cost you your Life
for ought I know.
Guz.
Nay, for ought thou know'st, I may dye to night
Of a Quinzey.
47
Why, so you may Sir.
Guz.
Yes, I thought so; Suppose
I have a mind to let blood:
Chirurg.
You have lost enough already one would think,
I see no occasion for that.
Guz.
Ay! but there may be for ought thou knowst:
What a wretch am I order'd to look after me?
Because I am a Servant I must have no other
To take care of me; my Master has the head of
The Doctors and Chyrurgeons, and I must be
Manag'd by their Glister-Carrier.
Chirurg.
You are dispos'd to be merry, Sir.
Guz.
Very well, because I don't like this Rascall,
I am dispos'd to be merry; hark ye you
Serringe-Bobber,—dispose me to be merry you
Had best, or I'le depose you from your Quack-
Salving—I would drink a Glass of Sack.
Chirurg.
You may do what you please, but it may do
you harm.
Guz.
Ay, for ought thou knowst—why you Dog,
Suppose I have a mind to a wench.
Chirurg.
A wench!
Guz.
Ay a Wench, oh 'tis a kind Decoction, meetand
Proper for the Body of a man, operating
Simpathetically towards the healing of the Inwards.
Surg.
A Woman will kill you Sir.
Guz.
I don't mean to work so hard Sir, to debauch once
a Month is a Cordial they say.
Surg.
Why, Nature is so Exhausted, it would not supply
You if you had really a desire for one,
Your Spirits are wasted.
Guz.
Why you dog, d'ye take me for a boys
Pot-Gun, without any pith in my back.
Enter Servant.
Ser.
Here's a Young woman would speak
with Guzman.
Guz.
A young Woman, bring her in.
Surg.
If she be a young woman keep her out.
Guz.
Hark you Diaculum-Dauber, let her come in.
Sur.
She shall not come in.
Guz.
Shan't she, Urinall-peeper.
Sur.
No.
48
Sirrah, bring her up:
Sur.
Sirrah, keep her down.
Guz.
Bring her up, or I'le Murder thee.
Sur.
Bring her up, and I'le poison thee.
Guz.
I will bomb thee with thy own Gally-
Pots then.
Sur.
What mean you?
Guz.
To try Experiments upon
You with your own Slops and Salves;—
There's a Bowlus for you, there's a Potion,
There's a Glyster, there's a Julip,
There's an Oyntment.
[Flings Pots and Viols at him runs.
Sur.
Help, Murder.
Guz.
Take 3 Spoonfulls fasting of this, and sweat after this;
And sleep after this; hang your self at the last, and
Be dam'd after all.
Exit after the Chirurgeon.
| The Successfull Straingers | |