ed._ Your ugly Face is an infallible Sign; your _Dysurie_, as the
_Arabicks_ call it, and your ill-favour'd Countenance, are constant
Relatives.

_All._ Constant, constant.

Sir _Cred._ Pray how do you eat, Sir?

Sir _Pat._ Ah, Sir, there's my distraction. Alas, Sir, I have the
weakest Stomach--I do not make above four Meals a-day, and then indeed I
eat heartily--but alas, what's that to eating to live?--nothing, Sir,
nothing.--

Sir _Cred._ Poor Heart, I pity him.

Sir _Pat._ And between Meals, good Wine, Sweet-meats, Caudles,--Cordials
and Mirabilises, to keep up my fainting Spirits.

Sir _Cred._ A Pox of his Aldermanship: an the whole Bench were such
notable Swingers, 'twould famish the City sooner than a Siege.

_Amst._ Brothers, what do you think of this Man?

_Leyd._ Think, Sir? I think his Case is desperate.

Sir _Cred._ Shaw, Sir, we shall soon rectify the quiblets and quillities
of his Blood, if he observes our Directions and Diet, which is to eat
but once in four or five days.

Sir _Pat._ How, Sir, eat but once in four or five days? such a Diet,
Sir, would kill me; alas, Sir, kill me.

Sir _Cred._ Oh no, Sir, no; for look ye, Sir, the Case is thus, do you
mind me--so that the Business lying so obvious, do ye see, there is a
certain Method, do ye mark me--in a--Now, Sir, when a Man goes about to
alter the course of Nature,--the case is very plain, you may as well
arrest the Chariot of the Sun, or alter the Eclipses of the Moon; for,
Sir, this being of another Nature, the Nature of it is to be unnatural,
you conceive me, Sir?--therefore we must crave your absence, Sir, for a
few Minutes, till we have debated this great Affair.

Sir _Pat._ With all my heart, Sir, since my Case is so desperate, a few
hours were not too much.
[Ex. Sir _Pat._

Sir _Cred._ Now, Sir, my service to you. [Drinks.

Enter _Fanny_.

_Fan._ Oh living heart! what do all these Men do in our House? sure they
are a sort of new-fashion'd Conventiclers:--I'll hear 'em preach.
[They drink round the while.

_Amst._ Sir, my service to you, and to your good Lady, Sir.

_Leyd._ Again to you, Sir, not forgetting your Daughters: they are fine
Women, Sir, let Scandal do its worst.
[Drinks.

_Turb._ To our better trading, Sir.

_Brun._ Faith, it goes but badly on, I had the weekly Bill, and 'twas a
very thin Mortality; some of the better sort die indeed, that have good
round Fees to give.

_Turb._ Verily, I h