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'What's to be done? (poor Carvel cried)
Another battery must be tried:
What if to spells I had recourse?
"Tiş but to hinder something worse.
The end must justify the means;
He only sins who ill intends:

Since, therefore, 'tis to combat evil,
"Tis lawful to employ the devil.'
Forthwith the devil did

appear,

(For name him, and he's always near)
Not in the shape in which he plies
At miss's elbow when she lies,
Or stands before the nursery doors,
To take the naughty boy that roars;
But, without saucer eye or claw,
Like a grave barrister at law.

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Hans Carvel, lay aside your grief, (The devil says); I bring relief.'

Relief!' (says Hans); pray let me crave Your name, sir?'- Satan.'-'

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I did not look upon your feet;

Sir, your

You'll pardon me-Ay, now I see't.

slave.

And pray, sir, when came you from hell?
Our friends there, did you leave them well?'
'All well; but, pr'ythee, honest Hans,
(Says Satan) leave your complaisance :
The truth is this; I cannot stay
Flaring in sunshine all the day,
For, entre nous, we hellish sprites
Love more the fresco of the nights,
And oftener our receipts convey
In dreams, than any other way.
I tell you, therefore, as a friend,
Ere morning dawns your fears shall end:

Go then this evening, Master Carvel,
Lay down your fowls, and broach your
Let friends and wine dissolve your care,
Whilst I the great receipt prepare-
To-night I'll bring it, by my faith ;
Believe for once what Satan saith.'
Away went Hans; glad not a little;
Obey'd the devil to a tittle:

Invited friends some half a dozen,

The Colonel and my Lady's cousin.

barrel;

The meat was served, the bowls were crown'd, Catches were sung, and healths went round; Barbadoes' waters for the close;

Till Hans had fairly got his dose:

The Colonel toasted, to the best;
The Dame moved off to be undress'd:

The chimes went twelve; the guests withdrew;
But when, or how, Hans hardly knew:

Some modern anecdotes aver

He nodded in his elbow-chair;

From thence was carried off to bed;
John held his heels, and Nan his head;
My Lady was disturb'd; new sorrow!
Which Hans must answer for to-morrow.
In bed then view this happy pair,
And think how Hymen triumph'd there:
Hans, fast asleep, as soon as laid,
The duty of the night unpaid;

The waking Dame, with thoughts oppress'd,
That made her hate both him and rest:
By such a husband, such a wife!
"Twas Acme's and Septimius' life:
The lady sigh'd; the lover snored;
The punctual devil kept his word;

Appear'd to honest Hans again,
But not at all by Madam seen;
And giving him a magic ring,
Fit for the finger of a king,

'Dear Hans, (said he) this jewel take,
And wear it long for Satan's sake;
"Twill do your business to a hair ;
For long as you this ring shall wear,
As sure as I look over Lincoln,

That ne'er shall happen which you think on.'
Hans took the ring with joy extreme,
(All this was only in a dream)

And thrusting it beyond his joint,

"Tis done, (he cried); I've gain'd my point.'— • What point, (said she) you ugly beast?

You neither give me joy nor rest.'

"Tis done,'-' What's done, you drunken bear? You've thrust your finger

knows where!'

Prologues and Epilogues,

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PROLOGUE

SPOKEN BY LORD BUCKHURST,

In Westminster-School, at Christmas, 1695, in the Character of Cleonidas, in Mr. Dryden's Cleomenes.

RL
B

PISH; Lord, I wish this Prologue was but Greek,
Then young Cleonidas would boldly speak:
But can Lord Buckhurst in poor English say,
Gentle Spectators, pray excuse the play?
No, witness all ye gods of ancient Greece,
Rather than condescend to terms like these,
I'd go to school six hours on Christmas-day,
Or construe Persius while my comrades play.
Such work by hireling actors should be done,
Who tremble when they see a critic frown:
Poor rogues, that smart like fencers for their bread,
And, if they are not wounded, are not fed.

But, sirs, our labour has more noble ends,

We act our tragedy to see our friends:
Our generous scenes are for pure
love repeated,
And if you are not pleased, at least you're treated.
The candles and the clothes ourselves we bought,
Our tops neglected, and our balls forgot.
To learn our parts we left our midnight bed;
Most of you snored whilst Cleomenes read:

Not that from this confession we would sue
Praise undeserved; we know ourselves and you:
Resolved to stand or perish by our cause,
We neither censure fear, nor beg applause,
For these are Westminster and Sparta's laws.
Yet if we see some judgment well inclined,
To young desert and growing virtue kind,
That critic by ten thousand marks should know
That greatest souls to goodness only bow;
And that your little hero does inherit
Not Cleomenes' more than Dorset's spirit.

PROLOGUE

SPOKEN AT COURT BEFORE THE QUEEN,

ON HER MAJESTY'S BIRTH-DAY,

1704.

SHINE forth, ye planets, with distinguish'd light,
As when ye hallow'd first this happy night;
Again transmit your friendly beams to earth,
As when Britannia joy'd for Anna's birth:
And thou, propitious star, whose sacred power
Presided o'er the monarch's natal hour,
Thy radiant voyages for ever run,

Yielding to none but Cynthia and the Sun;
With thy fair aspect still illustrate heaven,
Kindly preserve what thou hast greatly given;
Thy influence for thy Anna we implore;
Prolong one life, and Britain asks no more;
For Virtue can no ampler power express,
Than to be great in war and good in peace:

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