Bless us! --what noble work we should make! ----how should I tickle it off! ----and what spirits should I find myself in, to be writing away for such readers! ----and you--just heaven! ----with what raptures would you sit and read--but oh! --'tis too much ----I am sick ----I faint away deliciously at the thoughts of it--'tis more than nature can bear! --lay hold of me ----I am giddy --I am stone blind --I'm dying --I am gone. --Help! Help! Help! --But hold --I grow something better again, for I am beginning to foresee, when this is over, that as we shall all of us continue to be great wits--we should never agree amongst ourselves, one day to an end: ----there would be so much satire and sarcasm----scoffing and flouting, with raillying and reparteeing of it--thrusting and parrying in one corner or another----there would be nothing but mischief among us ----Chaste stars! what biting and scratching, and what a racket and a clatter we should make, what with breaking of heads, rapping of knuckles, and hitting of sore places--there would be no such thing as living for us.

Bless us! what noble work we should make! - what spirits should I find myself in, to be writing for such readers! - and you - with what raptures would you read!
Oh! 'tis too much - I faint away deliciously at the thoughts of it - 'tis more than nature can bear! I am giddy - I'm dying - I am gone. Help! Help! Help!
But hold - I am coming round again, for I foresee that as we shall all of us be great wits, we should never agree amongst ourselves; there would be so much satire and sarcasm - scoffing and flouting - thrusting and parrying - there would be nothing but mischief among us. What biting and scratching, and what a racket and a clatter we should make, what breaking of heads and rapping of knuckles!
