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Updated: June 17, 2025
A reviewer of the old dispute and separation made the following comments on them in a paper ten years ago: "It was in America, where there had been no persecution worth mentioning since Mary Dyer was hang'd on Boston Common, that about fifty years ago differences arose, singularly enough upon doctrinal points of the divinity of Christ and the nature of the atonement.
That I cannot do, but I can do some sort of a Lord, as some Lords are wiser than other-some; there is your witty Lord, him I defie; your wise Lord, that is to say, your knavish Lord, him I renounce; then there's your Politick Lord, him I wou'd have hang'd; then there's your Foolish Lord, let him follow the Politician; then there's your brisk, pert, noisy Lord, and such a small insignificant Fiend I care not if I am possest with; I shall deal well enough with a Devil of his capacity.
"The very ditty I heard," cried Father Eastgate; "but list, he has more of it." And the voice resumed, "He shall be rich, yet poor as me, Abbot, and Earl of Poverty. Monk and soldier, rich and poor, He shall be hang'd at his own door." Loud derisive laughter followed the song. "By our Lady of Whalley, the knave is mocking us," cried the abbot; "send a bolt to silence him, Cuthbert."
She would deserve to be hang'd if she was a witch, an' it could be proven upon her." But these assurances gave no heartening to the gallant cavalier; on the contrary, he looked like one that was perplexed, and said, "Devil take her, I wish I had had nothing to do with her." "Do," cried Robin; "sir, she's an auld withered hag, would spean a foal.
We hang'd our harps and instruments The willow trees upon: For in that place, men, for that use, Had planted many a one. My master then read: I. When sad I sat in B n-hall, All guarded round about, And thought of ev'ry absent friend, The tears for grief burst out. My joys and hopes all overthrown, My heart-strings almost broke, Unfit my mind for melody, Much more to bear a joke.
I intend to bring ours to the Dignity of the French Stage; and I have Horace's Advice of my Side; we have many Things both said and done in our Comedies, which might be better perform'd behind the Scenes: The French, you know, banish all Cruelty from their Stage; and I don't see why we should bring on a Lady in ours, practising all manner of Cruelty upon her Lover: beside, Sir, we do not only produce it, but encourage it; for I could name you some Comedies, if I would, where a Woman is brought in for four Acts together, behaving to a worthy Man in a Manner for which she almost deserves to be hang'd; and in the Fifth, forsooth, she is rewarded with him for a Husband: Now, Sir, as I know this hits some Tastes, and am willing to oblige all, I have given every Lady a Latitude of thinking mine has behaved in whatever Manner she would have her."
My Friend Sir ROGER has often told me with a great deal of Mirth, that at his first coming to his Estate he found three Parts of his House altogether useless; that the best Room in it had the Reputation of being haunted, and by that means was locked up; that Noises had been heard in his long Gallery, so that he could not get a Servant to enter it after eight a Clock at Night; that the Door of one of his Chambers was nailed up, because there went a Story in the Family that a Butler had formerly hang'd himself in it; and that his Mother, who lived to a great Age, had shut up half the Rooms in the House, in which either her Husband, a Son, or Daughter had died.
So as Trincolo says, wou'd you were both hang'd for me, for putting me in mind of my Husband. For I have e'en no better luck than either of you Let our two Fates warn your approaching one: I love young Bredwel and must plead for him. Dia. I know his Virtue justifies my Choice: But Pride and Modesty forbids I shou'd unlov'd pursue him. Let. Wrong not my Brother so, who dies for you Dia.
This gentleman was the first of his family who had the honour to suffer for the good of his country: on whom a wit of that time made the following epitaph: O shame o' justice! Wild is hang'd, For thatten he a pocket fang'd, While safe old Hubert, and his gang, Doth pocket o' the nation fang.
He that speaks the things he should not, hears the things he would not. He that is evil deem'd is half hang'd. He that tholes, overcomes. He rises over early that is hangit ere noon. He that forsakes missour, missour forsake him. Half a tale is enough to a wise man. He that hews over hie, the spail will fall into his eye. He that eats while he lasts, will be the war while he die.
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