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 enough to make a grashopper. When the hepherd boy on Ida piped his heep down the withered patures, did he imagine that he hould carry off the fair bride of Sparta, as the prize of love? And what was Sir Anchies more than you? Yet he was preferred, by the fairet goddes in heaven, before the turdy god of war; and the mortal warrior dimounted the immortal leader of armies. Thus did the phyician philoophize away my orrows: his words ininuated themelves, with the moothnes of oil, into my boom; and, for me, they were more balamic and alutary than all the apothecary’s tores. Soon after my recovery I applied myelf to the old trade, and there were now ome igns as if fortune was in better humour. Theophratus became my boom friend, the confidant and broker of my amour. The fair Zoe eluded the vigilance of her pies, I was able to overleap the brazen walls of my former difficulties,