CHAPTER II.

SHAKESPEARE. The bard of Avon, in the wide and general knowledge he displays of the manners, ways, and customs of his own and other countries in his plays, makes many allusions to drugs and herbs, and their use. In his references to drugs, there is none perhaps on which greater difference of opinion exists than that alluded to in the speech of the Ghost in _Hamlet_, in which the apparition says:— “Sleeping within mine orchard, My custom always in the afternoon, Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, With juice of cursèd hebenon in a vial, And in the porches of mine ear did pour The leprous distilment; whose effect Holds such an enmity with blood of man, That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through The natural gates and alleys of the body; And, with a sudden vigour, it doth posset And curd, like eager droppings into milk, The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine”.[9] [9] _Hamlet_, act i., scene v. It has always been a matter of individual speculation and dispute as to the juice of what plant Shakespeare alludes to here as the “cursed hebenon”. The meaning of the word hebenon is ebony-coloured, or black, so that it might apply to any dark liquid. Most writers and commentators seem to be of opinion that henbane is alluded to, but judging from the rapid effect of the liquid, it would appear that some more powerful poison is intended. The juice of henbane is not a powerful poison, and it is but a feeble narcotic whose effects are mainly sedative and soothing. It acts also as a neurotic, affecting the brain and producing delirium. It will be seen that there is little similitude between the actual effect of henbane and that of the poison described by the poet. Others think it more probable that hemlock, an ancient poison of the Greeks, is intended. Its action is much more rapid and powerful, the spinal cord being chiefly affected, and paralysis caused, ending in death. The drug is a powerful narcotic and anodyne, and is also a paralysant. It was well known to the apothecaries of Shakespeare’s day, its poisonous properties having been observed from very early times. It should be taken into account, that as a matter of fact the pouring of any poisonous liquid of vegetable origin into the ear would have little or no immediate effect; and unless the tympanum had been ruptured it would be almost impossible for it to be absorbed into the system and at once prove fatal. Paris says: “Might not the juice of cursed hebenon by which, according to Shakespeare, the King of Denmark was poisoned, have been the essential oil of tobacco?” In the first place, the learned commentator Dr. Grey observes, that the word here used—hebenon—was more probably designated by a metathesis, either of the poet or transcriber, for henebon, _i.e._, henbane. Now, it appears from Gerade, the “tobaco” was commonly called henbane of Peru—_Hyoscyamus Peruvianus_; and when we consider how high the public prejudice ran against this herb in the reign of James, it seems not unlikely that Shakespeare should have selected it as an agent of extraordinary malignity. No preparation of _hyoscyamus_ with which we are acquainted would produce death by application to the ear, whereas the essential oil of tobacco might possibly have such an effect. The term “distilment,” says Stevens, “is calculated to support this conjecture. Surely the expression signifies that the preparation was the result of a distillation.” It is a singular fact that the essential oil of tobacco differs considerably in its physiological action from an infusion made from the leaves, the former affecting the brain, and the latter the heart.[10] [10] Paris, _Pharmacologia_, p. 294. Ellacombe states: “Before, and in the time of Shakespeare, other writers had spoken of the narcotic and poisonous effects of heben, hebenon, or hebona.” Spenser says:— “Faire Venus sonne,... Lay now thy deadly heben bow apart”. Gower and Marlowe also wrote of the juice of hebon. It may be taken for granted that all these authors allude to the same tree. Nicholson and Harrison, after a very exhaustive investigation of the subject, agree that the true reading is hebona, and that hebona is the yew. Their main arguments are based on the following three facts:— 1. That in nearly all the northern nations the name of the yew is more or less like heben. 2. That all the effects attributed by Shakespeare to the action of hebona are described by different medical writers as arising from yew poisoning. 