The Virginia Gazette

My ever dear and favourite son,
I've heard of late the deeds you've done,
Go on my boy keep true to me,
And I'll keep faith, depend with thee.
For sure I never yet did know,
In air above or earth below,
A child so wedded to my will,
So loath to virtue, prone to ill.
So every way my son and heir,
Or fitter for promotion here,
Know then that I of special grace,
Willing to give my boy a place.
Late summon'd up my swarthy crew,
To know what place best suited you,
All prick'd their ears, except a black,
(Who ears had not) he showed his back.
"No make him overseer, says he,
"For dat man he been killy me,"
His back his head his meagre face,
Drew pity from the hellish race.
The murmur run from shore to shore,
And hell was instant in a roar.
The clamour stayed, a boy then cried,
By him begot, by him I died.
An aged matron creeped along,
And feebly thus addressed the throng;
A child I brought, that child I cherish'd,
And by that child, at last I perish'd.
Such noble acts, such deeds as thee,
Methought th'infernal crowd would please,
But all cried out ('tis strange to tell)
"There's no place fit for Mat in hell.
"His acts so far surpass your own,
"'Twould give him title to the crown.'
The truth is this, my son they fear,
Lest you should take th'imperial chair,
Should that day they, be e'er the case,
Hell would become an empty place.
The crowd dismiss'd, a wily peer,
With wicked grin, malicious leer,
Advised to build another hell,
That you alone therein might dwell.
Now if my son has no objection,
It shall be built by your direction,
Nay more, to give you due content,
I'll send you negroes to torment.
An overseer or two besides,
To help you cut and slash their hides,
And if I did not know you well,
(Tho' seldom any come to hell)
Some women I might send, but then
I'm sure you'd whip them back again.
Should an engroser, come this way,
Send me your answer, ay or nay,

DIABOLUS.