him as his _Redeemer_, he does not only deserve Correction for his
wicked ingratitude, (which _especially in one of his Coat, is an immoral
Cheat upon Heaven_) but to have the same punishment that another of
his Coat and Kidney lately had, for a Cheat upon the Government and
People.

But to go on: In the next place he finds fault with my making sport with
Hell, and recites six Lines, which are made of Dogril Stuff, on purpose
by the Duke's Servants, who, for his diversion, Acting a kind of Farce
are to fright _Sancho_ with Goblings and Furies--but to shew his own Wit
in the first Onset here, he has notably made the two first Lines half
nonsence.

Appear ye fat Fiends that in Limbo do groan,
That were, when in flesh, the same Souls as his own.

Instead of-- _that wore when in flesh_, &c.

You that always in _Lucifer_'s Kitchin reside,
'Mongst Sea-coal and Kettles, and grease newly Try'd,
That pamper'd each day with the Garbidge of Souls,
Broil Rashers of Fools for a Break-fast on Coals.

[Footnote: Collier, p. 198.]

Words adapted only to _Sancho_'s Clownship, course Breeding, and Kitchin
Profession, and with no more intent of Impiety in them, than if one
should put on a Devils Vizard to play with a Child, does he note again
as horrible Prophaneness, and says he does me no wrong in't; now if he
insists that Hell is too serious a thing to ridicule, why, perhaps, I