THE HUNTING OF THE POX:  
A PLEASANT DIScourse between the Author, and Pild-Garlicke.  
Wherein is declared the nature of the Disease, how it came, and how it may be cured.  
By J. T. Westminster.  
LONDON, Printed by I. W. for I. T. and are to be sold by Philip Birch at the sign of the Bible near Guildhall-gate. 1619.   

THE PREFACE to the Reader.  
I Would not wish that any man should here offended be  
With any thing that he shall read, that written is by me.  
Ne did I think at first to put in print such idle stuff;  
I writ it for a friend, which did esteem it well enough:  
But after when that Copies were waxed common all about,  
And that some men unknown to me, in Print would set it out,  
I thought it best begin myself, since that the Book was mine;  
And now have brought to this pass, it is not mine, but thine:  
And thank Pild-Garlicke if thou find aught worth in this same Book,  
He was the second man, I think, that on the same did look.  
And how we first acquainted came, There will show to thee:  
For he made me ●n●a●ge my Book, by conference had with me.  
Ne have I writ this silly work unto the learned sort,  
Ye● of the twain I do submit myself to their report.  
Now if some Reader find such fault, himself list not to mend;  
Let each mend one, for all have faults, so shall we sooner end.  
I. T.   

A CONFERENCE BETWEEN THE AVthour and Pild-Garlicke, concerning his Book called, The Hunting of the Pox and the original of the Disease.  
Upon an idle day it chaun●t  
I walked to see a Play,  
And as I went, I overtook  
Pild-Garlike on the way,  
Who all alone a Plymouth horse  
went leading in his hand,  
And as a man that's Malcontent,  
his Hat without a band:  
A Satin Doublet somewhat torn, with boots and breech us suitable,  
He seemed a Gentleman, whose mind to fashions was not mutable.  
A falling Band, God damn me called, a Rapier by his side,  
He ware no Cloak for comeliness a Cloak doth often hide.  
He had of Spanish Buttons store upon his forehead mixed;  
And where that they were fallen away, there Stools in place were fixed.  
This is the man then did I think, perhaps hath read my Book;  
If not, I will persuade him too, that he thereon will look.  
God save you Sir, good Sir, said I, make bold to crave your name.  
Pild-Garlike, answered he, and s●●nd, wax angry at the same.  
Nay gentle Sir, I would not wish your anger any way,  
I meant but speak a word or two, if you would please to stay.  
Speak what thou wilt, Pild-Garlike said, I have no haste, quoth he,  
So thou no money matters ask; for that go●s low with me.  
Why then ●ir will you 〈◊〉 a Book, a very fine Book indeed,  
And such a Book perhaps the like you scarce shall seldom read.  
What is thy Book, my honest friend, is it a Book of News?  
I Sir, and true translated out of French, and new sent from the Stars.  
The Hunting of the Pox, good Sir, and pleasant for to read,  
And if you keep it all your life, 'twill near once you nob ●ad.  
Ha, ha, thou art a merry Knave, couldst them persuade me so,  
Thy News is new, no, it is stolen, I read i● long ago:  
And two I gave a Waiting Maid, to read on now and than;  
And she did give her Master one, the other to his man:  
And so farewell, my honest friend, to read the Pox is cost,  
Thrice have I read it all myself, and glad now it is lost.  
Nay, stay good sir, If that you please, and drink a pince of Wine,  
And I will tell a merry jest hope to a friend of mine.  
Of ●ee at Winch●st●r the old, where V●●us Temple stood:  
The Stews, men say, was founded there, and now of late as good  
A Brothel house, and to the same resorted this my friend.  
The Matron of the house which knew his mind, and ●o what end  
He used to haunt her unchaste d●nes, she counselled one straightway,  
To feast him with a towne-bred Goose, if he would please to stay.  
He was content, and offered too his help this Goose to dress,  
And some was bro●lde, some ros●, some boiled, three dishes to a mess.  
Is this a Winchester Goose, quoth he, when he had fed his fill:  
If ere I feast it so again, shall be against my will.  
The Kitchen was too hot he said, the Cooke-roome doors were barred,  
His Goose and giblets scal● and burnt, and all the feast was marred:  
In fine, he took his towne-bred Goose, as she did give it him,  
And brought it to a Barber's man, that was both neat and t●im:  
A fine young fellow full of skill, and ask him if he could  
Tell him what uncouth shapen thing it was he did behold.  
Well, quoth the Barber, what say you? you know best what it is;  
As for my part I oft have s●ene a fairer beast than this.  
