Franklin.—Your reasonings grow very tiresome.
Gout.—I stand corrected. I will be silent and continue my office: take that, and that.
Franklin.—Oh! Ohh! Talk on, I pray you!
Gout.—No, no; I have a good number of twinges for you to-night, and you may be sure of some more to-morrow.
Franklin.—What, with such a fever! I shall go distracted. Oh! Eh! Can no one bear it for me?
Gout.—Ask that of your horses; they have served you faithfully.
Franklin.—How can you so cruelly sport with my torments?
Gout.—Sport? I am very serious. I have here a list of your offences against your own health distinctly written, and can justify every stroke inflicted on you.
Franklin.—Read it then.
Gout.—It is too long a detail; but I will briefly mention some particulars.