3. That the _post-mortem_ appearances after yew poisoning and snake poisoning are similar. Later on, in the play performed before the King, Lucianus thus speaks of the poisonous medicine he uses:— “Thoughts break, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing, Confederate season, else no creature seeing, Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, With Hecate’s ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, Thy natural magic and dire property On wholesome life usurp immediately”. Here allusion is made to a mixture of poisonous herbs gathered at midnight, probably hemlock among others, as mentioned in the witches’ incantation in _Macbeth_, to which we shall refer later. With regard to the gathering of herbs at night, the practice was common, it being supposed that the properties of the plant collected at night were stronger than in the daytime. That there is a certain amount of truth in this is proved by the researches of Sachs and Brown, who have found from their investigations that starch is formed in the leaves of plants during the day, and is consumed during the night, so that the old superstition of the increased activity of the midnight gathered herb was not mythical. Shakespeare’s well-known description of the poor apothecary of his time, which he introduces in _Romeo and Juliet_, presents an excellent picture of the needy practitioner in the sixteenth century:— “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 scattered to make up a show”.[11] [11] _Romeo and Juliet_, act v., scene i. One can readily picture the poverty-stricken appearance of the dark little shop, littered and crowded with the stuffed skins of curious fishes and alligators. One can almost smell the close musty odour blended with the aromatic perfume of drugs and the old cakes of pressed rose leaves, the manner in which they were formerly preserved for medicinal purposes. The fashionably-dressed Romeo enters, after having made a considerable noise to rouse the attention of the old apothecary from his perchance much-needed repose, and offers his bribe for the poison. Of the purpose for which he requires it he makes little secret. “ROMEO. Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor; Hold, there is forty ducats; let me have A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear As will disperse itself through all the veins, That the life-weary taker may fall dead; And that the trunk may be discharged of breath As violently as hasty powder fir’d Doth hurry from the fatal cannon’s mouth.” The Apothecary’s reply:— “Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua’s law Is death to any he that utters them,” would show that Shakspeare’s idea of the law respecting the sale of poisons was a severe one, and much before his time. The law in England at that time as regards the selling of poisons was very lax. But for the poor apothecary the bribe was too tempting. Perchance he was hungry, and there is something pathetic in his rejoinder, “My poverty, but not my will, consents”. And giving Romeo the poison:— “Put this in any liquid thing you will, And drink it off; and, if you had the strength Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight”. The poet gives no indication of the nature of the poison beyond that its effect was very rapid, as when the distracted lover drinks to his lady love in the deadly draught he exclaims:— “O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.” In the early part of the sixteenth century the practice of the black art was carried on throughout England, mostly by old women, who also sold charms and love philtres. Shakespeare’s description of the witches’ incantations in _Macbeth_ presents some idea of a seance, and the gruesome articles in which they dealt. To know the properties of the most poisonous herbs (often quite fictitious) was part of their trade. “Round about the cauldron go; In the poison’d entrails throw. Toad, that under coldest stone, Days and nights hast thirty-one Swelter’d venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot. Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. “Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake; Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog, Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting, Lizard’s leg, and owlet’s wing, For a charm of powerful trouble; Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. “Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, Witch’s mummy, maw and gulf Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark; Root of hemlock, digg’d i’ the dark, Liver of blaspheming Jew; Gall of goat, and slips of yew, Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse; Nose of Turk and Tartar’s lips; Finger of birth-strangled babe, Ditch-delivered by a drab, Make the gruel thick and slab; Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron, For the ingredients of our cauldron. Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.” The method here used by the witches to measure the time that the cauldron should boil by singing their incantation is, according to Dr. Lauder Brunton, an ancient mode of calculating time still used in some parts of the country at the present day. By thus repeating several verses they could regulate the time of boiling fairly well. The old apothecaries used the moon as a method of calculating the time certain processes should take, and the word “menstruum,” still commonly used, was employed because certain drugs were allowed to macerate a month in the liquid to extract the active constituents. In the toad that had been lying under a stone for thirty-one days and nights, we have another curious instance how the empirical practitioners of mediæval times acted on a certain traditional knowledge, which modern science has since proved to be correct. We have again in the toad which has lain dormant for a month, the idea that it was the best time for his use, when his venom would be most active, besides the advantage also of catching him napping, when he would have no opportunity of getting rid of the poisonous principle contained in his skin. Dr. Lauder Brunton remarks with respect to this practice: “I remember reading as a child a story of how King John was poisoned by a friar who dropped a toad into his wine, but some books of natural history forty or fifty years ago scouted the idea of toads being poisonous at all. A little while ago, however, Dr. Leonard Guthie sent me an interesting account of a wicked Italian woman whose husband was dying of dropsy. He took so long about it that his wife became tired of the process, and thought that she would help him on. She accordingly caught a toad and put it in his wine, so that he should drink the liquid and die, but instead of dying he, to her astonishment and disgust, completely recovered. Forty years ago this story would have been scouted as equally mythical with that of King John, but now we know that it is precisely what the woman would have expected if she had only been acquainted with the researches of modern pharmacology. For the skin of a toad secretes a poison, the active principle of which, phrynin, has an action very much resembling that of digitalis, which is the remedy _par excellence_ for dropsy depending on heart disease.” Not less curious are the directions for gathering the poisonous hemlock at night, which has recently been shown to be the time of its greatest activity. These few instances show that the ancient apothecaries had often much greater knowledge than we give them credit for, and that some of the modern discoveries in modern science were well known to them, even if they could not account for them. In the _Taming of the Shrew_ allusion is made to the simples in vogue at the time for hurts and bruises. The lord’s directions for the treatment of Christopher Sly, who is found sleeping in the road on a cold night after a drinking bout, are curious:— “Balm his foul head with warm distilled waters, And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet”. The distilled aromatic waters, of which the apothecary manufactured a considerable number, were much used in the middle ages for the purpose of fomentation. The burning of sweet woods, such as aloe or sandal, to take away evil smells, was a very ancient practice. An old cure for melancholy is embodied in the following lines:— “Your honour’s players, hearing your amendment, Are come to play a pleasant comedy, For so your doctors hold it very meet: Seeing too much sadness hath congeal’d your blood, And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy, Therefore they thought it good you hear a play, And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life”. In _Measure for Measure_, the poet had evidently the dulcamara or bitter-sweet in mind when he penned the lines:— “I should not think it strange, for ’tis a physic That’s bitter to sweet end”. The dulcamara or bitter-sweet has the peculiar property, when first taken into the mouth, of imparting a bitter flavour which gradually changes to a sweet one, hence its name. The knowledge of drugs and herbs possessed by the noble dames and housewives is frequently mentioned by Shakespeare. The chatelaine of his time was well acquainted with the medicinal properties of all the simples and herbs, which she cultivated in her own garden. Her skill and experience were always at the service of her household and of dependants for miles around. The Queen, wife of Cymbeline, gives evidence of this in her conversation with Cornelius the physician:— “QUEEN. Whiles yet the dew’s on ground, gather those flowers; Make haste: who has the note of them? * * * * * Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs? “CORNELIUS. Pleaseth your highness, ay: here they are, madam (_presenting a small box_), But I beseech your grace, without offence— My conscience bids me ask—wherefore you have Commanded of me these most poisonous compounds, Which are the movers of a languishing death; But, though slow, deadly? “QUEEN. I do wonder, doctor, Thou ask’st me such a question. Have I not been Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learned me how To make