Wretch! whom no sense of wrongs can rouse to vengeance;
Sordid, unfeeling, reprobate, degraded,
Spiritless outcast!
[Kicks the Bricklayer’s Labourer, overturns his hod of mortar and exit in a transport of liberal enthusiasm, and universal toleration.]
Sapphics of the Cabstand.
Friend of Self-Government.
Seedy cab-driver, whither art thou going?
Sad is thy fate—reduced to law and order,
Local Self-Government yielding to the grip of