The Sick may have Advice for Nothing,
And good Medicines cheap, if so they please
For to cure any curable Disease.
It’s Saffold’s Pills, much better than the Rest,
Deservedly have gained the Name of best
In curing by the Cause, quite purging out
Of Scurvy, Dropsie, Agues, Stone and Gout.
The Head, Stomach, Belly and the Reins, they
Will cleanse and cure, while you may work or play.
His Pills have often, to their Maker’s Praise,
Cur’d in all Weathers, yea, in the Dog-Days.
In short, no purging Med’cine is made, can
Cure more Diseases in Man or Woman,
Than his cheap Pills, but three Shillings the Box.
Each Box contains Thirty-six Pills I’m sure.
As good as e’er were made Scurvy to cure.
The half Box eighteen Pills, for eighteen Pence,
Tho’ ’t is too cheap, in any Man’s own Sense.
At the foot of the bill, after a lot of puffery, he breaks out into rhyme once more:—
Some envious Men being griev’d may say,
What needs Bills thus still be given away?
Answer: New People come to London every Day.
Believing Solomon’s Advice is right,
I will do what I do with all my might.
Also, unless an English Proverb lies
Practice brings Experience and makes wise.
Experimental Knowledge, I protest,
In lawful Arts and Science is the best,
Instead of Finis Saffold ends with Rest.
Another of his bills, which were various and plentiful, began thus:—
Dear Friends, let your Disease be what God will,
Pray to Him for a Cure, try Saffold’s Skill;
Who may be such a healing Instrument,
As will cure you to your own Heart’s Content.
His Medicines are cheap and truly good.
Being full as safe as your daily Food—
Saffold he can do what may be done, by
Either Physick or true Astrology.
His best Pills, rare Elixir and Powder,
Do each Day praise him louder and louder.
Dear Countrymen, I pray be you so wise
When Men backbite him, believe not their Lies,
But go, see him, and believe your own Eyes.
Then he will say you are honest and kind.
Try before you judge and speak as you find.
At another time the muse informs us, among other things in connection with the great Saffold, that
He knows some who are Knaves in Grain,
And have more Gall and Spleen than Brain,
Will ill reward his Skill and Pain.
He hath practised Astrology above 15 Years, and hath License to practise Physick, and he thanks God for it, hath great Experience and wonderful Success in both those Arts, giving to doubtful People and by God’s Blessing, cureth the Sick of any Age or Sex or Distemper though given over by Others, and never so bad (if curable); therefore let none despair of a Cure, but try him.
Yet some conceited Fools will ask how he came to be able to do such great Cures, and to foretell such strange Things, and to know how to make such rare and powerful Medicines, as his best Pills, Elixir and Diet Drinks are, and wherefore he doth publish the same in Print? But he will answer such dark Animals thus:
It hath so pleased God, the King of Heaven,
Being He to him hath Knowledge given,
And in him there can be no greater Sin,
Than to hide his Talent in a Napkin.
His Candle is Light and he will not under
A Bushel put it, let the World wonder:
Though he be traduced by such like Tools,
As have Knaves’ Hearts, Lackbrains are Fools.