You behold in me
Only a travelling Physician;
One of the few who have a mission
read more

You behold in me
Only a travelling Physician;
One of the few who have a mission
To cure incurable diseases,
Or those that are called so.

How the Doctor's brow should smile,
Crown'd with wreaths of camomile.

How the Doctor's brow should smile,
Crown'd with wreaths of camomile.

I firmly believe that if the whole materia medica could be sunk
to the bottom of the sea, it read more

I firmly believe that if the whole materia medica could be sunk
to the bottom of the sea, it would be all the better for mankind
and all the worse for the fishes.

I bought an unction of a mountebank,
So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,
Where read more

I bought an unction of a mountebank,
So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,
Where it draws blood so cataplasm so rare,
Collected from all simples that have virtue
Under the moon, can save the thing from death
That is but scratched withal. I'll touch my point
With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.

I find the medicine worse than the malady.

I find the medicine worse than the malady.

A single doctor likes a sculler plies,
And all his art and all his physic tries;
But read more

A single doctor likes a sculler plies,
And all his art and all his physic tries;
But two physicians, like a pair of oars,
Conduct you soonest to the Stygian shores.

He (Tiberius) was wont to mock at the arts of physicians, and at
those who, after thirty years of read more

He (Tiberius) was wont to mock at the arts of physicians, and at
those who, after thirty years of age, needed counsel as to what
was good or bad for their bodies.

In poison there is physic; and these news,
Having been well, that would have made me sick,
read more

In poison there is physic; and these news,
Having been well, that would have made me sick,
Being sick, have in some measure made me well.

You tell your doctor, that y' are ill
And what does he, but write a bill,
Of read more

You tell your doctor, that y' are ill
And what does he, but write a bill,
Of which you need not read one letter,
The worse the scrawl, the dose the better.
For if you knew but what you take,
Though you recover, he must break.