Quacksalver

[F]ree me from thoſe outward encumbrances of cares that over-whelme mee, and let this paraliticke quackſalver fill ten thouſand tunnes with ſcelerata ſinapis, ſhrewiſh ſnappiſh muſtard, as Plautus calls it, […]

Wid[ow]. Why, Man's Life is but a Flower, Mr. Jolly, and the Flower withers, and Man withers, as Mr. Knock-down obſerv'd laſt Sabbath-day at Evening Exerciſe: But, Neighbour, you're paſt the Flower, you've grown old as well as I— / Jol[ly]. I'the very Flower; that damn'd Quack-ſalver—

"My fortune," said the Duke, "is too vast to be hurt by a petty wound; and I have, as thou knowest, a thousand salves in store for the scratches and scars which it sometimes receives in greasing my machinery." / "Your Grace does not mean Dr Wilderhead's powder of projection?" / "Pshaw! he is a quacksalver and mountebank."

“I come before you, ladies and gentlemen, […] to introduce to you what I call my Elixir Anthropos— […]” […] [H]e listened intently to the quack-salver’s address, and from time to time his eyes would twinkle and his lips curve in an ironic smile.

One is reminded of a familiar figure of medieval fairs, who survived long in this country [England], and perhaps still survives in remote districts—the quacksalver who hawks his infallible remedies from a wagon.

Charlatans and quacksalvers treated the sick and dying and peddled medicines to keep one healthy but operated under no license to do so. […] Though often tarred as frauds, their methods often differed little from those of the professionals.