perfumes, distil, preserve? yea, so, That our great king himself doth woo me oft For my confections? Having thus far proceeded (Unless thou think’st me devilish), is’t not meet That I did amplify my judgment in Other conclusions? I will try the forces Of these thy compounds on such creatures as We count not worth the hanging, but none human, To try the vigour of them, and apply Allayments to their act, and by them gather Their several virtues, and effects. “CORNELIUS. Your highness Shall from this practice but make hard your heart: Besides, the seeing these effects will be Both noisome and infectious. “QUEEN. Oh content thee. _Enter_ PISANIO. (_aside_) Here comes a flattering rascal; upon him Will I first work: he’s for his master, And enemy to my son. How now, Pisanio? Doctor, your service for this time is ended; Take your own way. “CORNELIUS. (_aside_) I do suspect you, madam, But you shall do no harm. I do not like her. She doth think she has Strange lingering poisons. I do not know her spirit, And will not trust one of her malice with A drug of such damn’d nature. Those she has Will stupify and dull the sense a while: Which first, perchance, she’ll prove on cats and dogs, Then afterwards up higher, but there is No danger in what show of death it makes, More than the locking up the spirits a time To be more fresh reviving. She is fool’d With a most false effect; and I the truer So to be false with her.”[12] [12] _Cymbeline_, scene vi. The caution of the physician is well described, and his resort to subterfuge in order to checkmate the evil design of his wily mistress and old pupil, whom he evidently distrusts. The Queen is supposed to have possessed considerable knowledge and skill in the use of drugs, and her conserves had evidently a great reputation. Her scientific ideas were in advance of the age she lived in when she states her desire to make physiological experiments on animals to advance her knowledge; but the clear acumen of Cornelius saw through the apparently laudable spirit of research that imbued his pupil, and he supplied her with drugs of less potency. The following allusions are made to the apothecary:— “CARDINAL BEAUFORT. Bid the apothecary Bring the strong poison that I bought of him.”[13] And again, in _Pericles, Prince of Tyre_, Cerimon says:— “Your master will be dead ere you return; There’s nothing can be minister’d to nature, That can recover him. Give this to the apothecary, And tell me how it works.”[14] [13] _Henry VI._, part iii., act ii., scene iii. [14] _Pericles_, act iii., scene ii. This lord of Ephesus was evidently something of an amateur physician, as he tells us later that “’Tis known I ever Have studied physic, through which secret art, By turning o’er authorities, I have (Together with my practice) made familiar To me and to my aid the blest infusions That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones; And can speak of the disturbances that nature Works, and of the cures; which doth give me A more content in course of true delight Than to be thirsty after tottering honour”. The lines— “One whose subdu’d eyes, Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicinal gum,”[15] spoken by Othello, refer to the manner in which many of the medicinal gums are collected in the East. Small slits or punctures are made in the bark of the tree, through which the semi-liquid gum slowly oozes. It then coagulates in the form of a tear, and is at length scraped off and collected. [15] _Othello_, act v., scene ii. “Set ratsbane by his porridge.”[16] [16] _King Lear_, act iii., scene iv. “I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with security.”[17] [17] _Henry IV._, part ii., act i., scene ii. “I would the milk Thy mother gave thee, when thou suck’dst her breast, Had been a little ratsbane for my sake.”[18] [18] _Henry VI._, act v., scene iv. Ratsbane, mentioned in the three preceding quotations, was an old name for arsenic, which in Shakespeare’s time was commonly used for poisoning rats, hence the name. “I have bought the oil, the balsamum, and aqua vitæ,”[19] says Dromio of Syracuse. These were the medical comforts for the barque of Epidamnum, and show that sailing vessels in those days carried a certain amount of medicine. The oil may have been one of the many panaceas of the time for “purging the body of bile or humour,” while balsams there were by the score, of Hungary, and aromatics for “wind and pain”. The _aqua vitæ_ alluded to was probably brandy, which would serve to keep the courage of the voyagers up and the cold out. [19] _Comedy of Errors_, act iv., scene i. Proteus, in the _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, exclaims:— “When I was sick you gave me bitter pills; And I must minister like to you”.