SCENE I. A view of Tartarus, as described in the Pantheon.

Oh, what an infernal, diabolical concert is here! And pray, good Mr. Devil, having lugged me through the sea like a drowning rat, precipitated me like a bullet out of a culverin, from the Antipodes to the borders of Acheron, to dry me; flown with me over the Styx, and introduced me to his infernal majesty in the copper-coloured jacket! what's to be done next?

The devil, I must! what, like a potatoe in a tar kettle, I suppose? And pray, what have I done to merit so much honour?

Why, to be sure, I did make a sort of a fool­ish promise, that if his diabolical highness would suffer me to leap and skip about, turn men into jack asses, and rocks and trees into dancing devils, I would finish my career by paying a visit to his gloomy majesty's hellish dominions, but I did not expect to be sent for so soon, nor to be treated with so elegant an entertain­ment when I arrived.

A very courteous introduction, upon my word; and pray, who compose this happy assembly, among whom I am to have the felicity of sitting as a member? That gemman, and his vulture, for instance.

A good pleasant situation; why, if it was not for your tail, and your hoofs, I should take you for the man describing the tombs in Westminster Abby; what, the old ones have been all relieved, I suppose at a li­mitted time?

Ah, I understand you; I wish I was fairly out of your clutches; and pray, who have we on that wheel in the place of Ixion?

A judicious punishment enough, but I suppose sometimes attended with inconvenience, for if you roast all who cheat their nation, you must very often be damnably put to it for spits. Now for those in the place of Sysiphus and Tantalus, a pleasant amusement that of rolling a stone up a hill, and never reaching the top of it; or the other gentleman's entertainment of having so many delicacies close to his hand, with­out being able to touch one of them.

It is indeed!—who but the devil could in­vent a punishment for an Alderman equal to setting him to a delicious dinner, and conveying every thing away before he had time to put the napkin under his chin. Now for a description of the ladies at that labour-in-vain amusement of emptying a well with sieves, and the gentleman under that tremendous rock, and I have done.

Another amusement in your stile.

Boiled or roasted? I'cod, I like either when the meat's tender.

Nay, now, but zounds, you would not be so damn'd unmerciful, would ye? Ah!

My dear friend, how much I am obliged to you! if you had not come as you did, Oh! I should have been skewer'd upon that damn'd spit like a trussed rabbit.

How devilish merry you are, all of you! you forget that your torments are to-morrow to begin again. Oh that infernal spit! I shall never be able to bear the fight of roast meat again: but come, 'tis no time to talk; we are unchained, and unguarded, and let us seize this favourable opportunity to make our escape.

Oh, Lord! I am no stranger to the tremen­dous race of Cerberus; we have a tolerable number of them upon earth; yet I never heard but that the greatest snarler of them all might be occasionally quiet­ed with a sop; the question therefore is, will you fol­low me, and escape; or stay here, and be roasted.

SCENE, The entrance into Tartary and Elysium. The court of Minos concealed by a curtain. A croud of spirits are discovered.

If it be true that hell's broke loose, how comes the court to sit? 'Tis a general goal-delivery.

Yes; but every spirit does not chuse to take the benefit of the act. For my part, I've been a practitioner in the law; I know there is a flaw in my indictment, and I shall appeal to the bench of Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanthus.

Stand by; make way.

These are the prisoners; 'tis a full calen­dar. Pray, Sir, what distemper sent you into this world?

That's more than I can tell you, friend; I left three physicians disputing about it, while the breath slipped out of my body.

Under favour, Sir, how came the world to be deprived of your good company?

Sir, I died of honour.

Of honour!

Yes, Sir. I had picked up about three thousand pounds at a certain club, and was just making off with my booty, when a gentleman in company de­tecting a die in my sleeve, called me out and killed me in a duel.

I did, indeed, you scoundrel. And to see how partial these same laws of honour are! the halter you ought to have been throttled with has sent me out of the world after you.

How now, messmate, is the court martial sitting?

The judges are assembled.