A beast said he, nay then thou l●est, I so thou hast no skill,  
I bought it for a towne-bred Goose, though now against my will,  
As it falls out to my hard hap. Well, quoth the Barber then,  
It is no Fowl in form nor shape, no Goose nor Turky-Hen;  
But a plain French Coulstaffe you have go, where with ●ou sore have fought:  
Your weapon which yourself hath beat, it seens yourself had brought.  
A Coulstaffe said Pild-Garlike then, is this the wars in France  
Then have I had some blows therewith, by fortune, not by chance▪  
Yet have recovered well enough, so might this friend of thi●e,  
And so I pray thee end this tale, until another time;  
For I have other things to speak, since thou hast made me stay,  
Feign would I know this French-disease, which reigneth at this day,  
And which is found in every Land, how might that first begin,  
For sure if Purgatory be, or penance due for sin:  
Then he who doth endure this pain, need fear no other hell,  
He hath enough, who hath the Pox, that in his bones do dwell.  
Pild-Garlike▪ I perceive you speak, by great experience sure,  
Do read my Book, and see what pains poor Morbu● did endure,  
For there was even plain hell indeed, if hell on earth might be,  
For light and darkness, heat and cold, did to his pains agree:  
But now to satisfy your mind how this Disease first came.  
So far as Stories make record, I'll do the best I can;  
One thousand four hundred ninety three, the French with pusant power  
Besieging Naples at that time, till Charles the fifth Emperor  
Came there, and broke the siege perforce, and in time of his stay,  
Columbus to the Emperor did, present upon a day  
A company of Indians, which the Pox had naturally,  
And they dispersed it in the camps of France and Italy:  
Columbus was an Italian borne, and first that did discover  
West-India sho●●, and people there, and brought of one and other  
To show to Christian Princes, what strange Countries they had found,  
What fertile Lands; what fruits, what mines, did in each place abound,  
To move them for to go possess, such riches offered them,  
Since in those Countries there was none, but naked savage men:  
The soldiers which that time lay there, did covet for to lie  
With those strange women which were brought, but what they got thereby  
Too many know, to their much grief; the French did put the blame  
Upon the Spaniards, that brought it to Naples when they came;  
The Neapolitans did say, the French did bring it them,  
For they this painful sore disease, did never know till then:  
The Flammings call it Spanish Pox, and sure they brought it first  
To Christendom, as you have heard, and therefore most are cursed:  
The Scots likewise, when they have met, some part of this Disease,  
They use in jest to say that they are bit with Spanish Fleas,  
〈…〉 behind, as Fleas do use to do,  
〈…〉, belike they use it too.  
〈…〉 sport, and love know and than,  
〈…〉 hath 〈…〉, is not a Gentleman:  
〈…〉 withal, the Pox of Rome,  
〈…〉 doth stain and 〈◊〉 their clothes, the other fowls the bone●  
〈…〉 they in plain good troth, will swear it came to us  
〈…〉, and therefore takes the name of Morbur Gallicus.  
Pild-Garlike, now I think, I have full satisfied your mind,  
And if you search a thousand books, more truth you shall not find.  
You see what posting off there is, the Pox is no man's friend,  
And since that none will father it, I here will make an end.  
Nay, do not so, Pild-Garlike said, let's here a little more  
The Hunting of the Pox, which you did speak of first before.  
Content, good Sir, and therewithal he made no longer stay,  
But took his book, and turned the lease, and thus began to say.  

The Hunting of the Pox: with the Life and Death of Morbus Gallicus.  
A Young Italian Gentleman, of birth descended well,  
Of stature comely, fair & proud, as those know him could tell;  
His father died, and having got his wealth all in his hands,  
To travail now was his desire, to see some foreign lands:  
His name Sup●i●u● Publicus: and was a Roman borne;  
He hated those despised his name, or Country had in scorn.  
To France he now his journey took, to see the pleasant soil,  
The fashions there to know and learn, he meant to stay a while:  
And finding of the Country sweet, and women that were fair,  
The store of Vineyards, and of fruits, withal a wholesome air:  
Meant there to set his staff, and rest, and 'gan acquaintance seek,  
And such acquaintance as himself, he thought could love and like.  
At length he met a Courtesan, an old Dog at the game,  
Her name was Veneris, people said, the Devil ought him shame;  
And made this fool to fall in love, when first he heard her name.  
