A Dialogue, between the Devil and George III. tyrant of Britain, &c. &c. &c. &c.

A DIALOGUE, &c.

1760.

DEVIL.

GEORGE, hearken to my counsel.

George.

Thy servant attends.

D.

My trusty servants Bute and Mansfield, have educated thee for my service, and taught thee the way wherein thou should'st go, obey them and I will make thee a king indeed; make yourself absolute, or die in the attempt: a king dependent on the people, is no monarch; he is a mere puppy.

G.

Your words I have a heart to obey; 'tis the beat of my soul, and the world shall soon know that I am a king in reality, and my people shall feel that my wrath is like the roaring of a lion.

D.

I doubt not you will equal my antient servants Nero, Caligula, B••rgia, Charles, and others; but you must use great art lest a spirit of liberty should rise among the peo|ple and blast your great designs, as happened to my faith|ful servant Charles.

G.

I will begin with my colonies; the idea of enslaving them to the power of parliament, and making them tri|butary to the old dominion, suits the pride and avarice of Britons: when this is done ••he way will be open and easy to complete the work in Britain▪ with places, pensions, titles and bribes▪ I can soon make myself as absolute as any tyrant that ever stept.

D.

Go on my beloved servant, and cut the work short; thou art the darling of my heart: I hope you will yet shed a sea of human blood sufficient for the British navy to ride in.

1774.

G.

See how things ripen.—I'll soon kindle rebellion in America, and then with a few troops subdue the rebels, confiscate the country, and establish my will as law.

D.

Pox take ye, what have you been about these four|teen years?—The work ought to have been done; 'ere now you should have been as terrible to your people as the lion to the tame beast of the field; but you are yet a beg|gar to parliaments.

1775.

G.

See the fields of Lexington and Bunker Hill.—Now the wheels begin to move—the torrent of blood is rapid: I trust you will never again have cause to lash my delays. In time past my counsels have been divided; and that timid goose of a Gage h••s been dilatory:—but I have sent Howe, Burgoyne and Clinton to assist him, and push things:— Howe is a true blood-hound; Burgoyne is ambitious as Lucifer, and would kill his father for promotion; and Clinton is obedient to his master as a shepherd's dog.

1776.

D.

You now begin to do something:—But you in your speeches and your generals in their proclamations, tell too many lies, and commit too many horrid acts of barbarity, for the success of your cause; in these you run too fast;— they strike mankind with horror, and unite them against you—there is not a character in Tophet stinks (above ground) worse than yours.

G.

You told me to make short work, and I said I had a heart for it:—accordingly by perjury and lies, fire and sword, by the gallows & dungeons, freezing and starving, I have been subduing the rebels, and hope to finish the work in America soon; for I want to begin with my sub|jects at home.

1777.

D.

Where is Burgoyne?—Howe has taken Philadel|phia, and is shut up in it.—Clinton has, with great loss, taken a small fort and burnt a town up Hudson's river, and run back to New-York.—Damn'd work, you'll stink in hell George!

G.

We are all in tears, but what can I do more; I sent fleets and armies, which all my ministers swore were more than sufficient to lay America prostrate at my feet.

D.

Instead of showing the spirit of a lion, you have the head of a goat and the heart of a sheep; and if you don't pursue your plan until the w••rk is complete, by the ghost of Nero, I hope the English will play Charles with you. If you fail, what a deform'd mo••grel puppy you will ap|pear to all the world; neither generosity and benevolence to gratify your people, nor art and spirit enough to make yourself a tyrant.—Poor d••••! you'll be the scorn of the world, and the de••ision of hell.

G.

I wish I had not begun, but there is no retreat. I'll move every wheel to increase my force by sea and land; I will send commissioners with great promises (which I can easily break when the business is done) and large bribes, and partly by art and partly by force, I may yet succeed. I know my crown will sit uneasy and my life be wretched after this, unless I gain my point.

D.

Do you see what the French are doing?

G.

Yes, my liege; do help me curse them; O for a flood of anathemes that would sweep them to the centre.

D.

Words are but wind, a million oaths won't sink a French ship, nor will ten thousand curses kill one rebel.— You stupid dog▪ if you would reign you must fight. It is now or never with you, not only the French but all the na|tions in Europe secretly aid America, and wish her success. You ought to have done the work at once, and not have allowed ••ime for the rebels to form alliances.

G

My liege, don't use me ill, you never had a servant more d••evoted to thy service, and very few have ever done so much to promote thy kingdom. In my early youth I debauch'd the fair qu••ker, and had three bastards by her, besides innumerable other instances of wickedness, of which you are witness. I have deceived my people with a show of religion; (this proves that I am no fool in hypocrisy) and at the same time have practised every iniquity, have employed such men in public offices as were thy faithful servants—and my head to full of schemes & my heart full of malice for every evil work.—And—

D.

