The Dance of Death

XLVI. - The Robber

THE ROBBER.
THE ROBBER.

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Domine, vim patior.

Isaiæ xxxviii.

La foible femme brigandée

Crie, O seigneur on me fait force.

Lors de Dieu la mort est mandée,

Qui les estrangle à dure estorce.

Death seizes the Robber in the act of theft.

He was one of those people who never think of death until he knocks at the door, and then earnestly entreat him to excuse them for the present, and to be so good as to call another time. -- Smollett

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