I do remember an apothecary, And hereabouts 'a dwells, which late I noted In tatt'red weeds, with overwhelming brows, Culling of simples. 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.
