A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. I wanted the time with you. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan, doubtfully. ‘Alors, pig!’ she cried and lunged in quarte. Loneliness. She must kill this man, or kill herself. "What has become of Jack Sheppard?" "Devil knows!" answered Quilt; "but I believe he's in the hands of Blueskin, so there's no doubt he'll soon be on the high-road to Tyburn. 'Avow nothing, believe nothing, give nothing for nothing,' is my own motto. ” Lucy replied sadly.
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