University of Virginia Library

Fab. XXVIII. The Blind Woman and her Doctors.

A wealthy Matron now grown old
Was weak in e'ery part;
Afflicted sore with Rhumes and Cold,
Yet pretty sound at Heart.
But most her Eyes began to fail,
Depriv'd of needful light:
Nor cou'd her Spectacles avail
To rectify their Sight.
Receipts she try'd, she Doctors fee'd,
And spar'd for no Advice
Of Men of Skill, or Quacks for need
That practise on sore Eyes.
Salves they dawb'd on, and Plaisters both,
And this, and that was done:

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Then Flannels, and a Forehead-cloth,
To bind and keep them on.
Her House, tho small, was furnish'd neat,
And e'ery Room did shine
With Pictures, Tapestry, and Plate,
All Rich, and wondrous fine.
Whilst they kept blind the silly Soul,
Their hands found work enough,
They pilfer'd Plate, and Goods they stole,
Till all was carry'd off.
When they undamm'd their Patients Eyes,
And now pray how's your Sight?
Crys t'other, this was my advice,
I knew 'twou'd set you right.
Like a stuck Pig the Woman star'd,
And up and down she run:
With naked House, and Walls, quite scar'd,
She found her self undone.
Doctors, quoth she, your Cure's my pain,
For what are Eyes to me?
Bring Salves and Forehead-Cloths again,
I've nothing left to see.