You have a good heart, George, and I'll make some|thing of you yet.

G.

I have the heart of a tyrant. I never felt one tender emotion for all the sufferings of mankind, and I hope to prove that my head is equal to my heart. Permit me, my liege, to say that I have some merit for past services, and for my future designs. I have, at a moderate computation, by my attempts ••o enslave America, destroyed at least fifty thousand people—and have destroyed the happiness of fifty thousand more—And should I succeed, I'll surpass in bar|barity any tyrant that ever lived. I mean to be a demi|devil. I have in my imagination new tortures for man|kind; I mean that my furnace of torture should be seventy seven times hotter than Nebuchadnezzar's; for a novelty, and to show my genius, I will have a saw-mill carried by a stream of virgin blood to saw off rebels heads!—think of this my liege, and allow me the credit of it▪—Did ever Nero, or Caligula, perform any thing equal to this?

D.

Your heart is good, George, and you may yet make a figure if you persevere.

G.

As to perseverance, never fear my falling in that, I am of the blood hound breed, never leave the track, and my best friends have for this reason call'd me obstinate. I have said, and I swear to it, and stand to it, that I'll lose my crown before I'll give up America.

D.

In case America should prove unconquerable, what then?

G.

Why, even in that desperate extremity, I shall still have great designs left; I mean to perfect my tyranny in Britain if I fail in America; this I can easily do by bribing parliaments; and the immense increase of public burdens will facilitate my design; the spirits of the people are more and more depressed and broken, and the avarice of the great is likewise increased; the work is easy, and I had ra|ther be a little tyrant than a great king. To be a despot over the rest of my dominions, would be a compensation even for the loss of America: tyranny has been the plan and pursuit of my life, it is sweet to my soul, and a tyrant I will be, or be nothing.

1778.

D.

Things don't go well in America George, the rebels gain ground, and they exult in the most insulting stile since your General Clinton and his army got a fl••gging at Mon|m••u••h and performed their moon light retreat.

G.

I am vexed to the foul and with burning indignation I curse all around me—let fire brands, arrows and death seiz•• all that oppose my will. I will be a tyrant, and a tyrant I will be; I'll set the world on fire and spill the blo••d of all Adam's race but I'll have my will—my wrath kindles, my blood bo••••••, and vengeance burns; North and Germaine where are you, ye scoundrels! I am m••••k••d and deceived by you,—ye swore by Hercules that I should hear of nothing but vict••••y and triumph, and now what a tale do I hear of the ro••t and retreat of my army.—North, you are a purblind puppy, and that Minden bastard is no better,—curse all your politics, if the devil had taken you two, with old Bute and Mansfield, to himself, twenty years ago, I might have spent all my days as I spent my youth, in debauching fair quakers without interruption,— curse ye.

1779.

D.

You must use other weapons besides curses, or you'll never c••rrect the blunders of your wooden headed mini|sters. You seem fond of swea••ing, but you blunder cut your oaths wrong end foremost; your tongue is too big to swear off hand; and like many other boobies, by your aukward curses you scandalize swearing, had injure the Satannic cause. My servant, Charles a••l▪ did eminent ser|vice by swearing; his example made a whole nation of swearers▪ and greatly advanced my kingdom; but you, George, are formed for a hypocrite; your solemn phiz and sullen air, serve as a mask to cover your vices and devices, from the view of the people.—Under this clo••k, you have practiced debauchery, and numerous vices, and still had a tolerable character:—your Bishops and their underlings puff'd you off for a saint in folio—'tis necessary to avoid some vices, in order to practice others with more success.

G.

I want sometimes to give vent to my wrath by royal execrations—and I hate restraint in any vice: however, if your Highness forbids, I'll try to hold in for the present.

D.

When your tyranny is compleated, you will need no disguise; then the more you swear, the better for my cause. And remember. that swearing is a genuine criterion by which you may know my children—for altho' all my chil|dren don't swear yet all swearers are my sons and daugh|ters—and morally your brethren and sisters —If you swear it ought to be done with royal digni••y, and not lisp & mut|ter out your oaths like thousands, who ought to have their throats cut for the disgrace they bring on this sin, by sl••b|bering out "curse damn ye"—li••e damn'd b••••bies.

G.

Will your royal highness please to give me a rule by which I may swear in a stile becoming my royal dignity?

D.

