f the earlier half of the century had
almost decimated the population, so that, especially in the upper
classes, an old man was rarely to be seen, and when also human life was
usually shorter than in later times, sixty was the equivalent of eighty
or ninety with us, while seventy was as wonderful as we think a hundred.
King Edward was in his second childhood when he died at sixty-five;
while "old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster," scarcely passed his
fifty-ninth birthday.

"Is she sick?" said Amphillis, pityingly. She had not seen her mistress
for several days, for her periods of attendance on her were fitful and
uncertain.

"She is very sick, and Father Jordan hath tried his best."

The household doctor at that time, for a country house, was either the
mistress of the family or the confessor. There were few medical men who
were not also priests, and they only lived in chief cities. Ladies were
taught physic and surgery, and often doctored a whole neighbourhood. In
a town the druggist was usually consulted by the poor, if they consulted
any one at all who had learned medicine; but the physicians most in
favour were "white witches," namely, old women who dealt in herbs and
charms, the former of which were real remedies, and the latter
heathenish nonsense. A great deal of superstition mixed with the
practice of the best medical men of the day. Herbs must be gathered
when the moon was at the full, or when Mercury was in the ascendant;
patients who had the small-pox must be wrapped in scarlet; the
blood-stone preserved its wearer from particular maladies; a hair from a
saint's beard, taken in water, was deemed an invaluable specific. They
bled to restore strength, administered plasters of verdigris, and made
their patients wait for a lucky day to begin a course of treatment.

"He hath given her," pursued Perrote, sorrowfully, "myrrh and milelot
and tutio [oxide of zinc], and hath tried plasters of diachylon,
litharge, and ceruse, but to no good purpose. He speaketh now of
antimony and orchis, but I fear--I fear he can give nothing to do any
good. When our Lord saith `Die,' not all the help nor love in the world
shall make man live. And I think her time is come."

"O Mistress Perrote! must she die without deliverance?"

"Without earthly deliverance, it is like, my maid. Be it so. But, ah
me, what if she die without the heavenly deliverance! She will not list
me: she never would. If man would come by