CHAPTER III

When the cataplasm was ready, a scruple of _decorum_ had unseasonably rose up in _Susannah’s_ conscience about holding the candle, whilst _Slop_ tied it on; _Slop_ had not treated _Susannah’s_ distemper with anodynes, --and so a quarrel had ensued betwixt them.

----Oh! oh! ----said _Slop_, casting a glance of undue freedom in _Susannah’s_ face, as she declined the office; ----then, I think I know you, madam ----You know me, Sir! cried _Susannah_ fastidiously, and with a toss of her head, levelled evidently, not at his profession, but at the doctor himself, ----you know me! cried _Susannah_ again. ----Doctor _Slop_ clapped his finger and his thumb instantly upon his nostrils; ----_Susannah’s_ spleen was ready to burst at it; ----’Tis false, said _Susannah_. --Come, come, Mrs. Modesty, said _Slop_, not a little elated with the success of his last thrust, ----If you won’t hold the candle, and look--you may hold it and shut your eyes: --That’s one of your popish shifts, cried _Susannah_: --’Tis better, said _Slop_, with a nod, than no shift at all, young woman; ----I defy you, Sir, cried _Susannah_, pulling her shift sleeve below her elbow.

It was almost impossible for two persons to assist each other in a surgical case with a more splenetic cordiality.

_Slop_ snatched up the cataplasm, ----_Susannah_ snatched up the candle; ----a little this way, said _Slop_; _Susannah_ looking one way, and rowing another, instantly set fire to _Slop’s_ wig, which being somewhat bushy and unctuous withal, was burnt out before it was well kindled. ------You impudent whore! cried _Slop_, --(for what is passion, but a wild beast?)--you impudent whore, cried _Slop_, getting upright, with the cataplasm in his hand; ----I never was the destruction of anybody’s nose, said _Susannah_, --which is more than you can say: ----Is it? cried _Slop_, throwing the cataplasm in her face; ----Yes, it is, cried _Susannah_, returning the compliment with what was left in the pan.

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