Observe the following. First begin with faith this is the a••b in swearing; when you can make this run off your tongue glib, then proceed to curse it and damn it, and so on until you can reel off as the saying is fifteen dou|ble damns in a second, and make St J••mes's ••ing with royal swearing. But mind what I say George, be sure you never swear in company▪ until you can damn with an al•• of ••oyal grandeur. The best place for you to learn in is a•• h••••se stable, shut out all company, excepting a few of w••nt ••••|nial lords, [and they p•••• take 'em▪ your lords I mean, have yet to learn, altho' some of them have swore fixt yours they yet murder their oaths: but▪ p••or fellows th•• excuse is made for them, that their tongues are half eat off ••••••h the p••x] and exercise your lu••gs in the following m••nner —Take a horse by the t••i••, c••u••t the h••irs, ••••d d••••n each hair as you count it; ••hus proceed until you have gone thro' a stable of forty-nine horses; and if you c••m••nt then swear fit for company you must swear thro' h••••st b••e again; and conclude by damning each ho••se his n••e who begat him, his dam who bore him, his g••and si•••• ••nd grand dam, and trace his genealogy to his 〈◊〉〈◊〉: d••mn every generation up hill and down—a••d ••hen if you can't swear fit for company, set yourself down for a puppy—and try no more.

G.

I bow with reverence to your sublimity, and will observe your directions.

D

At present your attention should be more fixed on the rebels, and the means to subdue them.

G.

I have now a grand plan in agitation, that will do the business soon, I'll warrant: I began at the wrong end of America.

D.

You have generally been at the wrong end of every thing▪ and when will you be at the right end?

G

I am now forming a plan to subdue the southern provinces, and out of them I'll gather wealth and strength to conquer the northern rebels: I am now on the right track, and e'er two years run round, I'll have all America prostrate at my sovereign royal feet! and then nothing but blood and royal thunder, and George the Third, shall be heard through the ••••gions of rebellion.

D.

Evil tidings from America: the rebels have taken a strong fort by storm, and six hundred men!—May the curse of Scotland catch you George, if you don't look out better.—You blind whoresbird, why don't you send offi|cers who know how to command?

G.

My liege, I have done every thing a king can do. I can't stand centinel over my Generals: I did not think Harry Clinton, after knighting the scoundrel, would have let my wheels run backward —I can't depend on no body: curse dam'n 'em in these Scotch days.

1780.

O now, my royal master, now, now! see how my arms triumph! Georgia taken!—Charlestown humbled to the dust!—Tories increasing—rebellion dying—the rebel ar|my starving—muti••ying—huzz••!—I'll complete my glo|rious plan, and have the necks of five hundred rebel chiefs in my noose e'er the sun has measured nine months on the reel of time.

1781.

D.

Rebellion breaks out with new kindled rage in the southern provinces like the flames of Ae••na.—French and rebels, combined by links of adamant against you, and in|spired by all the lion passions; bestir yourself, George, o•• perdition will catch you!

G.

The rebels have no forces to make any figure in the field this year: Lord Cornwallis will sweep all before him, and the southern provinces will fall like leaves in autumn. And then for a trip and twitch at Old Massachu|setts, that ancient seat of rebellion.—I have fire and brim|stone, and wrath and vengeance, laid up for those veno|mous cockatrice sons of rebellion.—I'll make the smoke of their torment rise seven hundred and seventy cubits high. My soul burns to be at 'em. Adamses and Hancocks will be sweet fuel for my furnace! I'll fill the Old South in Boston full of the chief rebels, with five hundred barrels of tar and brimstone: this conflagration will serve to il|luminate the town on the glorious restoration of my royal government; and all the tories will say amen.—Old Time make haste and bring the blazing day.

D.

You have a Satannic heart; I wish your head was equal to it. I warn you again to lo••k out for the French and rebels, or they'll give you an Irish hoist e're long.

G.

As to the French fleet, my lions of the ocean will erack their bones: I expect this campaign will nearly swallow up rebellion; for all my ministers have sworn by the Stuart race, that I've nothing more to fear from the Gallic and rebel forces, than from a snow storm in the centre of Vesuvius.

D.

What avail your puffs; the French fleet is now triumphant, and has shut up Cornwallis with the flower of your army, as a prey for the rebels! Volcanoes and whirlwinds blast them! George, ye whoremonger, where are you? your kingdom totters while you are wenching.

G.

May it please your majesty of the air, I am, as at all other times, at thy service; and I am firm and composed as mount Atlas. When an east wind shall drive Albion upon the American shore, then will I believe a French fleet may drive the British, and not 'till then.

Germaine to George.

I am sorry to inform your majesty, that—

G.

Curse your buttons, Germaine, are you come with bad news; but yesterday you swore by Minden, the first tidings you brought me would produce another discharge of the Park guns, Well, what would you say?

Germaine.

To the astonishment of every body, and every thing, Greaves has suffered the French-fleet to beat him, and—

G.

I won't hear any more; thunder and lightning blast him to the centre, and burn him to a cinder at the bottom of the ocean. What was you going to add to your Scotch "and" if I would hear it?

Germaine.

I wa•• going to inform your majesty, that Greaves has returned to New-York with the loss of one ship of the line, and the rest in a ragged plight.—And—

G.

