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Second Doctor. No docto rite quit fora quin si. Heris a plane sim tomo fit. Sorites Para celsus:

Præ re adit.

First Doctor. Nono Doctor I ne ver quo te aqua casu do.

Second Doctor. Sum arso: Mi autoris no ne.

Third Doctor. No quare lingat præ senti de si re His honor is sic offa Colli casure as I sit here.

Fourth Doctor. It is æther an atro phi ora colli casu sed: Ire membri re ad it in Doctor me ades Esse, here itis.

Third Doctor. I ne ver re ad apage in it, no re ver in tendit.

Second Doctor. Fer ne is offa qui te di ferent noti o nas i here.

ter,

First Doctor.

Notis ab ludi fluxit is veri plene. Second Doctor. I fitis a fluxit me re qui re ac lis

Third Doctor.

I

a ver his casis veneri alas i disco ver edit in as hanc cor; an da poli pus in his An di fit be as I cetis, ago no rea me en

nosce.

sue.

2d D. No, Doctor, I take it for a quinsey. Here is a plain symptom of it. So writes Paracelsus.-Pray read it. 1st D. No no, Doctor, I never quote a quack as you do. 2d D. Some are so; my author is none. 3d D. No quarelling at present, I desire. His honour is sick of a colic, as sure as I sit here.

4th D. It is either an atrophy, or a colic, as you said. member I read it in Doctor Mead's Essay; here it is. 3d D. I never read a page in it, nor ever intend it. 2d D. Ferne is of a quite different notion, as I hear. 1st D. No, 'tis a bloody flux, it is very plain. 2d D. If it is a flux, it may require a glyster.

3d D.

I re

I aver his case is venereal, as I discovered it in a shanker, and a polypus in his nose. And if it be as I say 'tis, a gonorrhoea may ensue.

First Doctor. It is ad ange rus casis ani. Fourth Doctor. I must tellure alitis ago uti humor in his Bel li. Hi sto macto is empti.

First Doctor. It me bea pluri si ; avo metis veri pro perfor a man at his age.

Second Doctor. Ure par donat præsanti des ire; His dis eas is a cata ride clare it.

Third Doctor. Atlas tume findit as tone in his quid ni es.

Fourth Doctor.

Itis ale pro si fora uti se.

Præ

hos his a poti cari; cantu tellus? Ab lis ter mne bene cessa risum de cens. Itis as ure medi in manicas

es.

Third Doctor.

I findit isto late tot hinc offa reme di; fori here his Honor is De ad. Second Doctor. His ti meis cum. First Doctor. Is it trudo ut hinc? Fourth Doctor. It is veri certa in. His Paris his Belli sto ringo ut foris de partu re.

1st D. It is a dangerous case as any.

4th D. I must tell you really, 'tis a gouty humour in his belly. His stomach, too, is empty.

1st D. It may be a pleurisy ; a vomit is very proper for a man at his age.

2d D. Your pardon at present I desire. His disease is a ca tarrh, I declare it.

3d D. At last, you may find it a stone in his kidnies.

4th D. It is a leprosy for aught I see. Pray, who's his apothecary, can't you tell us? A blister may be necessary some days hence. It is a sure remedy in many cases.

3d D. I find it is too late to think of a remedy; for I hear his honour is dead.

2d D. His time is come.

1st D. Is it true do you think?

4th D. It is very certain. His parish's bell is to ring out for his departure.

Third Doctor. Næ, i fis Ecce lens is de ad lætus en dum apri esto præ foris sole. His Honor has bina Cato liquor a de isti here.

First Doctor. Alor dis sum times as tingi as an usu reris.

Second Doctor. Api stolis alligo time a verbi mi at endans for a forte nite.

Third Doctor.

O mei ne vera tendo na nil ordi

nis sic nes ani more.

Fourth Doctor. Api stolis ne a quin in a nil ordo fis qua liti; sum pes fore times more.

fito a Doctor o fis hic.

Second Doctor.

It istos mala

Lætus paco fitis time.

First Doctor. Abigo ditis hi time, in de editis, forus alto fallas campe ringo fas fastas arato ut offa da iri; fori fera bea tinge veri minute: bimi solido. His lac quis, an das turdis aussi sto ut valet is re di forus.

Second Doctor. Ali feris ab ast in a do; fori here ano is at adis stans.

3d D. Nay, if his excellency is dead, let us send 'em a priest to pray for his soul. His honour has been a catholic or a deist, I hear.

1 D.

2d D.

A lord is sometimes as stingy as an usurer is.

a fortnight. 3d D.

any more.

A pistole is all I got, I may aver, by my attendance for

Oh, may I never attend on any lord in his sickness

4th D. A pistole is sneaking in any lord of his quality; some pays four times more. It is too small a fee to a doctor o' physic.

2d D. Let us pack off; it is time.

1st D. Ah, by God, it is time, indeed it is, for us all to fall a scampering off as fast as a rat out of a dairy; for I fear a beating every minute; by my soul I do. His lacqueys and a sturdy saucy stout valet is ready for us.

2d D. All I fear is a bastinado: for I hear a noise at a distance.

A LOVE SONG.

APUD in is almi de si re, *
Mimis tres I ne ver re qui re,
Alo veri findit a gestis.
His miseri ne ver at restis.

AN EPIGRAM.

Dic, heris agro at, an da quar to fine ale,†
Fora ringat ure nos, an da stringat ure tale.

TO SAMUEL BINDON, ESQ.

MOLLIS abuti, ‡

Has an acuti,
No lasso finis,
Molli divinis.

* A pudding is all my desire,
My mistress I never require,
A lover I find it a jest is,
His misery never at rest is.

+ Dick, here is a groat, and a quart o' fine ale,
For a ring at your nose, and a string at your tail.

Moll is a beauty,
Has an acute eye,
No lass so fine is,
Molly divine is.

Omi dearmis tres,

Imi na dis tres,

Cantu disco ver

Meas alo ver?

TO DR SHERIDAN.

[This gibberish is to be interpreted by a new arrangement of letters in each clause, when it resolves into what the Dean's postscript calls " as bad sense as you would desire." “I am an ass; O let me suck calf; O so I do in summer; O but I had mum in all I supt; Minim o' time is tiresome; writes of any tall lass; I buss 'em? O soberer. Nan, sit, sit a top. O Tom am I so dull, I a cully? I so agen? I a madman? I've a memory son. I'm a sinner. Tis a purt. Is a cap a cure; O covet it o' men, tire me not; 'tis a loss in time and tide. I'm in a musing mood; I am kneeling in mire. A, but I see none, so I get never a rap."

The Latin must be read backwards.

Emoveur aliquando paululum gravitate subjecti si habias me ex

cusatum.

October 12th 1723.
Saturni die.

ERUDITISSIME DOMINI,

Mi Sana, Telo me Flaccus; odioso ni mus rem. Tuba Dia pusilanimum: emit si erit mos minimo.

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