The Tunbridge Doctors
You maidens and wives and young widows, rejoice! Declare your thanksgiving with heart and with voice! Since waters were waters, I dare boldly say, There ne'er was such cause of a thanksgiving day!
For from London Town there's lately come down Four able physicians that never wore gown: Their physic is pleasant, their dose it is large, And you may be cured without danger or charge.
No Bolus nor Vomit, no potion nor pill (Which sometimes do cure, but oftener do kill,) Your taste nor your stomach need ever displease, If you'll be advised but by one of these.
For they've a new drug, which is called The Close Hug, Which will mend your complexion and make you look smug A sovereign balsam, which, once well applied, Though grieved at the heart, the patient ne'er died.
In the morning you need not be robbed of your rest For in your warm beds your physic works best And though, in the taking, some stirring's required, The motion's so pleasant you cannot be tired.
For on your backs you must lie with your body raised high, And one of these doctors must always be by, Who still will be ready to cover you warm, For if you take cold, all physic doth harm.
Before they do venture to give their direction, They always consider their patient's complexion: If she have a moist palm or a red head of hair She requires more physic than one man can spare.
If she have a long nose, the doctor scarce knows How many good handfuls must go to her dose You ladies that have such ill symptom as these In reason and conscience should pay double fees.
But that we may give to these doctors due praise, Who to all sorts of people their favours conveys: On the ugly for pity sake skill shall be shown, And as for the handsome—they're cured for their own!
On silver and gold they never lay hold, For what comes so freely they scorn should be sold: Then join with the doctors; and heartily pray Their power of healing may never decay!
- Hesperus
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My Thing Is My Own: Bawdy Songs of D'Urfey (1653-1723)
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