No more of your Scotch "ands", I won't hear it nor bear it—what! a British fleet turn tail to Frenchmen and run: If Greaves has run, I hope he won't stop 'till he gets to Tophet—I'll Bing the dog. If I would suffer you to speak, what more would you subjoin to your last "and"? (pox take you▪)

Germaine.

It makes my heart bleed and tremble, but duty and loyalty to the best of kings, obliges me to ac|quaint your majesty, that in consequence of Greaves's re|turning to New York, my Lord Cornwallis is—

G.

Stop, stop, stop, ye Minden scoundrel, I see it now, I see what is to follow, but I won't hear it from your cow|ard lips—Lord Cornwallis is left to defend both land and ocean; and he'll do it! his noble blood, his titled name, his martial fame, will conspire to kindle the British peer into heroic fire: he'll fight and conquer until his laurels reach the skies: and that son of Neptune, Digby, has spread his canvass wings to join him—then Gallic ships and rebel troops will fly before the British thunder like feathers in a whirlwind!

D.

All Europe bends a willing ear to this rebellion: Behold the rebel Plenipoes receiv'd with royal smiles in every court! To them your realms, your trade and wealth, are become a prey.—Behold the rebel ADAMS, he lifts his head above the clouds, turns Europe pale, and governs kings with a nod;—with more than sovereign voice he tells the monarchs. (with whom he deigns to speak,) "he represents the NEW WORLD, and came to give them commerce round the globe—and to establish

eternal peace."—And he lets astonished nations know he came from CONGRESS, (compar'd with whom the as|sembled Greek and Roman gods, sink in human view) who claim kindred with the stars, and call the sun their el|der brother;—and whose puissant arm makes the CAESARS tremble; hushes the warring realms to peace, and binds the omnipotence of Britain—he even aims a stroke at my domains; not confin'd to earth, he talks that providence divine hath pointed out to every land to form an UNION WITH HIS WORLD—and that HEAVEN hath set its seal to INDEPENDENCE—and said, AMEN!

Did sun, or moon, or stars, or earth, or sky, from crea|tion's early dawn, ever behold an equal to this REBEL — But remember George, such is human kind▪ men will gaze at, wonder, and adore the man, who adores himself—and this rebel will shake Europe.

G

If I had gone through one lessen in the horse stable —I'd damn him —

Can't we, my royal master, with our united powers of earth and hell, overset such a being as this Adams, who says he came from the NEW WORLD—I fear he'll drive bad spokes in my wheel of fortune, unless we demo|lish him soon; can't I hire a fellow for a few guineas, to po••son him? I have just thought of an easy & expeditious way to extirpate rebellion, by poisoning all the leaders;— and I'll give LOUIS a dose, if he has any more to do with my rebel subjects—This will do it quick.—What a curse ail'd my Scotch ministers, that they could not see this short cure for rebellion in the beginning.

D.

You are a Scotch damn'd goat—who begat ye, or bore ye—you've no more political eye sight than a blind curst puppy, three days old—A Dutch bull frog would learn navigation, sooner than you'll learn the first lesson in politicks.—For you to talk of poison, why you mongrel booby, the subtle French and hawk ey'd rebels penetrate all your counsels and designs; and before you could form such a plan, they'd fill your maw with arsenic! You and all your ministers would be as dead as Nim••ed in th••••e days!—

G.

It won't do men; but I must take off Adams, for he appears in such a pompous stile, that all Europe is fascina|ted with his fine stories about the NEW WORLD; he has a serpentine head and heart—he's all treason—and no|thing of the dove in him, except the wings, to fly from one mischief to another—his soul contains the quintessence of all rebellion—O master, double your curses upon him—I have try'd to buy some of the rebel chiefs, but I can pur|chase none▪ excepting a few scoundrels, who are only a curse to me. That perjured thief of an Arnold cost me upwards of five thousand sterling—(with a less sum I can purchase nineteen Lords and sixty Commoners) and I've only a piece of the scoundrel, for he lost one leg before I bought him —A dear bargain, you'll say, dear indeed; for I would sell him for ten yards of Scotch plaid.—I've poor bargains of all the tories, these slaves don't pay for the salt they eat; take them one with another and all together, they are not worth a curse; they are of no more use to me, than a wooden leg to a man that has no body.

D.

In fact, the tories are a nuisance in creation, every one curses 'em that has 'em; but I must take them.—

G

If you must take 'em, pray take 'em soon, for I want to be quit of all such lumber—I've been curst with them long enough, They pretend great loyalty, but I find 'em hollow hearted fellows, who sawn round me, for the same reason a dog does his master, to get a crust. Beside, their fulsome adulation is enough to turn my guts inside out— They perfectly stink in my nostrils, and scent the world.

D.

