in myself.

[_Exit with Archer_.

_Dor_. O sister, my heart flutters about strangely! I can
hardly forbear running to his assistance. {107}

_Mrs. Sul_. And I 'll lay my life he deserves your
assistance more than he wants it. Did not I tell you that
my lord would find a way to come at you? Love's
his distemper, and you must be the physician; put
on all your charms, summon all your fire into your
eyes, plant the whole artillery of your looks against
his breast, and down with him.

_Dor_. O sister! I 'm but a young gunner; I shall be afraid
to shoot, for fear the piece should recoil, and hurt
myself.

_Mrs. Sul_. Never fear, you shall see me shoot before you,
if you will. {119}

_Dor_. No, no, dear sister; you have missed your mark so
unfortunately, that I shan't care for being instructed
by you.

_Enter Aimwell in a chair carried by Archer and Scrubs
and counterfeiting a swoon; Lady Bountiful and
Gipsy following_.

_Lady Boun_. Here, here, let's see the hartshorn drops.--
Gipsy, a glass of fair water! His fit's very strong.
--Bless me, how his hands are clinched!

_Arch_. For shame, ladies, what d' ye do? why don't you
help us?--[_To Dorinda_.] Pray, madam, take his
hand, and open it, if you can, whilst I hold his head.

[_Dorinda takes his hand_.

_Dor_. Poor gentleman!--Oh!--he has got my hand
within his, and squeezes it unmercifully-- {130}

_Lady Boun_. 'Tis the violence of his convulsion, child.

_Arch_. Oh, madam, he's perfectly possessed in these
cases--he'll bite if you don't have a care.

_Dor_. Oh, my hand! my hand!

_Lady Boun_. What's the matter with the foolish girl? I
have got his hand open, you see, with a great deal of
ease.

_Arch_. Ay, but, madam, your daughter's hand is somewhat
warmer than your ladyship's, and the heat of
it draws the force of the spirits that way. {140}

_Mrs. Sul_. I find, friend, you're very learned in these
sorts of fits.

_Arch_. Tis no wonder, madam, for I 'm often troubled
with them myself; I find myself extremely ill at this
minute. [_Looking hard at Mrs. Sullen_.

_Mrs. Sul_. I fancy I could find a way to cure you.

[_Aside_.

_Lady Boun_. His fit holds him very long.

_Arch_. Longer than usual, madam.--Pray, young lady,
open his breast and give him air.

_Lady Boun_. Where did his illness take him first, pray?

_Arch_. To-day at church, m