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death have made.—Vespasian died in a jest upon his close stool—Galba with a sentence—Septimius Severus in a dispatch—Tiberius in dissimulation, and Cæsar Augustus in a compliment.—I hope, 'twas a sincere one—quoth my uncle Toby.
—'Twas to his wife,—said my father.
CHAP. IV.
—And lastly—for of all the choice anecdotes which history can produce of this matter, continued my father,—this, like the gilded dome which covers in the fabrick—crowns all.—
'Tis of Cornelius Gallus, the prætor—which I dare say, brother Toby, you have read.—I dare say I have not, replied my uncle.—He died, said my father, as * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *—And if it was with his wife, said my uncle Toby—there could be no hurt in it. —That's