Your best way, George, will be to sell the tories at vendue; they are form'd for slaves, and altho' the meanest, yet the Dutch will buy them for the Guinea trade.

G.

I'll sell them, knock them off for something or noth|ing, any how, so that I am rid of them. But I must not waste time about these rascalls, I must attend to the war, for I will prosecute it with vigour, until I obtain an hono|rable peace. I'll humble the Dons, until they'll acknow|ledge my sovereignty, whereby I'll add to my royal titles, "King of Spain," &c, this will be a new jewel to my crown

D.

It will be well if you can at the next peace, retain your former titles —The French will contend, that you shall relinquish your empty title, "King of France▪"— And, indeed, you may with equal propriety, call yourself king of Jupiter.—You must exert every nerve, or your dominions will become a prey to the hawks and ravens of Europe; they are all gaping like so many vultures to devour you. They mean not only to get the new world, but to knock you out of the old.

G.

When I've subdued America, I'll "knock" the dogs till they'll lick the dust under my royal feet.—Although the French king is not to be compared with any king like us for royal greatness; yet I cannot but wonder that he could disgrace royalty by a connection with the rebels. I'd be curst through Billingsgate, by all the whores in Drury-Lane, before I'd stoop so low.

D.

George, you lie like hell, for you've employ'd In|dians, Negroes, Tories, Thieves, Robbers, Counterfeiters of Money, and the Off scouring, Scum, and Sweepings of the W••••ld;—formed treaties with the little Nabobs of ••••ss•• ••••d Brunswick, who, compared with America, are no more than a hen roost to a kingdom. George, w•••••••• you address me, do it in the language of truth; I allow you to lie to every one else; but don't tell foolish lies that no body will believe, as you and your ministers often do. George, I tell you, between me and you, this rebellion is alarming to my dominions, and threatens yours with ruin. The vast continent of America, pregnant with the richest stores of nature, inhabited with a brave and enterprising people; enthusiastic in religion and li|berty; and have laid foundations to perpetuate both; penetrating and daring in all their views; inflamed by your attempts to enslave them, have written your crimes in marble, with a "cursed be he that forgets or forgives the tyrant,"— "and blessed be their memory, and only theirs who preserve Independence." With whom magna|nimity and virtue recommend to office (and rulers stamp the manners of the people) in whose creed I and you, are equally opposed and execrated. This people, I say, have

excited and will command the admiration and imitation of mankind. In their public writings▪ speeches and trans|actions, they stamp glory on RELIGION and LIBERTY, and aim to make them both eternal:—and if they suc|ceed, I and you are eternally excluded from their favor; and that they will succeed we have every reason to fear; for all the old world is now gazing with admiration on the new. Kings hope to derive glory from an early friendship with this rising nation; and their subjects ex|pect to gain infinite wealth by this union. Every Dutch|man has his golden dreams about the NEW WORLD; they would not have listened with half the attention to the prophet Daniel they did to Adams; and this frenzy spreads like a pestilence through the nations and fascinates the world. If America is independent, universal ruin follows; therefore, George, hold out to the last, and be as obstinate as hell.

G.

Let me alone for obstinacy, I've an heart of ada|mant, there's no turn to me; my will never was broke, nor ever can be, there's no break nor bend to it if once I say no,—neither soothing nor praying, nor freezing nor burning, will ever move me; there's no move to me, I tell you, I'll be curst if there is. They tell of Nero's firmness, in fiddling while the city of Rome was burning; damn his buttons, why I could fiddle and wench too, if half the world was in flames. As to the terrors of the new world they tell so much about, I fear not any world, new or old,—let the worlds go which way they will, I'll go to mine; and may all the scoundrels in the universe buffet me through creation, if ever I submit to indepen|dence; may annihilation catch me, and I never more dar|ken any point of space if I do.

D.

Well said my son, I admire your royal spirit, I wish for a diffusion of it, 'tis this alone can save ye now.

G.

I have many cards yet to play: the world does'nt know me; they've not measur'd the length and breadth, and heighth and depth of my genius: the time of calamity is the hour for genius to shine.—I've had no trials sever•• enough to rouse my energy, and to turn the bright side of

my abilities to the day.—Genius, like the richest mines, lies deep.

D.

True, George, but I should have thought your ge|nius had been called for some years ago.—How can you bear the insolence and pomposity of the rebels—hear their titles of "Excellency," which royalty alone has a right to give.

G.

It kindles my ire, and goes cross my soul like an iron teeth harrow; but I'll soon bring down their Excellency's, and turn them to axletrees for my waggons, with a cursa|tion after them, to transport chains for rebels. Let Han|cock, Trumbull, Clinton, Livingston, and other rebel Go|vernors look not for me, I'll pulverize them in the jaws of my vengeance.—As for the rebel General, I'll pause and study to fix him in the focus of my burning wrath—in the crucible of my royal indignation—I'll warrant the sky of my reign will never be clouded with another rebellion.