[20] [20] _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, act ii., scene iv. In _Lucrece_ the bard shows he knew something of the counteracting effects of certain drugs from the following lines:— “The poisonous simple sometimes is compacted In a pure compound; being so applied, His venom in effect is purified”.[21] [21] _Lucrece_, v., 76. “KING HENRY. The united vessel of their blood, Mingled with venom of suggestion, As, for a purpose, the age will pour it in, Shall never leak, though it do work as strong As aconitum or rash gunpowder.”[22] [22] _King Henry IV._, part ii., act iv., scene iv. The aconite or monkshood, formerly called wolf’s bane, gives us one of the most powerful vegetable poisons, its properties having long been known and employed in medical practice. It was used by the early Greeks and Romans, and is probably even of still greater antiquity. On account of its rapid and deadly action, Shakespeare compares it to gunpowder. Some commentators are of the opinion that aconite was the poison sold by the apothecary to the lovesick Romeo. A curious old tradition is alluded to by Falstaff when speaking of the chamomile, in the following sentence:— “Though the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the sooner it wears”.[23] [23] _King Henry IV._, part i., act ii., scene iv. The chamomile has an ancient reputation for its medicinal properties as a stomachic and febrifuge. Its growth is said to be improved by being pressed or trampled into the earth. “SHALLOW. Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour, we will eat a last year’s pippin of my own graffing, with a dish of caraways and so forth.”[24] [24] _King Henry IV._, part ii., act v., scene iii. Carraway seeds were very largely used in Shakespeare’s time as a spice and condiment. The essential oil they yield has carminative properties. The seeds were often served with roast apples, a custom still said to be kept up at Trinity College, Cambridge. “IAGO. The food that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida.”[25] The coloquintida mentioned, is the old name for colocynth, a drug largely used in medicine at the present time. It was employed by the Greek and Roman physicians as a purgative, and was known in Britain as early as the eleventh century. It has a drastic, bitter taste, and is commonly known as bitter apple. [25] _Othello_, act i., scene iii. Shakespeare makes several allusions to the elder, a tree concerning which there are many old traditions. One of them will suffice. “HOLOFERNES. Begin, sir, you are my elder. “BIRON. Well followed; Judas was hanged on an elder.”[26] [26] _Love’s Labour’s Lost_, act v., scene ii. The _sambucus nigra_, or black elder, has long been used in medicine as a discutient, yet tradition gives it an evil name. Judas was supposed to have hanged himself on an elder tree, which doubtless brought it into disrepute, although its flowers distilled with water make an excellent cosmetic. “OPHELIA. There’s fennel for you and columbines.”[27] [27] _Hamlet_, act iv., scene v. This herb was greatly valued by the old apothecaries, and was known also to the ancients. There was an old belief that the fennel in flower predicted an early summer. Its chief use now is as a flavouring agent. Several allusions are also made to ginger. “CLOWN. I must have saffron to colour the warden pies; mace; dates—none, that’s out of my note; nutmegs, seven; a race or two of ginger, but that I beg.”[28] Ginger was known and used by the Greeks and Romans as a spice, and was esteemed by physicians in England at the time of the Norman Conquest. Its hot, burning taste is due to a resinous principle contained in the root, and is still used in medicine. [28] _Winter’s Tale_, act iv., scene iii. The mandrake or mandragora is frequently mentioned in the plays. Thus says “IAGO. Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrup of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou owedst yesterday.”[29] Also— “JULIET. And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth, That living mortals, hearing them, run mad,”[30] alluding to the old tradition that the mandrake groaned when pulled up by the roots, and the person who did it would surely die soon. The mandragora, to which wonderful properties were ascribed by the ancients, is not now used in medicine. [29] _Othello_, act iii., scene iii. [30] _Romeo and Juliet_, act iv., scene iii. “LAFEU. Go to, sir, you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a pomegranate.”[31] [31] _All’s Well that Ends Well_, act ii., scene iii. The medicinal properties of the pomegranate have been known from very ancient times, frequent mention of it being made in the Bible. A decoction of the root is recommended by Celsus, Dioscorides, and Pliny for tapeworm; and it is still used as an astringent. The poppy is mentioned by Iago in the quotation previously given, as being known for its narcotic properties. “MACBETH. What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug Would scour these English hence?”