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How some Quacks undertook to cure Mrs.Bull of her ulcer.*.
There is nothing so impossible in Nature but mountebanks will undertake; nothing so incredible but they will affirm: Mrs.Bull's condition was looked upon as desperate by all the men of art; but there were those that bragged they had an infallible ointment and plaister, which being applied to the sore, would cure it in a few days; at the same time they would give her a pill that would purge off all her bad humours, sweeten her blood, and rectify her disturbed imagination.

In spite of all applications the patient grew worse every day; she stunk so, nobody durst come within a stone's throw of her, except those quacks who attended her close, and apprehended no danger.

If one asked them how Mrs.Bull did?
Better and better, said they; the parts heal, and her constitution mends: if she submits to our government she will be abroad in a little time.

Nay, it is reported that they wrote to her friends in the country that she should dance a jig next October in Westminster Hall, and that her illness had been chiefly owing to bad physicians.