D.

Should you reduce the rebels, it will be necessary to extirpate great part of the breed, otherwise they may future revolt again.

G.

I know them root and branch; they're the old cur|sed Oliverian breed of king-killers, whose ancestors fled from the axe and halter of my good progenitors the Stu|arts (of blessed memory), but I'll never leave one on this side the Stygian lake, I'll leave none of this cursation white weed to seed the land again.—My weapons of death shall drink the last drop of their rebel blood—and then I'll plant the provinces with loyal Scotchmen, and a due mixture of my royal breed among them for rulers. I shall have enough of my own for every office of conse|quence; my German rib (••••own by the name of Pug) has brought me upwards of a dozen.—I've five by a Quaker girl—three by a Drury Lane Bunter—four by Billingsgate Dab—several by Blue Moll, &c. &c. &c.—I've enough I'll swear, and more coming.

D.

There's a report that Cornwallis is a prisoner!

G.

It's nothing but one of the rebel curst lies: they're eternally blowing about their victories, which ever turn out a royal triumph,—Cornwallis surrender to the rebel

Washington, no! he'd fight through the Stygi•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 first, and then he would'nt.—Mars and Jupiter would sooner surrender to the Moon, and bow to a foot ball.—Curse damn the rebels, to think my heroes will ever yield to them! no damn curse 'em—earthquakes, inundations and whirl|winds swallow 'em up, and blast 'em for their Stygian im|p••dence, and tumble 'em headlong through creation to ••••••••entre.

D

George, you swear poorly, not fit for company, you'll disgrace swearing; you hav'nt observ'd my rules for learning the art.

G.

I beg your pardon, my liege, but I have, I've swore through the liable, and damn'd every hair upon the tail of every horse, and curst every generation, up to the horse Caligula made one of his council; and faith I thought I swore with an air.

D

Then you're a numskul booby, and fit only to be a king of ••••••ses; and many of your counse••••ors ••re no bet|ter than Caligula's horse—he was much such another horse-king as yourself But let me never hear you attempt to swear again; you'll cause swearing to go out of ••ashion; no gentleman will swear after you This is one of the great supports of my kingdom, and it costs me nothing: swearers are all volunteers in my service, and go to hell without for or reward.

G.

That's poor wages.

D.

What news from America, George?

G

I have none; but expect every hour to hear some|thing glorious from the brave Cornwallis—O t••••r••'s North and Germaine coming upon the trot, they've 〈…〉〈…〉 I know by their speed—Well, North, what 〈◊〉〈◊〉

North.

I have nothing authentic; but the•••• are evil reports respecting Lord Cornwallis —

G.

I am not to be hum bugg'd by the rebel li••••—its on|ly the forerunner of victory.—Well, Germaine, what news have you?

Germaine.

I have this moment received a packet from Sir Henry Clinton, which confirms all the melancholy re|ports from America—

G.

What! is it possible that Lord Cornwallis, with the flower of all my veterans, is f••ll••n a prey to rebels!

Mansfield.

I come to condole with your Majesty, upon one of the most melancholy events that ever wrung tears from royal eyes— And I could mingle my hearts blood with my tears if it might lessen the affl••ction which now fills your royal bosom with anguish—

Sandwich.

No one can feel more on this occasion than myself; but I have done every thing for the go••d of the service; and I feel every thing which loyalty to the best of king's can inspire.

Bute.

I beg leave with duty and gratitude, to mingle my tears with your majesty's, on this dir••ful occ••sion.

North to Germaine, aside. The king is sullen as the devil—look at his eyes, they roll like tw•• fire balls; he'll break out like thunder presently; he grates his teeth like the devil biting steel bars to let tories ••ut of prison.

G.

Oh—Oh—Oh—Vengeance! Vengeance!

D.

George, and be damn'd to ye, where are ye? Corn|wallis is a prisoner—his whole army—an immensity of stores, and ships, are all in the hands of the French and rebels.—O ye mongrel bastard, George, you'll turn out another bull|headed our like Charles the First. I have been tryi••g one hundred & fifty years to raise a tyrant out of the breed, but ye are a sap headed generation, fit only for backlogs in Tophet, and for mud-boats in the Stygian lake.

G.

May curses in whirlwinds blast my ministers & com|manders.—Attend here, North and Germaine, What! Is the nation all going to the devil in a French wheelbarrow, and the rebels to reign triumphant?

North.

It is not in human wisdom always to foresee or guard against misfortunes. Every thing has been done by your m••j••sty and by your ministers, that wisdom could dictate; and your commanders must answer for their con|duct.

G.

Aye, you'll all excuse yourselves; but I'll be curst if I don't make a button of some of your heads▪ and scaffold the rest of ye, unless ye retrieve my aff••irs. —Summon a privy council instantly; c••ll all the lord: and bishops who have advised to prosecure the war against America.