[32] [32] _Macbeth_, act v., scene iii. Rhubarb was known to the Chinese 2700 B.C., and has been used for its purgative properties from the earliest times. It is said to take its name from the river Rhu, now the Volga, on whose banks it grows. “PERDITA. For you there’s rosemary and rue; these keep Seeming and savour all the winter long; Grace and remembrance be to you both.”[33] [33] _Winter’s Tale_, act iv., scene iv. Rosemary has been esteemed for centuries for its refreshing and aromatic perfume, due to the essential oil it contains, and which even now has a reputation as an application for the hair. It is mentioned by Pliny, and has been cultivated in Britain since the time of the Norman Conquest. On account of its evergreen leaves it was considered an emblem of constancy, and was frequently carried at wedding and funeral ceremonies. It was customary in France at one time, to place a bunch of rosemary in the hands of the dead. The old apothecaries had great faith in the oil as an embrocation, and it was largely used to place among clothes as a preventive of moths. “OPHELIA. There’s rue for you; and here’s some for me: we may call it herb grace o’ Sundays: O, you must wear your rue with a difference.”[34] [34] _Hamlet_, act iv., scene v. Some curious traditions are attached to rue, or, as it was formerly called, the herb of grace, probably on account of its being often worn as an amulet to ward off disease, and also used by the old Romanists in the exorcisms. It has ever been regarded as a symbol of sorrow or pity, as its name implies. The word is probably derived from the same root as Ruth, meaning sorrow and remorse, while “to rue” was to be sorry for. In ancient times it was supposed to be useful for almost every disease, its properties being due to an essential oil still used in pharmacy. It was largely employed in affections of the eye and for its antiseptic properties as a preservative to ward off decay. The plant is not a native of England, but has been cultivated in this country for more than 800 years, and was extensively grown in the old herb gardens. Euphrasie and rue were often used together as a curative application for the eyes. In _Paradise Lost_ Milton says:— “Then purged with euphrasie and rue The visual nerve, for he has much to see”. Rue was employed also to take away warts, the freshly cut stem being rubbed over the excrescence, and the following couplet repeated:— “Ashen true, ashen tree, Pray bury these warts of me”. Another old rhyme runs:— “What savour is better, if physicke be true For places infected than wormwood or rue”. “CLOWN. I must have saffron to colour the warden pies.”[35] [35] _Winter’s Tale_, act iv., scene iii. Saffron was formerly much prized as a medicine, a condiment, and a dye. It is said to have been introduced into England in the reign of Edward III., and was cultivated in the neighbourhood of Walden, in Essex, to which it gave its name. The quality of English saffron was renowned in Shakspeare’s time. It was used by the monks in mediæval days in illuminating their missals, and dyeing materials, as well as being esteemed as a febrifuge and cordial. “MACBETH. What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug Would scour these English hence?”[36] [36] _Macbeth_, act v., scene iii. The well-known purgative properties of senna leaves were held in great repute by the old apothecaries. The drug was introduced into Europe about the ninth or tenth century by the Arabs, and it soon attained a reputable position in medical practice. The best variety was originally supposed to have been brought from Mecca. “ROSALINE. To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain.”[37] [37] _Love’s Labour’s Lost_, act v., scene ii. Wormwood has always had a high reputation as a medicine, and was chiefly used as a tonic. It yields an essential oil with an extremely bitter taste, which is yet largely used in France in the manufacture of absinthe. In one of his Sonnets, Shakespeare alludes to the old alembic of the alchemist in the following lines:— “What potions have I drunk of Syren tears, Distill’d from limbecks foul as hell within”. And in the following verse he deals with some theories of medical treatment:— “Like as to make our appetites more keen, With eager compounds we our palate urge; As, to prevent our maladies unseen, We sicken to shun sickness when we purge: Even so, being full of your ne’er-cloying sweetness, To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding, And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness To be diseas’d, ere that there was true needing. Thus policy in love, to anticipate The ills that were not, grew to faults assur’d, And brought to medicine a healthful state Which, rank of goodness, would by ill be cur’d. But thence I learn, and find the lesson true, Drugs poison him that so fell sick of you.”[38] [38] _Sonnets_, verses 118, 119.