the learned, I composed the history of _Gargantua_ and _Pantagruel_; for the ignorant, things which some call a cock and a bull, and others the product of a lively imagination. I know most men understand them as little as they do _Arabick_; and as it is not to our present purpose, so do not I intend to explain that stuff to them, but will now, since ’tis more _a propos_, give you some advice concerning the malady of your blustering monarch. The residence I made at the court of _France_, in the reign of _Francis_ I. makes me more bold in judging of the nature of those distempers. You conceal the virulency of _Lewis_ XIVth’s disease, because you dare not examine into the bottom of the cause, and are more modest in proposing remedies, than he has been in contracting the distemper. Yet every one talks according to his interest, and the news-mongers always keep a blank to set down the manner of his death. If he does not tremble, he must be thorow-pac’d in iniquity, for he has several reckonings to make up with Heaven, which are not so easily adjusted; and as he has often affronted the majesty of several popes, he will scarce obtain a pass-port to go scot-free into the other world. We are told here, by some of his good friends, he begins to putrify, and has ulcers a yard in length, where vermin, very soldier like, intrench themselves. There is no other remedy for this, according to old _Æsculapius_, but to make him a new man, by a severe penitential pilgrimage into some of the provinces of _Mercury_ and _Turpentine_. If he still fears the danger of war, let him go in disguise; and if at this age he cannot be without a she-companion, let him take his old friend _Maintenon_ along with him, she is poison-proof, and may, to save charges, serve him in three capacities, _viz._ as a bedfellow, nurse, and guide; keep him also to a strict diet; scrape his bones, and purge him thoroughly, and all may be found again but his conscience. You cannot imagine how merrily we gentlemen of the faculty live at _Pluto_’s court: I am secretary to the same _Paul_ III. who pardon’d me _gratis_ the violation of my vows, my irreverence for the church, and my want of respect for him; _Scaramouch_ is his gentleman-usher, _Harlequin_ his page, and _Scarron_ his poet laureat. Don’t suppose I was such a blockhead as to kiss his sweaty toe, when I visited him in the _Vatican_; he had nothing from me, but such an hypocritical hug, as your monks give each other at the ridiculous ceremony of high-mass. This old goat still keeps his amorous inclinations; and I, who have so often made others blush, am often asham’d to hear his ribaldry. He would certainly make love to _Proserpine_, but our sultan would not be pleas’d with his courtship; and besides, his seraglio is as well guarded as the grand seignior’s, otherwise we might have a litter of fine puppies betwixt them. Little hump-shoulder’d _Luxembourg_, lately mareschal of _France_,