She painted was, both face and breasts, and hands with azure veins,  
And for to set her flesh to sale, she spared no skill nor pains:  
He thought an Angel he had met, when first he saw her face,  
So maidenlike behaved herself in gesture and in pace,  
With words so fitting to his mind, set out with comely grace:  
Yet had the Pox so bither bones, and Hounds which on her tended,  
Fell on at length Saperbus flesh, till that his life they ended.  
This Ve●eris, was ● Hound most fair, by Art and Nature made,  
A Neapolitan by birth, a Courtesan by trade:  
Her Syer●a Dog●● of India breed, her Dam in stews brought up,  
And she herself 〈◊〉 into France, where quickly she was put  
Into an honest brothelhouse, for that must be the name,  
therefore to learn, and be brought up, till she be passed all shame.  
She was the first that seized upon Superbus in his sport,  
And made him poor and se●●e, God knows as men of him report;  
And altered all his body clean, that strangers where he came  
Did call him Morbus Gallicus, or French-diseased man:  
Yet Morbus was not then his name, but she did give it him,  
And for because he would be known, to be one of her kin,  
She left a token and a mark, that stuck fast to his skin.  
At length this Hound, with all her Whelps, he entertained at last,  
Though in the end he would have run, away from them full fast:  
M●ch like Actr●● whom his Hounds, their Master eat unknown,  
Because he like a Hart with horns, and hair was overgrown,  
And yet the Huntsman knew full well the Hounds were all his own,  
And would have spoke, if that he could, and called each by his name,  
Whereby they should have ceased to bite, if Dogs had any shame.  
But these Dogs; which I tend to speak, was of another kind;  
Of other nature and of form, and of another mind:  
For first they caught Superbus purse, and eat the bottom out,  
Then on his gay and silken clothes, and leapt him in a clout.  
And thus in passing by degrees, they thought best to begin  
To strip him first, and so they might come better to his skin.  
Thus was Superbus Publican so leapt and wrapped with shame;  
That he was malcontent, perforce to leave his public name.  
Not one good part was in these Hounds, though he his wealth them gave,  
Save that they showed their love in this, they brought him to his grave.  
It resteth now to speak in brief, the story as I find,  
The hunting with the Hounds, their names, and natures of their kind:  
That each good man that 〈◊〉 C●●s, may draw his sword at them,  
And stolen no do●●●●●sse to kill such beasts as would kill men.  
Now after Veneris had 〈…〉 Morbu● to the quick,  
And like a Horse-l●nd● 〈◊〉 him, and to his down did stick,  
That he was feign ●o b●●y again, much like a new feign Deer,  
Which when the other Dogs and Hounds did sent and overhear,  
The Kennel all ca●●● in at once, more than a man would think,  
Whose breaths like Carrin did infect the air with loathsome stink:  
There was no sounding of retreat by winding horn was heard,  
For every Dog ran for his part, as if he had been starved.  
First Go●●ra, that always still in running had delight,  
Did sea● upon his reins and back, and there did gnaw and bite;  
This Go●●ra an old ●eade Hound, some say in Sodom bred,  
Would never leave, if that she might, until her prey were dead.  
Then B●●bo, with her stealing pace upon his groin did fast,  
And if she suffered might have been, would eat his guts at last.  
This B●●bo had to Sire a Cur, from Portugals he came,  
A Courtesan in Lisbon Town, was said to be her Dam:  
She had of Puppies two or three, Amorous some them call,  
Because that like to Mulberries, upon the skin do fall,  
These seized upon the Virgo top, and stuck fast to his skin,  
Which growing ripe and turned to seed, like warts they do begin.  
Then came Car●●●cula, a Brache, her Dam and Sire of Spain,  
A wicked Whelp it was, and put poor Morbus to great pain,  
She would not come into his house, nor scratch his garden-plot,  
But in his Yard both day and night a kennel there she got:  
At length he took her for a Witch, for every time that he  
Came there his water for to make, which heretofore went free,  
It now came forkedly with pain, and suddenly would stop,  
Till that an ulcer like proud flesh, was in his Yard begot.  
This Bitch's Beldame was a Whelp, when Charles the fift first came  
Unto the siege of Naple● there, with Go●ora her Dam.  
Then M●rdeo a subtle Hound, that had a Wolf to Syer,  
Did feed on Glans and eat it off, and made it burn like fire.  
This was an Irish Cur some say, and grumled as he ran,  
Thence into England he was brought, from thence to France he came▪  
At Winchester he eat a Goose, all wholly sane the rump,  
The which without all feathers clean, appeared like a stump.  
