The great Master of medicine, Æsculapius, preserve and prolong the sanity of these Royal and Princely Spectators. And if any here present happen to be valetudinary, the blessed finger of our grand Master Paracelsus be at hand for their speedy reparation. I have heard of a mad fellow that styles himself a merry Greek, and goes abroad by the name of Paradox, who with frisking and dancing, and new broached doctrine, hath stolen himself, this Festival time of Christmas, into favour at the Court of Purple, and having there got some approbation for his small performance, is grown so audacious as to intrude himself into this honoured presence. To prevent whose further growing fame, I have, with these my fellow Artists of several nations, all famous for the bank, hither made repair, to present unto your view more wholesome,
more pleasing, and more novel delights, which, to avoid prolixity, I distribute into these following commonplaces.
Names of Diseases cured by us,
Which being infinite, purposely we omit.
Musical Charms,
Familiar Receipts,
Sing their Songs, viz.:
Chorus. What is’t you lack, what would you buy?
What is it that you need?
Come to me, Gallants; taste and try:
Here’s that will do the deed.
1 Song.
1. Here’s water to quench maiden fires;
Here’s spirits for old occupiers;
Here’s powder to preserve youth long,
Here’s oil to make weak sinews strong.
What!
2. This powder doth preserve from fate;
This cures the Maleficiate:
Lost Maidenhead this doth restore,
And makes them Virgins as before.
What!
3. Here’s cure for toothache, fever-lurdens,[623]
Unlawful and untimely burdens:
Diseases of all Sex and Ages
This Medicine cures, or else assuages.
What!
4. I have receipts to cure the gout,
To keep pox in, or thrust them out;
To cool hot bloods, cold bloods to warm,
Shall do you, if no good, no harm.
What!
2 Song.
1. Is any deaf? Is any blind?
Is any bound, or loose behind?
Is any foul, that would be fair?
Would any Lady change her hair?
Does any dream? Does any walk,
Or in his sleep affrighted talk?
I come to cure what ere you feel,
Within, without, from head to heel.
2. Be drums or rattles in thy head;
Are not thy brains well tempered?
Does Eolus thy stomach gnaw,
Or breed there vermin in thy maw?
Dost thou desire, and cannot please,
Lo! here the best Cantharides.
I come.
3. Even all diseases that arise
From ill disposed crudities,
From too much study, too much pain,
From laziness, or from a strain,