Medicine

"In such a night Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs That did renew old Æson."

"I do remember an apothecary,— And hereabouts he dwells,—whom late I noted In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, Culling of simples; meagre were his looks, Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, An alligator stuff'd, and other skins Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves A beggarly account of empty boxes, Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds, Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses, Were thinly scatter'd to make up a show."

"You rub the sore, When you should bring the plaster."

"Trust not the physician; His antidotes are poison, and he slays More than you rob."

"When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills."

"Crudelem medicum intemperans æger facit."

"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."

"Ægrescitque medendo."

"But nothing is more estimable than a physician who, having studied nature from his youth, knows the properties of the human body, the diseases which assail it, the remedies which will benefit it, exercises his art with caution, and pays equal attention to the rich and the poor."