THERE is nothing so impossible in nature, but mountebanks will undertake nothing so incredible, but they will affirm: Mrs. Bull's condition was looked upon as desperate by all the men of art; but there were those, that bragged they had an infallible ointment and plaster, which being applied to the sore, would cure it in a few days; at the same time they would give her a pill, that would purge off all her bad humours, sweeten her blood, and rectify her disturbed imagination. In spite of all applications, the patient grew worse every day; she stunk so, nobody durst come within a stone's throw of her, except those quacks who attended her close, and apprehended no danger. If one asked them, how Mrs. Bull did? Better and better, said they; the parts heal, and her constitution mends; if she submits to our government, she will be abroad in a little time. Nay, it is reported, that they wrote to her friends in the country, that she should dance a jig next October in Westminster-hall, and that her illness had chiefly been owing to bad physicians. At last, one of them[2] was sent for in great haste, his patient grew worse and worse: when he came, he affirmed that it was a
- ↑ and notwithstanding many attempts to prolong it, particularly some difficulties started by the lord
- ↑ chancellor, it was dissolved on the 21 Sept. 1710.