Bute.

I beg leave to inform your majesty the privy council is assembled, and waits your royal pleasure.

G.

Let them attend me immediately. I am betrayed by your counsel; by your cousel I am now suffering the greatest c••lamity that can wound the heart of a king.

Bute.

Your majesty will remember that the plan for enslaving America, was ever dear to your royal breast, and the offspring of your own heart.

G.

Remember it is one of the wise maxims in English politics, "a king can do no wrong"—The plan was good but ye have murdered it by your blunders in the execution —the fault lies with ye, and ye shall bear it—and I'll give ye all up a sacrifice to appease the rage of the people.

Mansfield

I hope your Majesty will recollect my long and faithful services; I have twisted the law into all shapes and forms to answer royal purposes. And—

G.

Tell me no more of your services. I have been de|ceived and ruined by the advice of my ministers and coun|cil — p••x take them all—It makes my blood curdle in my veins to think of it! America is lost forever! and all owing to my scoundrel ministers—if I had rak'd hell, and skin'd the devil, I could not have f••und a worse set.

D.

Sirrah! sirrah!—I don't allow you to use my name by way of reproach to your r••scally ministers.

G

Your highness will ••x••use what is said in the heighth of passion, I am all rage and vengeance—I could spit fire— my very vitals burn like t••nder—I could swear fall enough to carry a wind mill—Attend me this moment all my mi|nisters and council:—Now what do you say to the Ame|rican war, ye wrong headed Scotch bastards.——

D.

Hold! hold! George, come I'll be moderator, and see that every one has fair play;—ye are all my servants, and every one shall speak freely in his own cause.—

Bute.

I thank your highness for this liberty, as we have much to offer in our justification—our king has never been entirely governed by our advice; his mulish temper was such while a boy, that I had rather borne the misfortunes of Job, than to have been his tutor; and as he grew in years he grew in obstinacy; and—

G.

You lie! ye old plaid-stocking'd whoresbird—I'll

D.

Silence! George, don't you interrupt my old servant.

Bute

—And when we gave him the best counsel, he'd often follow the worst; I often told him—

G.

I won't bear an insult from that Highlander, I'll—

D.

Silence! Tom Firetongs, take George by the nose and give the scoundrel a twist.

Bute.

—I told him his measures were inadequate to the purpose: but when once he gets wrong, no one can right him.

Germaine.

I can witness to the truth of what my Lord Bute hath declared. Had our counsel been always duly regarded—

G.

What! dares the Minden coward to rise?

D.

Here! Triphammer, make a tongue cuff for George instantly; rivet it on red hot: I'll see if we can't keep that fellow's tongue still.

North.

I beg leave to speak one word; it is notorious where the fault lies; but it is vain to waste time in crimi|nations, we must now consult our safety. I beg the mini|sters of the crown would withdraw with me a few minutes.

[Aside. North.

Ye all know the maxim. "a king can do no wrong;" and although it is the quintessence of nonsense, yet the wise people of Britain hold it as sacred; and whenever the king will give up his ministers to the rage of the people, they will absolve the crimi|nal, and cry him up for the best of kings; therefore we must take him off before he makes a sacrifice of us. Let us give the mule a dose of arsenic, and let him go off with the dry belly ache, and be pox'd to him.

Sandwich.

This plan will do, and nothing else, for the sullen dog can never be brought to good humour, and if he lives he'll play fury with us.

Bishop.

'Tis the only plan, and I'll read the funeral service, and give thanks heartily that he is taken out of this evil world.

Germaine.

I like it much: for the joy which a new king will diffuse, will allay the present tumult about Ame|rica; every one will be paying his addresses to the new

king, and no one will care who has got the old one: we will retire from the helm and live in domestic peace. I beg that this motion may be put to vote—all hands are up, it passes ••••m. con. Let one of the family physicians prepare the dose]

North.

Ever animated with the most ardent affection to the best of kings, I feel the sighs of loyalty whenever his majesty meets with any misfortune. I wish not to cri|minate any one: but, as I said before, it is notorious where the fault lies: his majesty's commanders, by sea and land, have trifled away the opportunities that offered for defeating the French, and subduing the rebels. I should be happy to hear his majesty express his royal sen|timents on this great occasion.

G.

North, you are an honest fellow, and your remarks are just;—but in our internal situation, how can we make peace?—A peace we must have, for destruction gapes to receive us!

North to Germaine, aside I'll flatter the king 'till the poison is ready, and then we'll jirk him out of the world.

North.

If your majesty will be graciously pleased to sig|nify the terms on which you would treat for peace, your majesty's ministers will lose no time in pursuing your royal wishes.

G.

What is the first step we ought to take, North, in your opinion, to obtain an honorable peace?

North.

