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Let Rufus weep, rejoice, stand, sit, or walk, Still he can nothing but of Noevia talk; Let him eat, drink, ask questions, or dispute, Still he must speak of Noevia, or be mute. He writ to his father, ending with this line, I am, my lovely Noevia, ever thine. No. 114. Paupertalis pudor & fuga. HOR. Ep. xviii. 1. I. v. 24. The dread of nothing more Than to be thought necessitous and poor.
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