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Page 66
I now discovered to my extreme delight that I could have spoken had
not my mouth been tied up with the pocket-handkerchief. Consoling
myself with this reflection, I was mentally repeating some passages
of the "Omnipresence of the Deity," as is my custom before resigning
myself to sleep, when two cats, of a greedy and vituperative turn,
entering at a hole in the wall, leaped up with a flourish a la
Catalani, and alighting opposite one another on my visage, betook
themselves to indecorous contention for the paltry consideration of
my nose.
But, as the loss of his ears proved the means of elevating to the
throne of Cyrus, the Magian or Mige-Gush of Persia, and as the
cutting off his nose gave Zopyrus possession of Babylon, so the loss
of a few ounces of my countenance proved the salvation of my body.
Aroused by the pain, and burning with indignation, I burst, at a
single effort, the fastenings and the bandage. Stalking across the
room I cast a glance of contempt at the belligerents, and throwing
open the sash to their extreme horror and disappointment,
precipitated myself, very dexterously, from the window. this moment
passing from the city jail to the scaffold erected for his execution
in the suburbs. His extreme infirmity and long continued ill health
had obtained him the privilege of remaining unmanacled; and habited
in his gallows costume -- one very similar to my own, -- he lay at
full length in the bottom of the hangman's cart (which happened to be
under the windows of the surgeon at the moment of my precipitation)
without any other guard than the driver, who was asleep, and two
recruits of the sixth infantry, who were drunk.
As ill-luck would have it, I alit upon my feet within the vehicle.
immediately, he bolted out behind, and turning down an alley, was out
of sight in the twinkling of an eye. The recruits, aroused by the
bustle, could not exactly comprehend the merits of the transaction.
Seeing, however, a man, the precise counterpart of the felon,
standing upright in the cart before their eyes, they were of (so they
expressed themselves,) and, having communicated this opinion to one
another, they took each a dram, and then knocked me down with the
butt-ends of their muskets.
It was not long ere we arrived at the place of destination. Of course
nothing could be said in my defence. Hanging was my inevitable fate.
I resigned myself thereto with a feeling half stupid, half
acrimonious. Being little of a cynic, I had all the sentiments of a
dog. The hangman, however, adjusted the noose about my neck. The drop
fell.
I forbear to depict my sensations upon the gallows; although here,
undoubtedly, I could speak to the point, and it is a topic upon which
nothing has been well said. In fact, to write upon such a theme it is
necessary to have been hanged. Every author should confine himself to
matters of experience. Thus Mark Antony composed a treatise upon
getting drunk.
I may just mention, however, that die I did not. My body was, but I
had no breath to be, suspended; and but for the knot under my left
ear (which had the feel of a military stock) I dare say that I should
have experienced very little inconvenience. As for the jerk given to
my neck upon the falling of the drop, it merely proved a corrective
to the twist afforded me by the fat gentleman in the coach.
For good reasons, however, I did my best to give the crowd the worth
of their trouble. My convulsions were said to be extraordinary. My
spasms it would have been difficult to beat. The populace encored.
Several gentlemen swooned; and a multitude of ladies were carried
home in hysterics. Pinxit availed himself of the opportunity to
retouch, from a sketch taken upon the spot, his admirable painting of
the "Marsyas flayed alive."
When I had afforded sufficient amusement, it was thought proper to
remove my body from the gallows; -- this the more especially as the
real culprit had in the meantime been retaken and recognized, a fact
which I was so unlucky as not to know.
Much sympathy was, of course, exercised in my behalf, and as no one
made claim to my corpse, it was ordered that I should be interred in
a public vault.
Here, after due interval, I was deposited. The sexton departed, and I
was left alone. A line of Marston's "Malcontent"-
Death's a good fellow and keeps open house -- struck me at that
moment as a palpable lie.
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