_Mess_. Madam, I come an envoy from Crane-court. The great society that there assemble Congratulate your victory, and request That firm alliance henceforth may subsist Between your majesty's society Of Grub-street and themselves: they rather beg That they may be united both in one. They also hope your majesty's acceptance Of certain curiosities, which in That hamper are contain'd, wherein you'll find A horse's tail, which has a hundred hairs More than are usual in it; and a tooth Of elephant full half an inch too long; With turnpike-ticket like an ancient coin. _Q. Ign_. We gratefully accept their bounteous gifts, And order they be kept with proper care, Till we do build a place most fit to hold These precious toys: tell your society We ever did esteem them of great worth, And our firm friends: and tell 'em 'tis our pleasure They do prepare to dance a jig before us. [_Exit_ Messenger My lords of Law and Physick, you shall find I will not be ungrateful for your service: To you, good Harlequin, and your allies, And you, Squeekaronelly, I will be A most propitious queen--But ha! [_Music under the stage_. What hideous music or what yell is this? Sure 'tis the ghost of some poor opera tune. _Sneer_. The ghost of a tune, Mr Fustian! _Fust_. Ay, sir, did you never hear one before? I had once a mind to have brought the apparition of Musick in person upon the stage, in the shape of an English opera. Come, Mr Ghost of the Tune, if you please to appear in the sound of soft musick, and let the ghost of Common Sense rise to it. [_Ghost of_ COMMON SENSE _rises to soft musick_. _Ghost_. Behold the ghost of Common Sense appears. Caitiffs, avaunt! or I will sweep you off, And clean the land from such infernal vermin. _Q. Ign_. A ghost! a ghost! a ghost! haste, scamper off, My friends; we've kill'd the body, and I know The ghost will have no mercy upon us. _Omnes_. A ghost! a ghost! a ghost! [_Run off_. _Ghost_. The coast is clear, and to her native realms Pale Ignorance with all her host is fled, Whence she will never dare invade us more. Here, though a ghost, I will my power maintain, And all the friends of Ignorance shall find My ghost, at least, they cannot banish hence; And all henceforth, who murder Common Sense, Learn from these scenes that, though success you boast. You shall at last be haunted with her ghost. _Sneer_. I am glad you make Common Sense get the better at last; I was under terrible apprehensions for your moral. _Fust_. Faith, sir, this is almost the only play where she has got the better lately. But now for my epilogue: if you please to begin, madam. EPILOGUE GHOST.