The foule mishap, yet sufferd patiently: How doe you then she cry’d? I’me glad ’tis up: Ah sick, sick, sick; cryes one, oh for a cup Of my mint water that’s at home. As patt as might be, then the Parson cry’d, ’Tis good; one holds her head, let’t come let’t come. Still crying; just i’th’ nick, the Priest reply’d, Yea like a streame you ought to let it flow, And then she reach’d and once more let it goe. Streight an old woman with a brace of chins, A bunch of keys, and cushion for her pins, Seeing in earnest, the good woman lack it [Sidenote: A very great Creature-comfort.] Drawes a strong water bottle from her placket; Well heated with her flesh, she take’s a sup, Then gives the sick, and bids her drink it up. [Sidenote: A great crie, and a little wooll.] But all in vain, her eyes begin to rowle, She sighs, and all cry out, alas poore soule! One then doth pinch her cheek, one pulls her nose Some blest the opportunity that were her foes, And they reveng’d themselves upon her face, S. _Dunstans_ Divell was ne’re in such a case. Now Priest say what thou wilt, for here’s a chat Begun of this great Empirick, and that Renowned Doctor, what cures they have done: I like not _Mayern_, he speaks French sayes one. Oh sayes another, though the man be big, For my part, I know none like Dr. _Trig_. Nay, hold you there sayes t’other, on my life There’s none like _Chamberlain_ the man midwife. Then in a heap, their own receipts they muster To make this gelly, how to make that plaster, Which when she heares, but that now fainting lay, Up starteth she, and talkes as fast as they. But they that did not mind this dolefull passion Followed their businesse on another fashion, For all did write, the Elder and the Novice, Me thought the Church look’t like the six Clerks office. But _Sermon’s_ done, and all the folks as fast As they can trudge, to Supper now make haste: Downe comes the Priest, when a grave Brother meets him, And putting off his narrow-brimm’d hat, thus greets him: Deare Sir, my Wife and I doe you invite [Sidenote: A great sign of grace.] O’ th’ Creature with us to partake this night: And now suppose what I prepare to tell ye, The City-dame, whose faith is in the belly Of her cramm’d Priest, had all her cares in order, That _Gracious-street_, or _Cheapside_ can afford her. Loe first a Pudding! truly ’t had more Reasons [Sidenote: Bill of fare.] Than forty Sermons shew at forty seasons. Then a Sur-loyne came in, as hot as fire, Yet not so hot as was the Priests desire. Next came a shoulder of Mutton rosted raw, To be as utterly abolishe as the Law. The next in order was a Capon plump,