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Painted emblems of a race,
 * All accurst in days of yore,

Each to his accustomed place
 * Steps unwillingly once more!

Enter.

My poor master, you are not well—

Gideon Crawle, it won't do—I've seen 'em—all my ancestors—they're just gone. They say that I must do something desperate at once, or perish in horrible agonies. Go—go to yonder village—carry off a maiden—bring her here at once—any one—I don't care which—

But—

Not a word, but obey! Fly!

Away, Remorse!
 * Compunction, hence!

Go, Moral Force!
 * Go, Penitence!

To Virtue's plea
 * A long farewell—

Propriety,
 * I ring your knell!

Come, guiltiness of deadliest hue! Come, desperate deeds of derring do!

Henceforth all the crimes that I find in the "Times".
 * I've promised to perpetrate daily;

To-morrow I start with a petrified heart,
 * On a regular course of Old Bailey.

There's confidence tricking, bad coin, pocket-picking,
 * And several other disgraces—

There's postage-stamp prigging, and then thimble-rigging,
 * The three-card delusion at races!