21. Fine Lady. "Don't be so boisterous, you filthy wretch. I am a woman of fashion." 22. Empress. "Fellow, I am an empress." 23. Young Lady. "Indeed, Sir, I am too young." 24. Old Bawd. "You may call me old bawd, if you please, but I am sure I have always been a friend to your worship." XVIII. Bonaparte's Dance of Death. Invented, drawn, and etched by Richard Newton, 7 by 5. 1. Stabb'd at Malta. 2. Drown'd at Alexandria. 3. Strangled at Cairo. 4. Shot by a Tripoline gentleman. 5. Devoured by wild beasts in the desert. 6. Alive in Paris. CHAPTER XII. _Books in which the subject is occasionally introduced._ To offer any thing in the shape of a perfect list of these, would be to attempt an impossibility, and therefore such only as have come under the author's immediate inspection are here presented to the curious reader. The same remark will apply to the list of single prints that follows. There is a very singular book, printed, as supposed, about 1460, at Bamberg, by Albert Pfister. It is in German, and a sort of moral allegory in the shape of complaints against Death, with his answers to these accusations. It is very particularly described from the only known perfect copy in the royal library at Paris, by M. Camus, in vol. ii. of "Memoires de l'institut. national des sciences et arts: litterature et beaux arts," p. 6 et seq. It contains five engravings on wood, the first of which represents Death seated on a throne. Before him stands a man with an infant to complain that Death has taken the mother, who is seen wrapped in a shroud upon a tomb. The second cut represents Death also on a throne with the same person as before, making his complaint, accompanied by several other persons at the feet of Death, sorrowfully deposing the attributes of their respective conditions, and at the head of them a Pope kneeling with one knee on the ground. The third cut has two figures of Death, one of which, on foot, mows down several boys and girls; the other is on horseback, and pursues some cavaliers, against whom he shoots his arrows. The fourth cut is in two compartments, the upper representing, as before, a man complaining to Death seated on a throne with a crown on his head. Below, on the spectator's left hand, is a convent whence several monks are issuing towards a garden encircled with hurdles, in which is a tree laden with fruit by the side of a river; a woman is seen crowning a child with a chaplet, near whom stands another female in conversation with a young man. M. Camus, in the course of his description of this cut, has fallen into a very ludicrous error. He mistakes the very plain and obvious gate of the garden, for a board, on which, he says, _several characters are engraved which may be meant to signify the arts and sciences, none of which are competent to protection against the attacks of Death_. These supposed characters, however, are nothing more than the flowered hinges,