The Skilful Doctor of Glocester-shire:
OR,
A new way to take Physick.
This ditty doth concern a Country Farmer,
Who lay with his maid, not thinking to harm her,
But she, poor Wench, was by her Master vild,
First tempt to sin, then after got with Child:
But by the Doctors skill, her honest dame,
Excus'd her Husband, and sav'd her maid from blame,
The Doctor he hath medic[i]nes in store,
To Cure all sorts of folks, both rich and poor.
The Tune is, Beds making.
|
A Country Farmer, as 'tis said,
|
That had a pritty handsome Maid,
|
He askt her a question secretly,
|
To which she answered, by and by:
|
And being kindly reconcil'd,
|
The Farmer got his Maid with-Child.
|
And after he had done the deed,
|
His heart poor man did almost bleed;
|
With inward grief and trembling fear,
|
Doubting his Wife should of it hear:
|
The Maid did likewise sigh and groan,
|
And to her Master made great moan.
|
Wherefore all dangers to prevent,
|
Unto a poor young-man he went,
|
Saying, ten pounds he would him give,
|
And be a friend while he did live:
|
So thou wilt finish up my st[r]ife,
|
And take my Maid to be thy Wife.
|
The young-man thus to him reply'd,
|
Your suit to me must be deny'd,
|
For I will neither Reap nor Mow
|
The Bastard-seed that you did sow:
|
Get a work-man where you can, quoth he,
|
For I your Hireling will not be.
|
The Farmer being thus den'd,
|
Another practice he soon try'd;
|
There was a Doctor he knew well
|
That three miles from his house did dwel
|
Unto this Doctor he told all,
|
That did of late to him befall.
|
The Doctor answered him, and told,
|
If you'l give me ten pounds in Gold,
|
I'le teach you such a pritty trick,
|
I'm sure you never heard the like:
|
To save your Maid and you from blame,
|
And your Wife shall yield unto the same
|
To this the Farmer soon agreed,
|
And down he laid ten pounds with speed,
|
The Money pleas'd the Doctor well,
|
Who straight his Money began to tell,
|
Mark well what I shall say, quoth he,
|
And learn this Counsel now of me.
|
With speed run home and tell your wife,
|
That you shall surely lose your life,
|
By reason of a grievous pain,
|
That in your belly doth remain:
|
There is no way but you must dye,
|
Unless you seek some remedy.
|
Pray her with all the speed may be,
|
To bring your Water unto me,
|
And when she comes, let me alone,
|
I'le shew such skill as ne'r was shown:
|
Such stories to her i'le unfold,
|
The like strange news was never told.
|
I Will perswade her thus, and say,
|
Last time that you together lay,
|
The Moon it was Eclipsed strange,
|
And nature did her courses change;
|
Mars by Dame Venus was beguil'd,
|
And so your wife got you with Child.
|
This bargain made, brought much content
|
Home in all haste the Farmer went;
|
And told his Wife so strange a tale,
|
As made her countenance look pale:
|
Dear wife, quoth he, I am perplext,
|
Never was man before so vext.
|
I am incumbered with great pains,
|
From top to toe, through all my veins;
|
My back and sides grieve me so sore,
|
Such pains I never felt before:
|
But yet the greatest pain I tell ye,
|
Lies rumbling up and down my belly.
|
Husband, quoth she, I can you tell,
|
Of one that soon can make you well
|
He cures, as Ide understand,
|
All diseases that he takes in hand;
|
And if you please to have it so,
|
I'le to him with your Water go.
|
Next morning with a good intent,
|
The good-wife to the Doctor went;
|
And shews to him her Husbands water,
|
Now mark the jest that follows after:
|
Cox-body, quoth the Doctor mild,
|
Thy Husband surely is with-Child.
|
The woman she was much amaz'd,
|
And on the Doctor strangely gaz'd;
|
Good Sir, in kindness now tell me,
|
How such things in a Man may be?
|
I will, quoth he, make you no doubt,
|
And time at last will bring it out.
|
When Luna last was in the Eclips,
|
You with your Husband joyned Lips,
|
Then Jupiter being wrapt in thunder,
|
Turn'd Venus up, while Mars lay under
|
By which Conjunction well I wot,
|
Your husband then with Child was got
|
Alas, alas, then said his wife
|
IIs there no means to save his life?
|
I would not for a thousand pound.
|
My husband he should fall toth' ground;
|
Faith, quoth the Doctor, there is none,
|
No ways to save his life but one.
|
Kind loving Sir, then answered she,
|
If you will be so good to me,
|
To tell how I his life may save,
|
I'le give whatever you will have:
|
No cost nor pains that I will spare,
|
To save his life whom I love so dear:
|
But first, quoth he, I'le have you swear,
|
And also have a special care,
|
To let no body know while you live,
|
What Phisick he is to receive;
|
She straightway bound it with an Oath,
|
I'le keep your counsel by my troth.
|
The Doctor's Potion of Physick.
|
Then mark me well what's to be done,
|
Each night 'bout setting of the Sun,
|
His Supper then you must provide,
|
Of Eggs, and some choice Meats beside:
|
And for to strengthen his weak back
|
You must give him a pint of Sack.
|
Which being done, put him to bed,
|
And lay soft Pillows under his head;
|
Then make for him a Posset fine,
|
With Sugar and sweet Muskadine;
|
Commixt with Cinnamon and Mace,
|
And let him swallow it down apace.
|
When he hath slept an hour or twain,
|
Then you must come to him again,
|
And bring with you a lusty Maid,
|
Which to his Belly must be laid:
|
So let them merrily sleep together,
|
And lovingly embrace each other.
|
This course you must for 3 weeks take,
|
And then besure that it will make
|
The pain too from his back and side,
|
The Maid the torment shall abide,
|
And afterwards in little space,
|
She will bring forth a babe of Grace.
|
And when your Maid is brought to Bed,
|
Your self must lye down in her stead;
|
And because nothing must be known,
|
Folks must believe the Child's your own
|
Besure you take this course said he,
|
And so your Husband eas'd shall be.
|
The woman having heard this news,
|
Ran home in haste, how could she chuse
|
Where she did see her Husband lye,
|
Like one just ready for to dye:
|
Then presently she did unfold,
|
All that the Doctor had her told.
|
Alas, quoth he, such pangs I have,
|
There is no means my life to save;
|
Unless you do a Posset make,
|
To cure my belly of the ake:
|
Wherefore the Woman out of hand,
|
Did as the Doctor did command.
|
A Supper of most dainty meat,
|
She made him ready for to eat,
|
And because he should no Physick lack,
|
She after Supper gave him Sack:
|
Then kept him warm within his bed
|
And with sweet Posset she him fed.
|
This being done, with Cupids aid,
|
She got the good will of her Maid,
|
To lye and keep her Master warm,
|
And said, he should do her no harm;
|
The Maid at first seem'd loath to do;
|
But at the last yielded thereto.
|
And as the Doctor did foretell,
|
So every thing in order fell,
|
The Maid in time was brought to bed,
|
The good wife lay down in her stead:
|
The man was of his burthen eas'd,
|
The Child at Nurse, and all are pleas'd
|
You that these verses hear or Read,
|
If of this Doctor you stand in need,
|
Enquire him out where he doth dwell,
|
And surely he will use you well;
|
He'l give you Physick to your mind,
|
So that your purses be well lin'd.
|
|
|
|
|
|