“Shakespeare’s Bedside, or his Doctors enumerated.”
Old Shakespeare was sick;—for a doctor he sent;—
But ’twas long before any one came:
Yet at length his assistance Nic Rowe did present,
Sure all men have heard of his name.
As he found that the Poet had tumbled his bed,
He smooth’d it as well as he could;
He gave him an anodyne, comb’d out his head,
But did his complaint little good.
Doctor Pope to incision at once did proceed,