[] THE MIRROR, OR, HARLEQUIN EVERY WHERE.

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 fool⯑iſh 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 entertain⯑ment 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 li⯑mitted 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, with⯑out being able to touch one of them.

It is indeed!—who but the devil could in⯑vent 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 tremen⯑dous 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 quiet⯑ed with a ſop; the queſtion therefore is, will you fol⯑low 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 calen⯑dar. 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 de⯑tecting 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 un⯑grateful.

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 poſ⯑ſible 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 Ely⯑ſium, 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 travel⯑ler: 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 ar⯑rived at the antipodes. See what a number of ſtrange figures are yonder.

Well, we can give a good account of our⯑ſelves, that's one thing. Tell them we are ambaſſa⯑dors 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 gentle⯑man is.

I wiſh I could ſee the example imitated. Ma⯑ſter 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 parti⯑cular; and as we often ſay a great deal without ex⯑preſſing 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 wea⯑ther 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 be⯑ing upon dear earth again. Suppoſe, by way of a lit⯑tle friſk, we were not to change the ſcene, but the ſea⯑ſon; 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 pro⯑duce 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, ſup⯑poſe, 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 deli⯑cate 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, hav⯑ing 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 ex⯑cellent 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 ſix⯑teen, to keep him company next time your daughter comes to viſit you; ſo, Madam, thinks I, I won't ad⯑miniſter 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 war⯑rant 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 con⯑ſequence; 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 no⯑thing: I have ſeen a ſteeple taken clean off a church, and another placed in its ſtead, with twenty men ring⯑ing 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 foot⯑ball there.

The devil burn me, but I am afraid ſome of us will find ourſelves knocked in the head to-mor⯑row 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 in⯑deed, 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 com⯑pound 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 good⯑ſhip'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 chancel⯑lor; but, at preſent, your profound wiſdom and fa⯑thomleſs 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 go⯑ing 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 do⯑ing juſtice, as he is ſometimes upon committing de⯑predations; 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.