Be it so. Every man who founders upon death's lee-shore must be tried for the loss of his vessel, though 'tis the fate of us all in our turns.

Stand by, Madam, why do you press to the bar in such haste?

Give me a hearing, friend, I shall be un­grateful.

Oh, Madam, no bribing here; the poor have precedence in this world, to recompence them for their lot in the other.

Call up that Negro man to the bar.

O deary me! O deary me! what shall Black say for himself when white man sit in judgment?

Fear nothing, tell your story.

O! Negar man tell no story; me do my pos­sible for Massa; me hole his canes; me fetch de bundle of grass every night for de mools; me work dam hard; and yet, Massa, Heaven forgive him, strip, and whip, and cut, poor Negro man all to piece.

Horrible barbarity! advance that spirit to the pleasures of Elysium. What have we hero, a whole ship's company! Clear the bar; who are you?

British hearts, so please your Reverence, we died for the honour of old England; we are brave ship's crew, served under a brave admiral, and met a brave death.

Sling a cot for these brave fellows in the finest citron grove in Elysium.

Please your Worship to flow these honest lads alongside of me. I should like to cuff a cann, and talk over matters with my messmates.

Brother, are you content?

We are content, let them pass.

What man is that?

I am a poor man, Sir, and I was hanged for stealing eighteen pence; but I have done some good things, for I supported an aged parent, was a very tender husband, a kind father, and ruined myself by being bail for a friend.

Pray, man, don't stand trumpeting forth your virtues in this manner; get thee into Elysium. What strange gortesque figure have we here?

Indeed, Mister Punch, I think the world would be too splenetic, if they were deprived of you; I would therefore advise you to take a trip back again.

What noise is that?

The infernals are making merry.

Od so! upon this joyful occasion, Proserpine has invited me to an elegant fete-champetre in Ely­sium, and she'll be angry to the last degree if I should exceed my appointment; so, d'ye hear, all the rest may have leave to go back again to earth guilty or not guilty.

SCENE, The entrance into hell. A view of the Styx and the opposite shore, &c.

Zounds, I have fought like a lion! Now, if I can but find any method to coax over master Charon. Why, what; is it possible! Punch, art thou here?

My dear old friend, I'll be thy fellow travel­ler: but stay, I am afraid here's somebody coming to stop our journey; follow me as hard as ever you can drive.

Let us know what it is however; any thing is better than being spitted.

This is a respite only, and not a pardon. A girl of sixteen years old, who has never even wished to be married; I would sooner undertake to find a white crow.

No, no—no—no—I did not mean that. Zounds, you are too hasty: no, damn it; six months are better than nothing. A virgin in thought, word and deed! but how am I to find her out? for they are plenty enough, if you'll take their words for it.

SCENE I. The Antipodes.

At length, my dear friend Punch, we are ar­rived at the antipodes. See what a number of strange figures are yonder.

Well, we can give a good account of our­selves, that's one thing. Tell them we are ambassa­dors from the devil, and ask them who they are, and what they are about.

I am mighty curious to know something of their customs and manners; but they are such a devilish way off there's hardly any hearing them; and if we go head-foremost among them, we shall make a develish clatter among their bottles and glasses; and in the mean time let us have some conversation with them. Ask that gentleman in black who he is.

You must certainly be mistaken in the name, Punch, or they have given it him by way of burlesque. Ask him if he has fattened well lately upon the widow and fatherless.

Yes, yes, this is the world turned upside down, sure enough. I wonder who that thin gentle­man is.

I wish I could see the example imitated. Ma­ster Punch will you entreat that lady to tell us who she is?

Lord! Lord! what a monster such a kind of animal would appear in our upper regions! But there's one thing I admire prodigiously; with two words they express a whole sentence: but I suppose as they differ from us in every thing else, so they do in that parti­cular; and as we often say a great deal without ex­pressing any thing, so every thing they say or do is to the purpose. If one could but import this secret, what a wonderful deal of unnecessary haranguing it would save in some certain assemblies! Well, I long to be among them. But, how the devil shall we get there, for I can't walk upon my hands?

