506 
Dramas of the Dead. 
Oh, Victory ! Oh, Glory! if ye can, 4 
Make, if ye can, atonement !—but ye cannot; ye Tw bit 
No, ye empoison even the aconite. read voy 
Satan. Now will his soul, with baneful industry, bat 10 
Convert the past to anguish, and extract 81 OT 
A torturing essence fromthe memory __ - roine 
Of god-like aims, and actions worth ambition. } 
Napoleon. Marengo! Austerlitz! But ye are like 5 
The rest—names, dreams—ye come not, when I call 2 ont] 
From my soul’s solitude. I knew ye not 
When I was happy. Then, the-burning day nf 
Had not yet ris’n, to drink from hope’s pure flowers A 
The stainless dew, and on the scath’d hill’s side : 
Leave bare Ambition blind in his own beams— ra 
Alone and blind. But ’tis no matter—Night, ; 
Deep night hath fall’n at last. Why was I not 
Cast, like a leaf, upon the tide of time, 
And, unresisting, borne to that dull sea 
Where Envy sleeps? Selfish Ambition! thou, 
Vulgar alike in all, whate’er their ends, 
Art but a yielding to our baser nature. 
How dost thou bribe the demi-deity 
To ape despotic instinct! Too, too late, 
Glorious American, I envy thee 
The grandeur of thy super-human meekness. 
Thy country say’d, thou, her first citizen, 
Wast greater than ten Caesars. Earth, thy name, 
Most proud, is Washington. 
Satan. What were the thoughts 
Which thus could shake whom fate left unsubdued ? 
Napoleon. Methought that Stitchrag prick’d me with his needle; 
That Fingerlace, the vile man-milliner, 
Assail’d me with his yard-wand; that one pumpkin 
Call’d me ‘ Poor Boney !” 
Satan. See, whom have we here? - 
(Enter Stitchrag and Fingerlace.) ) 
Napoleon. The very pair !—Oh, Mars !—Trimmings and cabbage 
Fingerlace. (To Stitchrag.) Seest thou the rustic? Not a bit of ribbon 
About the clod. 
Stitchrag. Unfashionable dog ! 
Look at the scoundrel’s breeches ; what a cut ! B 
Napoleon. Lodi! Immortal Friedland ! “ 
Fingerlace. Saint Taxation ! 
Thrice holy Corn-bill! Holier Peterloo ! 
Stitchrag. Now for the genuine doric—hush ! no laughter 
Napoleon. Thrones and the shopboard ! Ancient goose and shears ! s 
Can things like these rule nations! Destiny, ' ip 9G 
Thy sceptre is a bodkin ! 
Satan. (To Fingerlace.) “What art thou ? ¥¢ ; 
Fingerlace. 1? (To Stitchrag.) Dost thou hear? the spooney does not 
know me— 
Clod! not know me? May it please your Majesty, 7 
I’m the man-milliner. ¢ 
ity 
Satan. (To Stitchrag.) And what art thou ? uae 
Stitchrag, The tailor ; at your service. x 
Satan. And what would you ed I 
» Here? tH 
Fingerlace. 1 would serve— coed | 
Stitchrag. ( Aside.)— In the capacity ‘ody dish . 
Of master— J ehag {st - ; 
Fingerlace. Your infernal despotship, nol aid? boA 
Andthis:your empire. I much like the country ; tute siete 10 
And cannot praise enough your good old stock =~ ©) pavauine 
= Stamifigal 
