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Act I., Sc. I.

How long is’t, count, Since the physician at your father’s died? If he were living, I would try him yet;— * * * * * the rest have worn me out With several applications: nature and sickness Debate it at their leisure. Act I., Sc. II.

My father’s skill, which was the greatest of his profession. Act I., Sc. III.

Another worthy physician is to be found in Cymbeline. Cornelius argues with the queen against her designs, and failing in this he completely thwarts her murderous intentions by giving her a false compound.

Queen. Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs?

Cor. * * * I beseech your grace, without offence, My conscience bids me ask,—wherefore you have Commanded of me these most poisonous compounds, Which are the movers of a languishing death; But though slow, deadly?

Your highness Shall from this practice but make hard your heart: Besides, the seeing these effects will be Both noisome and infectious.

[Aside.] I do suspect you, madame; But you shall do no harm. * * * I do not like her. She doth think she has Strange ling’ring poisons: I do know her spirit, And will not trust one of her malice with A drug of such damn’d nature. Those she has Will stupify and dull the sense awhile; * * * * * * but there is No danger in what show of death it makes, More than the locking up the spirits a time, To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool’d With a most false effect; and I the truer So to be false with her. Act I., Sc. V.