But now this while poor Morbus head was never touched with grief,  
Till Alop●ce, that shagged Cur, came stealing like a thief  
Behind, and bitten off all his hair, even to the very skin,  
As if that never hair had grown, or on his head had been.  
A pybalde Priest brought up this Dog to lick off all his hair,  
For of a Barber's razor he did ever stand in fear.  
Then little Formica came in, as busy as a Bee,  
And all her Beagle Whelps with her, as nimble limbde as she:  
These for their short and nimble legs, at receipt used to lie,  
For that they must advantage take to gain cope ground thereby;  
Which when they had their prey espied, and they poor Morbus found,  
That sore had hunted been of late, and laid him on the ground  
To rest himself; these Whelps came in, like little Aunts a pace,  
Some ran into his neck and breech, some bitten him by the face,  
And as a man should naked be, rolled in a nettle bed,  
So did they sting and bite his skin, like unto fire red.  
Then came in Pustill spotted red, and on his forehead light  
Like Tavern tokens, all bespread and set themselves in sight;  
Or like to Stars which in the heavens do shine in frosty night,  
Some men do call them Spanish-fleas, for that they leave behind  
Red spots or stalls where they have been, as Fleas do leave by kind:  
A Leopard sure was thought to be, the Sire of this foul Hound,  
For that near Arden-forrest he, at lions first was found.  
Then Talpa set on by the rest, crept underneath the skin,  
And as a Mole heaves up the earth, and so runs deeper in:  
So did this Cur creep to the skull of silly Morbus head,  
And fold the bone, and raised it up, and made therein his bed,  
And lay therein so secretly, as if he had been dead.  
This Talpa was a lazy Cur, and loved to take his rest,  
Which had a Dam, that Tophos hight, as wicked as the best:  
This Tophos at this time fell lame, and could not go, nor stand,  
And lay in Ro●n, amongst her kin, under a Surgeon's hand.  
But Pollypus who had to Syer a M●ungie Flemish Cur,  
Did come and creep up Morbus nose, and there stuck like a burr,  
Yet could not hide herself; for why, her tail was seen hang down,  
Much like a Turkeycock, whose comb hangs dangling from his crown,  
And like a Polecats stink, or worse, this Pollypus did make,  
That Morbus friends, such as he had, began him to forsake  
〈…〉 ●ound, bitten him behind the ears,  
And 〈…〉 Dog, down to the skull him tears.  
This Fissure was a 〈…〉, and had two Puppies more,  
Ma●●●●● and 〈…〉 dogs, that plagued poor Morbus sore:  
This Ma●●●●●● was a 〈◊〉 Cur, and over used to scratch,  
And never left, till that the blood his nails did over match.  
And Scurvy crept into his joints, and made his body lame,  
And raised his 〈…〉 his teeth, and brought all out of frame,  
This Scurvy had a 〈◊〉 sometime, in Rome not long ago,  
That dwelled in Cardinal Corpus house, and rested in his toe;  
Her name was P●d●gra, they say, Rich men do know her well,  
And she made choice of Morbus fo●te, therein to bide and dwell.  
Then eating 〈◊〉 came with speed, this was of barbarous kind,  
But more accursed Dog then this, could never Morbus find,  
She eat his throat and 〈◊〉 and made his nose to fall,  
And sent out 〈◊〉, which perfu●●● his chamber, house, and all:  
So that poor Morbus had no speech, nor voice to cry or call.  
Then Nodus, 〈◊〉, and Harp●● came, and Pain all bred in France,  
Of four such Dogs you never heard, as these, all came by chance.  
First Nodus bit him by the shins, and sometimes on the brow,  
And raised up bunches, knots and bumps, with aches joined ●now.  
And Crust, that came of Ma●●gies kind, both of the Sire and Dam  
All over Morbus 〈◊〉 skin, full suddenly he ran,  
And never left, till that his crown he conquered had and won.  
And Herpes, he with creeping pace, went eating all the way,  
And cast up furrows like a Mole, with feeding night and day,  
And craved of Cr●st, where he had fed, to hide it if he may.  
At length came Pain, that hunts by night, and bitten him skin and bone;  
And though he biteth many a man, yet chose he him alone,  
To feed upon in bed a nights, that Morbus could not sleep,  
But tend the feeding of his Hounds, as Shepherds do their sheep.  
