e occasion of his Death; but
the occasional Cause of his Death.
[Sir _Pat._ reads the Bill.

Sir _Pat._ Why, here's no time allow'd for eating, Gentlemen.

_Amst._ Sir, we'll justify this Prescription to the whole College.

_Leyd._ If he will not follow it, let him die.

_All._ Ay, let him die.

Enter _Lodwick_ and _Leander_.

_Lod._ What, have you consulted without me, Gentlemen?
[_Lod._ reads the Bill.

Sir _Pat._ Yes, Sir, and find it absolutely necessary for my Health,
Sir, I shou'd be starv'd: and yet you say I am not sick, Sir.
[To _Lean._

_Lod._ Very well, very well.

Sir _Pat._ No Breakfast, no Dinner, no Supper?

Sir _Cred._ Little or none, but none's best.

Sir _Pat._ But, Gentlemen, consider, no small thing?

_All._ Nothing, nothing.

Sir _Cred._ Sir, you must write for your Fee. [To _Lod._

_Lod._ Now I think on't, Sir, you may eat [Writes.
a roasted Pippin cold upon a Vine-leaf, at night.

_Lean._ Do you see, Sir, what damn'd canting Rascals these Doctors are?

Sir _Pat._ Ay, ay, if all Doctors were such, ingenuously, I shou'd soon
be weary of Physick.

_Lean._ Give 'em their Fees, Sir, and send 'em to the Devil for a
Company of Cheats.

Sir _Pat._ Truth is, there is no faith in 'em,--well, I thank you for
your Care and Pains.
[Gives 'em Fees.

Sir _Cred._ Sir, if you have any occasion for me, I live at the
red-colour'd Lanthorn, with eleven Candles in't, in the _Strand_; where
you may come in privately, and need not be ashamed, I having no Creature
in my House but my self, and my whole Family.--

_Ick quam Van Neder Landt te spreken
End helpen Van Pocken end ander gebreken._

That's a top of my Bill, sweet Sir.

[Exeunt Doctors.

_Fan._ Lord, Sir Father, why do you give 'em Money?

_Lean._ For talking Nonsense this Hour or two upon his Distemper.

_Fan._ Oh lemini, Sir, they did not talk one word of you, but of Dogs
and Horses, and of killing Folks, and of their Wives and Daughters; and
when the Wine was all out, they said they wou'd say something for their
Fees.

Sir _Pat._ Say you so!--Knaves, Rogues, Cheats, Murderers! I'll be
reveng'd on 'em all,--I'll ne'er be sick again,--or if I be, I'll die
honestly of my self without the assistance of such Rascals,--go, get you
gone.--
[To _Fan._ who goes out.

_Lean._ A happy resolution! wou'd you wou'd be so kind to your self as
to make a trial of your Lady too; and if she prove true