A noble peeress, that lives not full a hundred miles from St. _James_’s square, in the sixty sixth year of her age, was seiz’d with a _furor uterinus_; by plying her ladyship with a few drops of my _Antepyretical Essence_, extracted from a certain vegetable gathered under the artic pole, and known to no body but myself, I perfectly allay’d this preternatural ferment; and now she lies at quiet, tho’ both her hands are unty’d as a new swaddled babe, and handles no rascals but _Pam_, and his gay fellows of the cards. _Honoraria Frail_, eldest daughter to my old lady _Frail_ of _Red-Lyon-Square_, by too prodigally distributing _les dernieres feveurs_ to her mother’s sandy pated coachman and pages, had so strangely dilated the gates _du citadel d’amour_, that one might have marched a regiment of dragoons thro’ them. Her mother, who was in the greatest perplexities imaginable upon the score of this disaster, sent to consult me: With half a dozen drops of my _Aqua Styptica_, _Hymenealis_, I so contracted all the avenues of the aforesaid citadel, that the _Yorkshire_ knight that marry’d her, spent above a hundred small-shot against the walls, and bombarded the fortress a full fortnight before he cou’d enter it; and now they are the happiest couple within the bills of mortality. I renewed the youth from the girdle downwards of madam _de Maintenon_, so that she afforded all the delights imaginable, to her old grand lover in imagination, and to the younger bigots and herself in reality: while her face still remain’d as great an object of mortification as her beads, death’s-head, and discipline; and this noble cure still remains to be view’d by all the world. _Harry Higden_ of the _Temple_, counsellor, was so miserably troubled with the long vacation disease, or the _defectus crumenæ_, that the sage benchers of the house threatned to padlock his chamber door for non-payment of rent. He asked my advice in this exigence: I, who knew the full strength of his furniture, which consisted of a rug, two blankets, a joint-stool, and a tin-candlestick, that served him for a piss-pot when revers’d, counselled him to take his door off the hinges, and lock it up in his study. He followed my advice, and by that means escaped the abovemention’d ostracism of the padlock. _Margaret Cheatly_, bawd, match-maker, and mid-wife of _Bloomsbury_, by immoderate drinking of strong-waters, had got a nose so termagantly rubicund, that she out-blazed the comet: my cosmetic _Florentine-unguent_, absolutely reform’d this inflammation, and now she looks as soberly as a dissenting minister’s goggle-ey’d convenience.