Then Furs●r, he, a Baker's Dog, and bred in Britain Land,  
But yet a mankind Cur to feed, and bite men by the hand;  
Did raise up branny scales and dust, upon poor Morbus skin,  
That of a creature wrapped in woe, was none found like to him:  
Yet was he rich in precious stones, but not in gold nor fee,  
That longs to Lords of great estate, not such a man as he:  
But yet a Rich Pearl in his eye, a Ruby on his nose,  
And in his tail an Emrod fair, and so he stately go●s.   

THE MANNER OF CURING THE French Disease, according to the constitution of divers Countries.  
NOw list we not no more to speak of Dogs, nor yet of Hounds,  
Poor Morbus feels the least of them, as deep as deadly wounds:  
And leave him in his bed poor man, that cannot go nor stand,  
Nor scarce alone can feed himself, so weak in limb and hand.  
But yet a feigned help at last, a friend of his professed,  
And promised, if he would be ruled, he should be dispossessed  
Of all these Dogs and scurvy Curs, that did him so molest.  
And therewith brought in Medicus, that was a Florintine,  
Of Venice, Naples, and of Rome, and every where sometime;  
Howbeit, well known a Mountebank, that went from town to town  
With Venis-Treacle, and with Drugs, that he sold up and down:  
With him came Pharmacus, High- , a Apothecary's man,  
And Leech, a Germane Quacksalver, that from his Master ran,  
For three such knaves, if hell were sought, more worse could not be found:  
Yet in those Countries every where, such stragavants abound.  
And these did all with one consent, him promise help with speed;  
So he could money purchase them, to recompense their meed.  
Which being done, they fell to work, all like a pack of knaves,  
For many a hundred they had sent alive into their graves:  
And therefore knew the way full well, to help this crazy man;  
And Medicus to countenance all, he was the first began,  
And nointed Morbus over all, about with Vygoes' grease,  
And sweat him in a tub, whereby that all his pains should cease.  
What followed next is shame to tell, but so he brought about,  
Poor Morbus tongue and gumbes did swell, and all his teeth fell out.  
Then Pharmacus with glisters, and Horseleeches in a glass,  
Began his Music, and applied his Bagpipes to his arste.  
Yet all this while poor Morbus head did never take no rest,  
For day and night his newmade pains, each hour did him molest.  
Then Leech he took a wimble up, and board him through the skull,  
This wimble he a Trepan called, and out a piece did pull,  
And poured in Kyst, and made him drink, Spruse-Beere his belly full,  
Till that they laid him in a trance, and whilst that did endure,  
They stole away, and left report, that he was past all cure.  
Now when all hopes were past and gone, and Art no more could try,  
And he grown sick and faint, and looked each hour for to die;  
He counseled was to seek a Priest, and have mind of his soul,  
Lest sudden death should take him hence before his bell could toll:  
The Priest was sent for out of hand, a little poor old man,  
And prayed make haste, I will (quoth he) make all the haste I can▪  
Belike the Priest had understood before of Morbus name,  
And would have posted off to go, had it not been for shame;  
And more, for being spoken to, he may not it deny,  
And therefore 〈◊〉 with more speed, before the man should die:  
So when he came and entered in the chamber where he lay,  
And saw poor Morbus look on him, and never a word did say;  
S●l●● Domin●, said the Priest, be answered soft, & ●●,  
The Priest was angry at that word, and thought he called him jew;  
And would have gone away in rage, had not some for God's sake  
Requested him to stay; for why, he did the sick mistake,  
And told him that his throat was sore, and all his teeth were out,  
He could not speak, and stink perfumed his chamber round about:  
Then did this Priest think with himself, he should commit great sin,  
If that the sacred blessed Host he should give unto him,  
To swallow down by stinking mouth, and throat filled with the Pox,  
He turned about, and secretly ●ulde out a little box,  
That in his wide gown sleeve had hid, and that of purpose thought,  
As some do think, for in the same a Turnip he had brought,  
And privately cut off a slice thereof, and somewhat thin,  
And after ceremonies done, the vile Priest gave it him;  
Poor Morbus ●oulde it in his mouth, because his throat was rough,  
And through his nose he told the Priest, his God was very tough:  
The Priest then bade him swallow it down, though it put him to pain,  
The merit of his own free-will in heaven should find a gain:  
With that poor Morbus forced himself to swallow down the Host,  
And in that doing choked himself, and so gave up the ghost:  
Requi●● in pace, said the Priest, so rest thy soul in peace,  
For now by death thy sins and pains shall here for ever cease.  
