Plate 25. The Fortune-teller.
All fates he vow'd to him were known,
And yet he could not tell his own.
In this instance we are introduced to the 'chamber of mystery' of a pretended fortune-teller. The empiric seer is surrounded by the paraphernalia of his profession; a crocodile is suspended to the ceiling, above a mystic string of orbs, and the globes have an uncanny black cat perched thereon, a witch at the least. Two credulous ladies of fashion have called to consult the pretentious impostor, who rejoices in the fur cap, flowing robes, long beard, and divining rod of a magician; a book of nativities is open before him:—'To me all fates, all fortunes known;' to which Death retorts, in hollow voice: 'Vain boaster, tell your own.' A greater conjuror is present concealed behind Merlin's seat; a jerk, and the wizard is no longer above deception; he is overturned, his neck is broken amidst the wreck of his mummeries scattered around.
Plate 26. The Lottery Office.
To trust to fortune's smiles alone,
Is the high road to be undone.
The evil of permitting lotteries, which were still in existence and flourishing at the time this plate was projected, is set forth in a graphic design. A crowd of needy adventurers have hurried to the lottery office, eager to know if fortune has assigned them lucky numbers. Jews, misers, and all sorts of gamblers, including a mob of hardy rogues who have purloined their employers' property to tempt the smiles of the fickle goddess, are darting from the office in dismay. An unlucky female, who has ventured her all, and even risked the means and belongings of others on the chance of winning a prize, has come to inquire her fate. The grim foe has exultingly taken his place among the clerks; he is holding out two blanks with an air of fiendish malice, and the shock is proving a deathblow to the unfortunate fair gambler, she is expiring in the office.
Plate 27. The Prisoner Discharged.
Death, without either bribe or fee,
Can set the hopeless pris'ner free.
Death in this case is still shown interfering with the course of others' business. The picture represents a debtors' prison; a wife and two daughters have come to visit an unhappy captive, the head of the family, who is detained by a relentless creditor. They just arrive in time to see their relative released beyond the resistance of mortal detainers. The deadly foe has called at the gate, the prisoner is summoned forth, warders and turnkeys dare not refuse to let him free in such company. A mortified Shylock and his disappointed lawyer are furiously pointing to their bonds, and dancing with rage to find their ends defeated by the grim joker, who is grinning at their manifest discomfiture.