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A Dialogue betwixt an EXCISE-MAN and DEATH.
[illustration] death, represented by a skeleton holding an arrow, converses with an excise man standing in front of barrels
Death.
Stand, who comes here? what means this Knave to peepe
And sculke a broad, when honest men should sleepe?
Speake, what's thy name? and quickly tell me this,
Whither thou goest, and what thy bus'ness is?
Excise-man.
What'ere my bus'ness is, thou foule-mouth'd scould
J'de have you know, I scorn to be controul'd
By any Man that lives; much less by thou
Who blurtest out thou knowst not what, nor how;
I goe about my lawful bus'ness: And
Jle make you smart for bidding of mee stand.
Death.
Jmperious Cox-combe! Is your stomack vext?
Pray slack your rage; and harken what comes next:
I have a Writt to take you up; Therefore
To chafe your blood I bid you, stand, once more.
Excis.
A Writt to take me up! Excuse mee, Sir,
You doe mistake, I am an Officer,
In Publick Service, for my private Wealth,
My bus'ness is if any seeke by stealth,
To undermine the States, I doe discover
Their falshood; therefore, hold your hand: give over.
Death.
Nay, faire and soft! Tis not so quickly done
As you conceive it is: I am not gone
A jott the sooner for your hastie Chat,
Nor braging Language: For I tell you flat
Tis more then so; though Fortune seeme to thwart us,
Such easie terms I don't intend shall part us?
With this impartial Arme, Jle make you feele
My fingers first, and with this Shaft of Steele,
Jle peck thy bones? As thou alive, wert hated,
So dead, to Doggs thou shall be Segregated.
Excis.
J'de laugh at that; I would thou didst but dare,
To lay thy fingers on me: J'd not spare
To hack thy Carkass till my Sword was broken:
J'de make thee eat the words which thou hast spoken:
All men should warning take by thy transgression,
How they molested men of my Profession.
My Service to the Sates, is so well known,
That should I but Complaine, they'd quickly own
My publcke grievances; and give mee right
To cut your eares before to morrow night.
Death.
Well said indeed: But booteless all; For I
Am well aquainted with thy Villianie;
I know thy Office, and thy Trade is such,
Thy Service little; and thy Gaines are much:
Thy braggs are many; But tis vaine to Swagger,
And thinke to fright me with thy guilded Dagger:
As I abhor thy Person; Place, and Threat,
So now Jle bring thee to the Judgement Seate.
Excis.
The Judgement Seate! I must confess that word
Doth cut my heart, like any sharpned Sword:
What! Come t'account! methinks the dreadful sound
Of every word, doth make a mortal wound,
Which sticks not only in my outward skin,
But penetrates my very soule within.
Twas least of all my thoughts that ever Death,
Would once attempt to stop Excise-mens breath.
But since tis so; that now I doe perceive
You are in earnest: then I must relieve
My self another way. Come, wee'l be Friends,
If I have wronged thee, Ile make th'Amends:
Let's joyne together; Jle passe my word, this night
Shall yeeld us Grub, before the morning light;
Or, otherwise (to mittigate my sorrow)
Stay here, Jle bring you Gold enough to morrow.
Death.
To morrows Gold I will not have; And thou
Shalt have no Gold upon to morrow: Now
My final Writt shall to'th execution have thee;
All earthly Treasure cannot help or save thee.
Excis.
Then woe is me! Ah! how was I befool'd!
I thought that Gold (which answereth althings) could
Have stood my friend at any time, to Baile mee!
But griefe growes great, and now my trust doth fail mee:
Oh! that my conscience were but clear within;
Which now is racked with my former sin:
With horror I behold my secret Stealing,
My Bribes, Oppression, and my graceless Dealing;
My Office-sins which I had clean forgotten,
Will Gnaw my soul, when all my bones are rotten:
I must confess it, very grief doth force mee,
Dead, or alive, both God and Man doth Curse mee.
Let All Excise-men hereby warning take,
To shun their Practice for their Conscience sake.
FINIS.