'twas well done, said Pild-Garlike then, to ease him of his grief,  
But yet I wish a better cure should come for my relief:  
And for the tale which thou hast told, I like it passing well,  
But thou therein hast been too bold, as now I will thee tell.  
The Gonoraea perhaps thou knowest by divers ways may come,  
And Alopece by sickness long, and Scorbute which doth run  
Amongst the joints and maketh lame, and likewise for the Gout,  
The which belongs unto great Lords, not for to jest or flout:  
'tis known Pope Sixtus died thereof, and Lewes the twelfth of France;  
And many Princes of great state, whom Honour did advance,  
And had no Pox at all men know, therefore who made the same  
Did want of matter for to write, or else he was too blame.  
Pild-Garlick you are much deceived, and that for want of skill  
The Pox is master of all griefs, where he may have his will:  
Who hath the scurvy, Alopece, or running of the reins,  
Serpigo, Hemrods, or the Piles, or whatsoe'er breeds pains.  
If that the Pox be there before, he master is of all;  
See Parraselsus, which hath writ, of Pox great and small,  
And he will say a pocky Gout, and dropsies of that kind,  
And more diseases which some men by pains do chance to finder  
The Pox will breed, and Naturalise by law of Propinquinitie,  
And double all their force and pains, by nearness of Affinity.  
Well answered then, Pild-Garlicke said, thy judgement likes me well,  
I'll grace thy Book where ere I go, as also where I dwell.  
But, Honest friend, after all this, one thing doth yet remain,  
To help poor Morbus in this case, and how to cure his pain,  
And kill or poison all his Dogs, for sure there is a way;  
For I myself have thrice been cured, as thou hast heard me say:  
Yet know I not, for want of skill, in this what course to take,  
For divers I do see doth mar, the cures which others make.  
Master Pild-Garlicke, I am disposed to satisfy your mind:  
I see you gentle in your speech, and in correction kind,  
Where you find fault, I take it well, but some no words can please,  
I would such men our words distaste, might taste our Spanish-Fleas.  
And now, Sir, since you me request, and for some are abused,  
I'll write you Medicines of the best, and how they may be used,  
And which shall cure all griefs thereof, conserving your intent,  
If the Disease be not confinnde, or Nature too much spent.   

THE MANNER OF CURING THE French ●●●ease, according to the constitution of 〈◊〉 Countries.  
THe Indians of the Western parts, whence this Disease first came,  
Doth use Tobacco divers ways, to cure and help the same:  
They eat 〈◊〉 to purge the blood, and sternutation make  
For head ache pains, and then the smoke to draw the rheum they take.  
The Spaniards forty years ago that into Flanders came,  
And brought the Pox, or got them there, to ease them now and than  
Of their sore pain● 〈◊〉 Sena ●ake, which into powder small  
They did reduce, 〈◊〉 Tartar white, the dose a dram was all,  
Which every morning they would take, go where soe'er they will,  
This did them ease 〈…〉 those, the which did use it still.  
The Spaniards and the Portugals, that came from new found Spain,  
Doth use to boil them Sassafras, to ease them of their pain;  
And taking of no other drink, for this they think most sure,  
Save that each other fourth day, whilst this drink doth endure,  
They purge them with Mecho●can and so perform the cure.  
In Italy the Courtesans, and those of better sort,  
Do take the Chyma-roote for help, as some of them report,  
The which with Salsa, and nought else, a fair decoction make,  
And for their cure while that doth dure, no other drink they take,  
Save that some Rhubarb now and then, they use for pleasures sake.  
The French doth use the Holly-wood, which from Domingo came,  
Which causeth vomit, and doth purge with ease to every man,  
And since they are most cunning in decoctions of all kinds,  
With purging, sweats, and diet rules, as best shall please their minds.  
The Scots to cure their Spanish-Fleas, do make of diet drinks,  
Some for to purge, to sweat, and dry, each man as best he thinks.  
The Irish they scarce know this grief, till they abroad do roam,  
And if they poisoned be therewith, they heal when they come home.  
If they be sick, or Fevor-like, or what disease doth fall,  
Their Shamrok and their Bonny-Clabb, is medicen good for all.  
The Flemings and the Hollanders, do Lignum vitae take,  
And with the Cortex of the same, a drying diet make:  
And sometimes use a purging drink, some strong, another small,  
Sometime a drink of both effects, to dry and purge withal.  
Thus do we see that God hath sent, a salve for every sore,  
And every Country to their kind, is fit with medicen's store.  
But since we mean to make complete, this work we have begun,  
And leave the work of Nature out, and unto art to run.  
