e-mentioned order, decked out the sideboards.
The flasks were filled with tears of hypocrites, of would-be saints, of
pretenders to sensibility, and of persons who repent from weakness of
soul; with tears which envy squeezes out on hearing of another's
prosperity; with tears of egotists who weep for joy because they
themselves have escaped the misfortunes by which others are overwhelmed;
and of sons who weep over the palls of their harsh and avaricious
fathers. The flasks on the supper-table were filled with the tears of
priests, who, like actors, play a part in the pulpit, in order to move
their auditors; and to give the liquor a sharper flavour, it was mingled
with tears of courtesans, who walk the streets weeping for hunger, until
some inexperienced youth barters his dollar with them for sin. Reserved
for Satan and his princes stood, on various sideboards, flasks of the
noblest drink. This was heady and foaming, being a mixture of the tears
of monarchs, who weep for the misery of their subjects, whilst they issue
commands only calculated to perpetuate it; of the tears of maidens who
weep for the loss of their chastity with streaming eyes; and of the tears
of favourites who have fallen into disgrace, and now weep because they
can no longer rob and oppress under the protection of their masters.

No sooner had the slaves decked the table, and stationed themselves
behind the chairs of their masters, than the grandees poured forth from
the chambers of Satan. The furies went foremost; the body-guards
followed them, and were succeeded by the chamberlains. Then came pages
bearing lighted torches, woven out of the souls of monks who entrap
wives, and press round the deathbed of husbands to force them to leave
their property to the Church, without reflecting that their own
illegitimate spawn must beg for bread through the land. Then came Satan
himself, closely followed by the remaining nobility of his court,
according to their rank and favour. The devils bowed their heads in
reverence, the pages placed the torches upon the table of their
sovereign; while Satan, with a triumphant air, mounted his high throne,
and delivered the following speech:

"Princes, potentates, immortal spirits, welcome! thrice welcome!
Rapturous emotions glow through me when I cast my eyes along your
squadrons of countless heroes. We are yet what we were when, for the
first time, we awoke in this pool from the stunning consequences of our
fall,