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Updated: May 9, 2025
Not a drop of sweate trickeled downe my breast and my sides, but I dreamd it was a smooth edgde razor tenderly slicing down my breast and my sides. If any knockt at doore. I supposed it was the beadle of Surgeons Hall come for mee. In the night I dreamd of nothing but Phlebotomie, bloudy fluxes, incamatiues, running vlcers. I durst not let out a wheale for feare through it I should bleed to death.
Their clothes and sandels were passed in baskets of Palme trees. Passing this lake, stripped out of their clothes, there came many muskitos, vpon whose bitting there arose a wheale that smarted very much: they strooke them with their hands, and with the blow which they gaue they killed so many, that the blood did runne downe the armes and bodies of the men.
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