The
Well-Approved DOCTOR
OR,
An Infallible Cure for CUCKOLDS.
It did appear from far and near,
they travel'd not in vain,
For they were sure to have their Cure,
when they to London came .
To the Tune of, The Two English Travellers .
This may be Printed, R. P.
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T Here is a fine Doctor now new come to Town,
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Whose practice in physick had gain'd him renown,
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In curing of Cuckolds he had the best skill,
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By giving one Dose of his approved Pill.
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His skill is well known, and his practice is great,
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Then come to the Doctor before 'tis too late;
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His Med'cines are safe, and the Doctor is sure,
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He takes none in hand but he perfects a Cure.
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The Doctor himself he doth freely unfold,
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That he can cure Cuckolds though never so old;
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He helps this Distemper in all sorts of men,
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At forty, and fifty, yea threescore and ten.
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There was an old Man lived near to the Strand ,
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Decreped and Feeble, scarce able to stand;
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Who had been a Cuckold full forty long years,
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But hearing of this, how he prickt up his ears.
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Away to the Doctor he went with all speed,
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Where he struck a Bargain, they soon were agree'd:
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He cured his Forehead that nothing is seen,
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And now he's as brisk as a Youth of Fifteen.
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Now this being known, how his fame it did ring,
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And unto the Doctor much trading did bring;
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They come to the Doctor out of e'ry Shire,
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From all parts and places, yea both far and near.
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Both Dutchmen and Scotchmen to London did ride,
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With Shonny a Morgan and thousands beside;
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Thus all sorts and sizes both Rich men and poor,
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They came in whole Cart-loads to this Doctors door.
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Some whining, some weeping, some careful and sad,
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And some was contented, and others Horn-mad;
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Some crooked some straightHorns, & some overgrown
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The like in all Ages I think was ne'r known.
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Some rich and brave flourishing Cuckolds was there
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That come in whole Droves Sir, as is to Horn-Fair:
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For now there is hopes to be cur'd of their grief,
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The Doctor declares in the fall of the Leaf.
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Let none be so foolish as now to neglect
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This Doctors great kindness and civil respect:
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Though Rich men may pay, yet the poor shall go free,
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So kind and so careful a Doctor is he.
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'Tis known he so worthy a Conscience doth make,
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Poor Cuckolds he'l Cure them for Charity sake;
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Nay, farther than this, still his love does inlarge,
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Providing for them at his own cost and charge.
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But some are so wicked that they will exclaim
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Against their poor wives, making 'em bear the blame
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And will not look out in the least for a cure,
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But all the sad pains and their torture endure.
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But 'tis without reason, for he that is born
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Under such a Planet, is Heir to the Horn:
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Then come to the Doctor both Rich men and poor,
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He'l carefully cure you, what would you have more?
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The term of his time here the Doctor does write;
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From six in the morning till seven at night;
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Where in his own Chamber he still will remain,
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At the Sign of the Woodcock in Vinegar Lane .
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The Doctor doth here likewise present you with the Re-
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ceipt of his Infalible Medicine, that those that hath no oc-
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casion for it themselves may do good to their Neighbours
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and Acquaintances, and take it here as followeth.
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T Ake 5 pound of Brains of your December Flies
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And forty true tears from a Crocodiles Eyes,
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The wit of a Weasle , the Wooll of a Frog ,
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With an ounce of conserves of a Michaelmas Fogg,
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And make him a Poltis when he goes to Bed,
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To bind to his Temples behind of his Head;
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As hot as the Patient he can well endure,
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And this is for Cuckolds an absolute Cure.
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FINIS .
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