SCENE, A rural prospect in the midst of Winter.

Oh, Punch, how devilish cold it is! The isicles hang on the trees like so many ropes of onions, and the ground is as hoary as an old hermit. I would fain try this same glass, but 'tis such perishing wea­ther the females can't venture out; but I am afraid when they do, 'twill be to little purpose, for even the antipodes could not furnish a girl of sixteen years old who had never wished to he married. By the way, there's a people for you, Punch.

If it was not so immoderately cold, I should be ready to leap out of my skin at the thoughts of be­ing upon dear earth again. Suppose, by way of a lit­tle frisk, we were not to change the scene, but the sea­son; that is to say, let it be this very same place in the midst of summer.

SCENE. Each object becomes as in the midst of summer.

Ah, ha! this is something like; now my lit-mirror will go to work; I see that; zounds! here they come in all their finery; summer, alone, can pro­duce butterflies

Pray, my dear, did you ever wish to be married?

Should you like to be married, my [...]

Heyday! our glass will be of no use to us at this rate. Will you do me the favour to breathe on this glass, Madam,

nay, Madam, don't be angry; 'tis a better thing for the complexion than Circassian bloom, or milk of roses;

as black as my face, by Jupiter.

Here comes a demure one, some hopes now. Madam, I am afflicted with a violent complaint; and the only possible cure for me is, for some kind-hearted lady, out of affection to me, to breathe on this glass, which, by an electric quality it has, will instantly restore me.

Is—

—Marked here black as any crow.

Well said, Madam Demure. Here's one coming who seems innocence itself. Will you breathe on this, glass love, for some sugar-plumbs?

This is a twig of a pretty forward growth; pray how old may you be?

A good intelligent young lady at twelve years old. And pray, my dear, have you a mama? Oh, very well; how arch and significant; and, I suppose, you hope to be, one day or other, as wise as she is?

Well, my love, don't despair; it won't be long first, I'll answer for you. Come, Punch, let us beat the bushes a little about here.

SCENE, The Gardens of Ceres, Columbine as a statue, Harlequin and Punch.

Here we are it seems in the gardens of Ceres; It seems she has a whole train of virgins; but the query is, whether they are not

What's this, Punch? a statue! Zounds, sup­pose, by way of a frolick, we try the glass; for I am afraid we shall never get any thing flesh and blood to answer our purpose. Pray, my pretty, dear, little deli­cate creature, are you sixteen years old, and a maid in thought, word and deed?

Hey! what the devil's this? the words I have uttered are certainly some charm, that cunning, old thief, Pluto, has put in my mouth to animate this statue. Give me the glass in a minute, Punch, for fear, hav­ing imbibed a few particles of amorous air, she would have fallen in love with one of us.

Victoria, Victoria! 'tis as pure is ever. My sweet creature, give me your hand

But, Punch, oh, oh, oh,

'tis a pity such a tid bit as this should be a bonne bouche for old Pluto. I'cod, suppose I keep her to myself. What's your name, my love?

Dumb! oh, what an ex­cellent quality in a wife! Yes, yes, I am determined to have her. Zounds, who comes here?

This is Madam Ceres, I suppose. I beg ten thousand pardons, Madam; I would not attempt to impose upon you for the world; and seeing you are a mild-spoken gentlewoman, Ma'am, I'll tell you the whole truth, Madam. His highness, your son-in-law, Mr. Pluto, great king of the devils, sent me to earth upon a fool's errand, to look for a perfect virgin of six­teen, to keep him company next time your daughter comes to visit you; so, Madam, thinks I, I won't ad­minister to any of his wicked pleasures, I'll go and tell good Madam Ceres the whole story. Hey, Punch!

Doddledy didum do.

And so, Madam, coming into your garden, where I have been looking in every crick and corner to find you, chance directed me to this statue, and so by way of a little foolery talking to it, as if it was alive, crack in a moment down it jumped, as lissom, I war­rant you, as you or I.

