p. 30 (seq. 33)

30

Though they're the sport of wanton cruel power
And Hydra headed ills start up around
Till the last hope of a redress cut off
Their humane feelings, urge them to forbear,
And wait some milder means to bring relief.

Hateall. 'Tis now the time to try their daring tempers:
Send out a few-- and if they are cut off,
What are a thousand souls sent swiftly down
To Pluto's gloomy shades-- to tell in anguish
Half their compeers shall sit in Pandimonium
E'er we will suffer liberty to reign,
Or see her sons triumphant win the day.
I fain would push them to the last extreme,
To draw their swords against their legal King;
The short's the process to compleat destruction.

Secretary Dupe. Be not sanguine-- the day is not our own,
And much I fear it never will be won.
Their discipline is equal to our own,
Their valour has been try'd, and in a field
They're not less brave than are a Fred'rick's troops:
Their numbers formidable pour along
While virtue's banners shroud each warrior's head;
Stern justice binds the helmet on his brow
And liberty sits perch'd on ev'ry shield.
But who's apply'd, ask'd the General's aid,
Or wish'd his peaceful Villa such a curse,
As posting Troops beside the peasants cot?

General Meagre. None but the very dregs of all mankind,
The stains of nature,-- the blots of human race.
Yet that's no matter, still they are our friends,
'Twill help our projects if we give them aid.

Simple Sapling. Though my patermal acres are eat up,
My patrimony spent, I've yet an house
My lenient creditors let me improve;
Send up the Troops, 'twill serve them well for Barracks.
I some how think 'twould bear a noble sound
To have my mansion guarded by the King.

Sylla. Hast thou no sons or blooming daughters there,
To call up all the feelings of a father,
Least their young minds contaminate by vice,