And lest that other men should judge us simple in the same,  
we'll speak the truth of A●te we know, so shall we void the blame.  
The Germans with their Spagirike and Chemic Doctors say,  
That they in curing of the Pox, have found a better way,  
Then heretofore hath practised been, and how that Mercury  
Is Lord and Patron of the Pox, as every man may try.  
For whereas eu●ry Planet else, in Mutocosmos reigns  
And rules the Heart, the Lungs and Brains, the Arteries and the urines.  
This Mercury hath no certain place, but doth usurp of all,  
As we do see how that the Pox, in every place doth fall  
About the body of a man, which makes our judgement sure,  
As Mercury is the Lord of it, so Mercury makes the cure.  
And therefore some take Argent vi●e, which Mercury they call,  
The which with Spirits of Vitriale, a Turpet makes withal;  
And of the same, form little Pills, with pulp of Apples roast,  
And give ten grains thereof at once, twelve grains must be the most;  
And oft to drink hot postel Whey, that hath decoct therein,  
Of C●rdus Benedictus tops, to help the Flux, begin.  
Then in the Interim now and then, with Venus' Treacle sweat,  
And see each thing he take be warm, which he shall drink or eat,  
And wash his mouth with Vinegar, that hath Rose-water mixed,  
That 'tween his tongue, his teeth and cheeks, there lies no filth betwixt:  
And give the pills but till you see, the Flux gins to come;  
And keep him from cold air and wind, until the Flux be done:  
Then make a diet drink which shall revert the matter down,  
And you shall cure as well as the best Barber in the Town:  
Provided that no Nodes remain, on Periostion fixed,  
For they are tumours full of pain, by tarterous humours mixed:  
Nor do not the disease mistake, in using Mercury,  
For fear joint Aches, or worse pains, you do procure thereby;  
Nor see that no obstructions be, or fragments let remain,  
For then there will a relapse call the Frenchman back again.  
And one thing more, observe the Moon, at Change or Full begin,  
And purge not in a fixed Sign, if thou wouldst credit win:  
And for that preparation must in all things go before,  
Seek to the learned Physician for, his counsel evermore.  
I have been here too large in speech, I fear I shall be shent,  
But that a rule I thought to form, and that was my intent:  
For all these Turpets which are given, must work but one effect,  
Therefore be constant in your cure, that Nature be not checked,  
Which if you do, he dies for it; this Item take of me,  
The daintier that the body is, the sooner dead is he.  
The yellow Turpets which are made, with spirit of Vitriall,  
And gold with Mercury constant fixed, which some judge best of all:  
The Petr● ●ade by Phirovant, which he extols so high,  
Of Mercury, gold, and iron fixed, which I think few do try,  
The Diafortick Mercuries, and how to use the same,  
Mercurius vitae and his use, that bears so great a name:  
The fume or smoke of Synaber the Unction for to sweat;  
Of every thing somewhat is spoke, or need of to entreat.  
For here in brief I leave them out, and send you to the Book,  
Where you shall find them every one, at leisure if you look:  
Nor do I mean in Chirurgery to spend here any time,  
To speak of Ca●sti●kes which corrodes the Buboes of the groin:  
Of Pouldres, Lotions, and such like, which Virga doth require:  
Of Squirts, and waters for't in use, which smarts and burns like fire:  
Of Launcets nor Incision Knives, nor Candles made of wax,  
To proabe the sore, Caruncula, with divers other knacks:  
The laying bare of Cranium, the Nodes upon the shins,  
Then for to raspe and scale the bones, the Surgeon's gain begins:  
Ne do we here deny such things, when we have cause to use them;  
But he that hath no need thereof, were better to refuse them.  
The last are Women-Surgeons, which do carry diet drink,  
And Ointments in a box, to smear their Patients till they stink;  
And will compare with Surgeons all, what rank so ere they be;  
Against Physicians she'll accept, and be as good as he;  
She hath of Medicines which she knows, we have no use of them,  
Nor never will her skill reveal to such unskilful men:  
She hath a Lady which will bear her out in any thing,  
she'll smell and lick their waters all, which people to her bring:  
And she's the Cunning-woman called, and where some gets a penny,  
she'll have a shilling from their purse, if money they have any:  
Assarabacca, and the seeds called Cattapuse of them;  
The Stibbium and the Colliquint, and some Eleboris then:  
Spurge-Comfits, Aloes, and a drink, shall women get with child,  
And set a Maiden free, which doubts some man hath her beguiled:  
Her Fucus and her Blaunching-pots and glasses with complexion,  
Her Talcum and her Spaude prepared, all of her own direction:  
These are the secret Medicines, which they hold so dear of prize,  
A jew did bid her keep them safe, from learned and unwise.  
