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I did it, I did it; she swooned at the News, shut her self up a whole Month in her Chamber; but I presented high: she sigh'd and wept, and swore she'd never marry: still I presented; she hated, loathed, spit upon me; still, adod, I presented, till I presented my self effectually in Church to her; for she at last wisely considered her Vows were cancell'd, since Bellmour was hang'd. Bel.

Though thou'rt like Judas, an apostate black, In the resemblance one thing thou dost lack: When he had gotten his ill-purchased pelf, He went away, and wisely hang'd himself: This thou may'st do at last; yet much I doubt, If thou hash any bowels to gush out. Lord ... Stanhope.

As the judge went downstairs after the man had been acquitted, "an hideous old woman" cried to him, "My Lord, Forty Years ago they would have hang'd me for a Witch, and they could not; and now they would have hang'd my poor Son." The five cases we have cited, while not so celebrated as those on the other side, were quite as representative of what was going on in England.

He, who robs the King's stores of the least bit of junk, Is hang'd while he's safe, who has plunder'd my Trunk! * There's a phrase amongst lawyers, when nune's put for tune; But, tune and nune both, must I grieve for my Trunk! Huge leaves of that great commentator, old Brunck, Perhaps was the paper that lin'd my poor Trunk!

Then after that was I an usurer, And with extorting, cozening, forfeiting, And tricks belonging unto brokery, I fill'd the jails with bankrupts in a year, And with young orphans planted hospitals, And every moon made some or other mad; And now and then one hang'd himself for grief, Pinning upon his breast a long great scroll, How I with interest tormented him."

Not by one, Sir, but by a great many; this was a Cheesemonger they fell out over a Bottle of Brandy, went to Snicker Snee; Mr. Bellmour cut his Throat, and was hang'd for't, that's all, Sir. Bel. And did the young Lady believe this? Ral. Ralph. Bel. So, here's a hopeful Account of my sweet self now. Enter Post-man with Letters. Post. Pray, Sir, which is Sir Feeble Fainwou'd's? Bel.

Hold, honest Francis: What, dost think 'twas in kindness to him! No, you Fool, I got his Pardon my self, that no body else should have it, so that if he gets any body to speak to his Majesty for it, his Majesty cries he has granted it; but for want of my appearance, he's defunct, trust up, hang'd, Francis. Bel. This is the most excellent revenge I ever heard of. Sir Feeb.

I do disown her, since she is so wicked To bid me kill my Friend. Why, thou'rt my Friend, Alcander. Alcan. I'll forgive thee that. Fal. So will not his Majesty: I may be hang'd for't. Alcan. Thou should'st be damn'd e'er disobey thy Mistress. Fal. These be degrees of Love I am not yet arriv'd at; When I am, I shall be as ready to be damn'd In honour as any Lover of you all. Alcan.

"Jack they have horses outside! Leave me I am ta'en and ride, dear lad ride!" In a flash my decision was taken, for better or worse. I dash'd out around the house, vaulted the gate, and catching at Molly's mane, leap'd into the saddle. A dozen troopers were at the gate, and two had their pistols levell'd. "Surrender!" "Be hang'd if I do!" I set my teeth and put Molly at the low wall.

"Settle's way from his cradle," growl'd another; "and times enough I've told 'n: 'Cap'n, says I, 'there's no sense o' proportions about ye. A master mind, sirs, but 'a 'll be hang'd for a hen-roost, so sure as my name's Bill Widdicomb." "Ugly words-what a creeping influence has that same mention o' hanging!" piped a thinner voice.