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.