My cobweb treaty of Exclusion once,
Through which a hundred thousand coolies sailed,
Was much admired, but most by Colonel Bee.
Though born a tinker I'm a diplomat
From old Missouri, and I--ha! what's that?
(_Exit Moon. Enter Blue Lights on all the tombs, and a
circle of Red Fire on the grass; in the center the Spirit of
Broken Hopes, and round about, a Troupe of Coffins, dancing
and singing._)
CHORUS OF COFFINS:
Two bodies dead and one alive--
Yo, ho, merrily all!
Now for boodle strain and strive--
Buzzards all a-warble, O!
Prophets three, agape for bread;
Raven with a stone instead--
Providential raven!
Judges two and Colonel one--
Run, run, rustics, run!
But it's O, the pig is shaven,
And oily, oily all!
(_Exeunt Coffins, dancing. The Spirit of Broken Hopes
advances, solemnly pointing at each of the Three Worthies in
turn._)
SPIRIT OF BROKEN HOPES:
Governor, Governor, editor man,
Rusty, musty, spick-and-span,
Harlequin, harridan, dicky-dout,
Demagogue, charlatan--o, u, t, OUT!
(_De Young falls and sleeps._)
Antimonopoler, diplomat,
Railroad lackey, political rat,
One, two, three--SCAT!
(_Swift falls and sleeps.
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