XIV.

And Peter bowed, quite pleased and proud, And after waiting some few days For a new livery--dirty yellow Turned up with black--the wretched fellow Was bowled to Hell in the Devil's chaise.

PART THE THIRD.

_Hell._

Hell is a city much like London-- A populous and a smoky city; There are all sorts of people undone, And there is little or no fun done; Small justice shown, and still less pity.

There is a Castles, and a Canning, A Cobbett, and a Castlereagh; All sorts of caitiff corpses planning All sorts of cozening for trepanning Corpses less corrupt than they.

There is a * * *, who has lost His wits, or sold them, none knows which; He walks about a double ghost, And though as thin as Fraud almost-- Ever grows more grim and rich.

There is a Chancery Court; a King; A manufacturing mob; a set Of thieves who by themselves are sent Similar thieves to represent; An army; and a public debt.