Cris.  O—!

Tib.  How now, Crispinus?  C

Cris.  O, I am sick—!

Hor.  A bason, a bason, quickly; our physic works.  Faint not, man.

Cris.  O------retrograde------reciprocal------incubus.

Caes.  What’s that, Horace?

Hor.  Retrograde, reciprocal, and incubus, are come up.

Gal.  Thanks be to Jupiter!

Cris.  O------glibbery------lubrical------defunct-

-----O------!

Hor.  Well said; here’s some store.

Virg.  What are they?

Hor.  Glibbery, lubrical, and defunct.

Gal.  O, they came up easy.

Cris.  O------O------!

Tib.  What’s that?

Hor.  Nothing yet.

Cris.  Magnificate------

Mec.  Magnificate!  That came up somewhat hard.

Hor.  Ay.  What cheer, Crispinus?

Cris.  O!  I shall cast up my------spurious------snotteries------

Hor.  Good.  Again.

Oris.  Chilblain’d------O------O------clumsie------

Hor.  That clumsie stuck terribly.

Mec.  What’s all that, Horace?

Hor.  Spurious, snotteries, chilblain’d, clumsie.

Tib.  O Jupiter!

Gal.  Who would have thought there should have been such a deal of filth in a poet?

Cris.  O------balmy froth------

Caes.  What’s that?

Cris.------Puffie------inflate------turgidious-------ve

ntosity.

Hor.  Balmy, froth, puffie, inflate, turgidous, and ventosity are come up.

Tib.  O terrible windy words.

Gal.  A sign of a windy brain.

Cris.  O------oblatrant------furibund------fatuate

------strenuous---

Hor.  Here’s a deal; oblatrant, furibund, fatuate, strenuous.

Caes.  Now all’s come up, I trow.  What a tumult he had in his belly?

Hor.  No, there’s the often conscious damp behind still.

Cris.  O------conscious------damp.

Hor.  It is come up, thanks to Apollo and AEsculapius:  another; you were best take a pill more.

Cris.  O, no; O------O------O------O------O!

Hor.  Force yourself then a little with your finger.

Cris.  O------O------prorumped.

Tib.  Prorumped I What a noise it made! as if his spirit would have prorumpt with it.

Cris.  O------O------O !

Virg.  Help him, it sticks strangely, whatever it is.

Cris.  O------clutcht

Hor.  Now it is come; clutcht.

Caes.  Clutcht! it is well that’s come up; it had but a narrow passage.

Cris.  O------!

Virg.  Again! hold him, hold his head there.

Cris.  Snarling gusts------quaking custard.

Hor.  How now, Crispinus?

Cris.  O------obstupefact.

Tib.  Nay, that are all we, I assure you.

Hor.  How do you feel yourself?

Cris.  Pretty and well, I thank you.