One of the most extraordinary medicines of this, or of any age, was without doubt that known as Venice Treacle. In 1651, Sir Ralph Verney was in Venice, and the Memoirs furnish the following graphic account of this terrible drug, which was a concoction of the most disgusting materials. Sir Ralph sends it to Mrs. Isham, for her family medicine chest, and says "hee that is most famous for Treacle is called Sig{r} Antonio Sgobis, and keepes shopp at the Strazzo, or Ostridge, sopra il ponte de'Baretteri, on the right hand going towards St. Mark's. His price is 19 livres (Venize money) a pound, and hee gives leaden Potts with the Ostridge signe uppon them, and Papers both in Italian and Lattin to show its virtue." "This celebrated and incredibly nasty compound," adds Lady Verney, "traditionally composed by Nero's physician, was made of vipers, white wine, and opium, 'spices from both the Indies,' liquorice, red roses, tops of germander, juice of rough aloes, seeds of treacle mustard, tops of St. John's wort, and some twenty other herbs, to be mixed with honey 'triple the weight of all the dry species' into an electuary." The recipe is given as late as 1739, in Dr. Quincey's "English Dispensatory," published by Thomas Longman, at the Ship in Paternoster Row. "Vipers are essential, and to get the full benefit of them 'a dozen vipers should be put alive into white wine.' The English doctor, anxious for the credit of British vipers, proves that Venice treacle may be made as well in England, 'though their country is hotter, and so may the more rarify the viperime juices'; yet the bites of our vipers at the proper time of year, which is the hottest, are as efficacious and deadly as them. But he complains that the name of Venice goes so far, that English people 'please themselves much with buying a Tin Pot at a low price of a dirty sailor ... with directions in the Italian tongue, printed in London,' and that some base druggists 'make this wretched stuff of little else than the sweepings of their shops.' Sir Ralph could pride himself that his leaden pots contained the genuine horror. It was used as 'an opiate when some stimulus is required at the same time'; an overdose was confessedly dangerous, and even its advocates allowed that Venice treacle did not suit everyone, because, forsooth, 'honey disagrees with some particular constitutions.'" For centuries this medical "horror" was taken by our drastically treated forefathers.