"I do remember an apothecary,--
And hereabouts he dwells,--whom late I noted
In tattered weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples (herbs). Meagre were his looks;
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuffed, and other skins
Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds;
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scattered to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said,--
'An' if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.'
* * * * *
What, ho! apothecary!
_Apothecary._ Who calls so loud?
_Romeo._ Come hither, man! I see that thou art poor.
Hold! There is forty ducats! [$80.] Let me have
A dram of poison.
_Apoth._ Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua's law
Is death to any he that utters them.
_Rom._ Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness,
And fear'st to die? Famine is on thy cheeks;
Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes;
Upon thy back hangs ragged misery;
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law;
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
_Apoth._ My poverty, but not my will, consents."
When we behold the opulent druggists of the present day, we can hardly
credit the fact that for nearly two hundred years the apothecary of Mantua
was a fair specimen of the wretches who represented that now important
branch of business.
The physician was the master, the apothecary the slave!
The following were among the rules prescribed by Dr. Bullyn for the
"apothecary's life and conduct" during the Elizabethan era:--
"1. He must serve God, be clenly, pity the poore.