s, I hope thou wilt allow, warrants me to try
for.

I return to the consideration of a few more of its contents, to justify
my vengeances so nearly now in view.

As to Mrs. Townsend,--her manlike spirit--her two brothers--and the
ships' crews--I say nothing but this to the insolent threatening--Let 'em
come!--But as to her sordid menace--To repay the horrid villain, as she
calls me, for all my vileness by BROKEN BONES!--Broken bones, Belford!--
Who can bear this porterly threatening!--Broken bones, Jack!--D--n the
little vulgar!--Give me a name for her--but I banish all furious
resentment. If I get these two girls into my power, Heaven forbid that I
should be a second Phalaris, who turned his bull upon the artist!--No
bones of their's will I break--They shall come off with me upon much
lighter terms!--

But these fellows are smugglers, it seems. And am not I a smuggler too?
--I am--and have not the least doubt but I shall have secured my goods
before Thursday, or Wednesday either.

But did I want a plot, what a charming new one does this letter of Miss
Howe strike me out! I am almost sorry, that I have fixed upon one.--For
here, how easy would it be for me to assemble a crew of swabbers, and to
create a Mrs. Townsend (whose person, thou seest, my beloved knows not)
to come on Tuesday, at Miss Howe's repeated solicitations, in order to
carry my beloved to a warehouse of my own providing?

This, however, is my triumphant hope, that at the very time that these
ragamuffins will be at Hampstead (looking for us) my dear Miss Harlowe
and I [so the Fates I imagine have ordained] shall be fast asleep in
each other's arms in town.--Lie still, villain, till the time comes.--
My heart, Jack! my heart!--It is always thumping away on the remotest
prospects of this nature.

But it seems that the vileness of this specious monster [meaning me,
Jack!] has brought Hickman into credit with her. So I have done some
good! But to whom I cannot tell: for this poor fellow, should I permit
him to have this termagant, will be punished, as many times we all are,
by the enjoyment of his own wishes--nor can she be happy, as I take it,
with him, were he to govern himself by her will, and have none of his
own; since never was there a directing wife who knew where to stop: power
makes such a one wanton--she despises the man she can govern. Like
Alexander, who wept, that he had no more worlds to conquer, she will be
looking out for new exer