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Weary One : I. For am I not also wretched ? First Singer : Truly, you appear so. But stay. You are not a spy Oil, horror ! You are not the awful Alderman himself ? Weary One : No. See my beard, although streaked with premature »rey, is not white enough. I am a once-prosperous butcher, who rashly endeavoured to conduct his trade secretly after it had been declared illegal by Alderman T — t — m and Mr. W — 11— s, To-day their trained hounds tracked me home. With difficulty I escaped them, and I am here. And you ? First Singer : We are publicans, tea dealers, tobacconists, and other outlaws who survived the general massacre and sought refuge here. But hark ! horror ! The sound of feet. The clash of arms. Oh ! the enemy is upon us. To the caves ! To the caves ! [All hide hastibj. Enter Alderman T — T — M, Mr. H — R D— v— n, Alderman W — n— e. Alderman S — R, Mr. W— LL — s, and other friends of h^mianity. TJiey are armed, hut advance dejectedly. Alderman T — t— m {turning and gazing half regretfullij had) : Eecit. Farewell, world, I feel I love you now That I'm about to leave you. Time gone liy You were to me a disagreeable friend, A low acquaintance whom I couldn't cut. But whom I snubbed full many a time and oft, Seeing your vices through a double glass. But blind to all your glorious qualities, Fai'eweU, O world, farewell, a long farewell. Mr. W — LL — S: Yes; perhaps, after all, the world as originally con-