Ne do I here of Ladies speak, nor Gentry in this land,  
Who in their Countries do great cures, performed by their hand;  
The which in Christian charity, and for no hope of gain,  
Refuse no counsel, nor no cost, nor spares for any pain.  
Enough, enough, Pild-Garlicke said, 'tis time that I were gone,  
To speak of Women-Surgeons now, I think there's ten for one  
That rational Surgeons be, but who can it redress;  
The more they threat to put them down, the more they do increase:  
For some are backed by mighty men, and Ladies, as they say,  
Therefore to make an end of them, let's now no longer stay.  
One word or two, and so an end, quoth he that made the Book,  
Wish each good man comes to the hedge, before he leap, to look:  
And let him not that hath the Pox, think for to wear it out,  
But first to seek for help in time, for fear of further doubt.  
Who happens in a Surgeon's hand, where Art and Virtue dwell,  
Such Patients they are blest of God, the others live in hell.  
Give me thy Book Pild-Garlicke said, and lend to me thy hand,  
I never met a merrier Knave, in any Realm or Land.  
FINIS.    

THE MEANING OF CERTAIN WORDS OR NAMES, which seemeth to some hard to understand in this Book.  
CVrte●an, a Whore by licence.  
Veneris, Lechery.  
Superbus Publicus, a common noted ●roud man.  
Moths Gallicus, the French-Disease.  
Action, a 〈◊〉 in Ovid's Metam●epho●●s.  
Gonorea gallica, the ru●●ing of the Rey●●s in that Disease.  
Caruncula, 〈◊〉 Excrece●segr-wing in the Yard of a man, by lying with unclean women.  
Bubo venerius, is a b●tch in the Groin, which cometh by a sudden stopping the flux of the reins.  
Amorons, are certain fleshy excrecenses, at the beginning like Mulberries, and as they dry like Warts, and grow on the head of a man's Yard  
Glans, is the acorn or head of a man's Yard.  
Alope●ia gallica, is meant the falling of the hair in this Disease.  
Spanish-Buttons, Pustills, and Spanish Fleas, are dry Scabs appearing in the head and forehead, and when they fall away, they leave red stools be●inde, like Fl●a-b●ing●.  
Talpa, is a virulent Disease, and fouleth the upper table of the Cranium or skull, and raiseth up the bone, as a Mole heaveth up the earth before him.  
Tophi, are gross humours and viscon●lying upon Cranium under Petiostion, and maketh one part of the head or forehead seem bigger than the other part.  
Periostion, is a skin that covereth all the bones of the body of man, and groweth to the same, and on that the fl●sh.  
Fissurae, are chaps or clives sometime happening behind the ears, the toes, the fundements.  
Scorbutum, the Scurvy.  
Canker, is a venomous eating ulcer, and may be sister to Noli me tangere, differing only in the cure.  
Nodus, are bunches on the brow or shinbones, they differ from Tophi in this, that Tophi lieth under the Periostion, and this lieth upon it, and therefore most painfullest.  
Crust, is a Scab, which in this Disease runneth all the body over, like a leprous scall.  
Herpes and Serpigoes, are Tetters and Ringworms, engendered of saltflegme or tumour Erisipelas.  
Formica, is a pricking or stinging in the skin, as if a man were bitten with Ants.  
Furfur, is a dust like unto Bran, engendered of vapours breathing out of the body, and drying on the skin, and after falleth off in scales.  
Hemrods, are a painful Disease, breaking out about the fundament from the Hemrode veins.   

THE AUTHORS WHICH have written of this Disease are divers and many, neither need I to trouble myself with searching the multitude of them: some for the Names, Nature, and Medicaments needful, I follow.  
DOctor Lowe, Scotchman, in his Book De morbo Hispanico.  
Philip Hermanus, upon Paracelsus, in his Book De Morbus gallico, and Doctor Monardus of Civil.  
The Method of Physic, by Philip Barrow.  
Penotus a Frenchman, in his Book De Medicamentis Chymicis, and his Denarium.  
Crollius in his Book Basillica Medicamentis.  
Quercitanus in his Pharmacopaea.  
Phyrovant in his Book of Secrets.  
Tyrocinium Chymicum.  
johannes de Vigo.  
FINIS.