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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

"The works of John Dryden, $c now first collected in eighteen volumes. $p Volume 07"

--
Alecto, thou to fair Augusta go,
And all thy snakes into her bosom throw.
_Dem._ Spare some, to fling
Where they may sting
The breast of Albion's king.
_Zel._ Let jealousies so well be mixed,
That great Albanius be unfixed.
_Plu._ Forbear your vain attempts, forbear:
Hell can have no admittance there;
The people's fear will serve as well,
Make him suspected, them rebel.
_Zel._ You've all forgot
To forge a plot,
In seeming care of Albion's life;
Inspire the crowd
With clamours loud,
To involve his brother and his wife.
_Alec._ Take, of a thousand souls at thy command,
The basest, blackest of the Stygian band,
One, that will swear to all they can invent,
So thoroughly damned, that he can ne'er repent:
One, often sent to earth,
And still at every birth
He took a deeper stain:
One, that in Adam's time was Cain;
One, that was burnt in Sodom's flame,
For crimes even here too black to name:
One, who through every form of ill has run:
One, who in Naboth's days was Belial's son;
One, who has gained a body fit for sin;
Where all his crimes
Of former times
Lie crowded in a skin[2].
_Plu._ Take him,
Make him
What you please;
For he can be
A rogue with ease.
One for mighty mischief born;
He can swear, and be forsworn.
_Plu._ and _Alect._ Take him, make him what you please;
For he can be a rogue with ease.
_Plu._ Let us laugh, let us laugh, let us laugh at our woes,
The wretch that is damned has nothing to lose.


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Kody Do Gier
Kody Do Gier
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