Oh, dam'me! destiny itself is concerned in my affairs. Madam Ceres don't make yourself uneasy; if the young gentlewoman's name is Colombine, she belongs to me by all the laws pantomimical. And as to Master Pluto—zounds, what's come over me!

Oh, Madam! you need not tell me the con­sequence; spitting would not serve his turn this bout. What shall I do? Why was I so damned brave all of a sudden?

SCENE, A sea view with a fortified town at a distance. Harlequin, Colombine, and Punch.

Come along, Punch, and you my sweet little Colombine; madam Ceres has made me commander in chief of a whole fleet, up at the back of this rock we embark.

SCENE, A fortified Town.

Bless me, what a thundering's here! what fire-spitting!

And how the cannon balls take the side of a house here, and a side of a house there, and mend up the breach with a stack of old chimnies!

I had the roof of my house taken fairly off by a shot from a cannon, and another clapped in the place of it.

I believe, your cannon's a gun, my dear.

What, you think he tells a lie! that's no­thing: I have seen a steeple taken clean off a church, and another placed in its stead, with twenty men ring­ing the bells.

'Pshaw, what's that? I saw an old man's head placed on a young man's shoulders.

But, woe be to the potters! I saw a hand-grenade in one of their shops, and the pots, pipkins, and glasses at fistycuffs with it at such a rate, you would have sworn a whole legion of devils had been at foot­ball there.

The devil burn me, but I am afraid some of us will find ourselves knocked in the head to-mor­row morning when we wake.

Ah! they have rid me of as good a wife as a man would desire to part withal.

By my soul, I'd take the law of them.

Why, do you think there is any law for those cannon bullets, then?

No! Prithee, run to a grenade as it comes piping hot out of a mortar-piece, and say you take the law of it.

Neighbour, I can but think what lanes a chain shot would make in the law; and how like an ass a judge would look with his head shot off.

Why to be sure, to have one's head shot off, would put any man out of countenance.

Madam Ceres has done very kindly by us in­deed, to place us in a town where we are besieged by the devil.

What shall we do?

Let us to her temple, and beg of her to com­pound for such limbs as we want most in our callings. Let me see, thou art a fencer; thou shall give thy legs to secure thy arms.

Thau art a dancer, thou shall give thy head to secure thy legs.

Thou art a cuckold, thou shall give thy horns to thy head.

Oh dear, I am killed.

What's the matter?

Oh! I am killed; let me be carried off before I come to myself, for I cannot bear to be shot to be dead, as I am a living man.

SCENE, Jupiter sitting in the clouds, listening to the complaints of Mortals.

I have the honour to present a petition to your magnanimous, celestial, potent, and most fulminating highness, from good dame Ceres, the goddess of plenty.

Why, yes, and please your highness's good­ship's honour, you have had a fine parcel of pleasant pranks to get at them, as a body may say.

Ods amoroso.

Why, where the devil is Punch got to? ha! ha! he! I shall never recover myself; he is got into Jupiter's chair, hearing causes

I beg ten thousand pardons for not giving you your title before, Mr. god Jupiter's lord chancel­lor; but, at present, your profound wisdom and fa­thomless penetration are wanted out of Jupiter's court of equity into his court of Doctors Commons, where Pluto, summoned up to heaven on purpose, is just go­ing to be arraigned; and the affair has made so much noise, that all the inhabitants, infernal, terrestrial, and celestial, are assembled at it; 'twill be a fine day's work for us; Jupiter is as hot, at present, upon do­ing justice, as he is sometimes upon committing de­predations; he intends to make my dear Colombine a constellation; you are to turn Momus out of his place; and I am to be, Oh, dam'me, I don't know what I am to be; come along, Punch, we shall be too late.

SCENE the last. A palace in the clouds; Jupiter on a throne; other gods and goddesses seated round, as in acourt of justice, Pluto at the bar, and Ceres opposite him as his accuser.