May it please your majesty, I conceive that we must now endeavour to gain the favor of America; and as there is an American Plenipotentiary not far distant, I humbly conceive it might be proper to consult him, and feel his pulse.

G

Invite the American to meet us in council to-morrow.

The Dialogue concluded by the Speech of an American.

A.

"By the providence of the Almighty▪ the time is come which compels the reluctant wish for peace.—Since your sword can no longer devour, and is ready to be plung'd in the guilty bosom that kindled the war, you think of peace. —Peace is the desire of humanity, the constant object of

the wise and good; it hath ever been the ardent wish of America, and all her views have centered in this; but your hostile heart hath hitherto shut the door against it. I will express the views of America, in a few words. She means not only to be independent, sovereign and free, but to communicate as far as may be in her power, the super|lative blessings herself enjoys to all mankind As she means that all the treaties she forms should be lasting as time, and thereby to establish perpetual peace, in her treaty with Bri|tain she will not measure her terms by the i••ju••••ies she hath received, but looking forward to distant ages, and me••sur|ing things on the great scale of the world, with benevo|lent views to humanity, she will give to Britain such terms of peace and commerce, as shall be for the general good of mankind: and leave it to providence, to punish the enor|mities of the present rulers of Britain and their abettors, who have shed the innocent blood of Americans.—In a word, America will be in every view as completely an in|dependent, sovereign nation, as any power that now ex|ists in the world; and she will give to every nation with whom she forms a treaty, the same privileges she receives, and nothing more.

By the favor and protection of GOD, who hath given her the best quarter of the world, and exalted her to the rank of empire, she means by sacred honor, and justice, and humanity, to hold the balance of the nations, and to be a friend to the oppressed, and an enemy to none but the enemies of peace.—From these general principles, the concessions you must make, in order to obtain peace, are obvious, and I need not name them. But before I con|clude, let me remind you "there is no peace to the wick|ed"—and your crimes are numberless, and their enormity is equal to their number. You were exalted to reign over a grateful people, who loved you with parental tender|ness and brotherly affection; they expected a return of love, and in the careless confidence which love inspires, exposed their liberties to the grasp of a tyrant.—You con|ceived their security aff••rded the wish••d for moment to enslave them, and equally regardless of your duty to GOD

and to man, you formed the horrid design, and have pur|sued it by means too inf••rnal to be named; you have violated all the sacred laws of Heaven and earth, and sported with human misery. When America asked only for liberty, peace and sa••ety—only for the enjoyment of what GOD had given, you sent ••••••e and sword; and while they begged for mercy, you added torture and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the most horrid forms. — Thousands who once sent 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ardent prayers for you, changed them into petitions that GOD would stay your murdering hands.—For many long years every breeze hath wafted the groans of dying pri|soners to Heaven against you, while every hour hath wit|nessed the big tears and swelling bosoms of their surviving friends! What myriad•• have you sent down to the cham|bers of death; and in the bosom of surviving thousands, you have planted the sharp them of affliction! The aged parents cry with anguish. "O my son! my son! my only son! is murdered by the tyrant George." The bereaved widow and weeping children, wi••h bleeding hearts, cry out, "O my husband! my father! we shall never, never see him again! he is murdered by the tyrant." The virgin, whose dearer s••cond self, was gloriously con|tending in the field to save his country, became a captive, and suffered complicated death by cold and hunger; she cannot speak for grief—in silent sorrow sinks down, and in her languid eye, she looks a prayer to heaven! Her an|guish is too great to find a voice, but heaven can hear her wishes, and will avenge her wrongs! Well may you turn pale at your picture, and fain•• at the prospect of wrath divine, and triple vengeance ar••••••d with almighty thun|der! You have sl••ghted the commands of your GOD and SAVIOUR, and despised the precepts of the Prince of Peace; therefore you may justly fear that He will "laugh at your calamity, and m••••k when your fear co|meth;" that as you refused mercy it shall be refused to you, and when "destruction and desolation cometh upon you like a whirlwind," no arm shall relieve you▪ no eye shall pity you; but rapt in final ruin, si••k down, down, down to the regions of horror and death eternal!

The Physicians in waiting, observing the king to swoon, apply strong drops, and prepare to let him blood.

"And you, his guilty ministers, who have shared in his crimes, shall be partakers of his plagues——your infidel hearts have laughed at the judgment to come, and said, "to whom shall we give account?" but the time is near, when, like the "father of lies." ye shall "believe and tremble."—While your master faints with conscious guilt, can ye lift an eye to the sun, or look on the face of man, while nature, scarred with your cruelties, and weeping, cries for vengeance, and the slighted mercy of heaven is just signing your doom."

The physicians cry out, "the king is dead, and all their lordships are fainting, and have the symptoms of death!"

The American then turned from them, as the Angel from Satan, and went his way.