"Nulli vendemus, nulli negabimus, aut differemus rectum vel
justitiam." [_Exit._]

CRIER.--This Court will sit the next time it is the Lord High Inquisitor's
pleasure that it should sit, and at no other period or time.--God save the
Queen!

* * * * *


AN AN-TEA ANACREONTIC.--No. 3.

[Greek: EIS LYRAN.]

Apollo! ere the adverse fates
Gave thy lyre to Mr. Yates[2],
I have melted at thy strain
When Bunn reign'd o'er Drury-lane;
For the music of thy strings
Haunts the ear when Romer sings.
But to me _that_ voice is mute!
Tuneless kettle-drum and flute
I but hear _one_ liquid lyre--
Kettle bubbling on the fire,
Whizzing, fizzing, steaming out
Music from its curved spot,
Wak'ning visions by its song
Of thy nut-brown streams, Souchong;
Lumps of crystal saccharine--