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Moll Cutpurse。
Tyrants both； they exercised their sovereignty in accordance with their
varying temperament。 Hers was a fine； fat； Falstaffian humour； which；
while it inspired Middleton； might have suggested to Shakespeare an equal
companion of the drunken knight。 His was but a narrow； cynic wit； not
edged like the knife； which wellnigh cut his throat； but blunt and
scratching like a worn…toothed saw。
She laughed with a laugh that echoed from Ludgate to Charing Cross；
and her voice drowned all the City。 He grinned rarely and with malice；
he piped in a voice shrill and acid as the tricks of his mischievous
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imagination。 She knew no cruelty beyond the necessities of her life； and
none regretted more than she the inevitable death of a traitor。 He lusted
after destruction with a fiendish temper； which was a grim anticipation of
De Sade； he would even smile as he saw the noose tighten round the necks
of the poor innocents he had beguiled to Tyburn。 It was his boast that he
had contrived robberies for the mere glory of dragging his silly victims to
the gallows。 But Moll； though she stood half…way between the robber
and his prey； would have sacrificed a hundred well…earned commissions
rather than see her friends and comrades strangled。 Her temperament
compelled her to the loyal support of her own order； and she would have
shrunk in horror from her rival； who； for all his assumed friendship with
the thief； was a staunch and subtle ally of justice。
Before all things she had the genius of success。 Her public offences
were trivial and condoned。 She died in her bed； full of years and of
honours； beloved by the light…fingered gentry； reverenced by all the judges
on the bench。 He； for all the sacrifices he made to a squint…eyed law；
died execrated alike by populace and police。 Already Blueskin had done
his worst with a pen…knife； already Jack Sheppard and his comrades had
warned Drury Lane against the infamous thief…catcher。 And so anxious；
on the other hand； was the law to be quit of their too zealous servant； that
an Act of Parliament was passed with the sole object of placing Jonathan's
head within the noose。 His method； meagre though masterly； lulled him
too soon to an impotent security。 She； with her larger view of life； her
plumper sense of style； was content with nothing less than an ultimate
sovereignty； and manifestly did she prove her superiority。
Though born for the wimple； she was more of a man than the breeched
and stockinged Jonathan； whose only deed of valiance was to hang； terrier…
like； by his teeth to an evasive enemy。 While he cheated at cards and
cogged the dice； she trained dogs and never missed a bear…baiting。 He
shrank； like the coward that he was； from the exercise of manly sports； she
cared not what were the weaponsquarterstaff or broadswordso long as
she vanquished her opponent。 She scoured the town in search of insult；
he did but exert his cunning when a quarrel was put upon him。 Who；
then； shall deny her manhood？ Who shall whisper that his style was the
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braver or the better suited to his sex？
As became a hero； she kept the best of loose company： her parlour was
ever packed with the friends of loyalty and adventure。 Are not Hind and
Mull Sack worth a thousand Blueskins？ Moreover； plunder and wealth
were not the only objects of her pursuit： she was not merely a fence but a
patriot； and she would have accounted a thousand pounds well lost； if she
did but compass the discomfiture of a Parliament…man。 Indeed； if
Jonathan； the thief…catcher； limped painfully after his magnificent example；
Jonathan the man and the sportsman confessed a pitiful inferiority to the
valiant Moll。 Thus she avenged her sex by distancing the most illustrious
of her rivals； and if he pleads for his credit a taste for theology； hers is the
chuckle of contemptuous superiority。 She died a patriot； bequeathing a
fountain of wine to the champions of an exiled king； he died a casuist；
setting crabbed problems to the Ordinary。 Here； again； the advantage is
evident： loyalty is the virtue of men； a sudden attachment to religion is the
last resource of the second…rate citizen and of the trapped criminal。
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RALPH BRISCOE
A SPARE； lean frame； a small head set forward upon a pair of sloping
shoulders； a thin； sharp nose； and rat…like eyes； a flat； hollow chest； shrunk
shanks； modestly retreating from their snuff…coloured hosethese are the
tokens which served to remind his friends of Ralph Briscoe； the Clerk of
Newgate。 As he left the prison in the grey air of morning upon some
errand of mercy or revenge； he appeared the least fearsome of mortals；
while an awkward limp upon his left toe deepened the impression of
timidity。 So abstract was his manner； so hesitant his gait； that he would
hug the wall as he went； nervously stroking its grimy surface with his long；
twittering fingers。 But Ralph； as justice and the Jug knew too well； was
neither fool nor coward。 His character belied his outward seeming。 A
large soul had crept into the case of his wizened body； and if a poltroon
among his ancestors had gifted him with an alien type； he had inherited
from some nameless warrior both courage and resource。
He was born in easy circumstances； and gently nurtured in the distant
village of Kensington。 Though cast in a scholar's mould； and very apt for
learning； he rebelled from the outset against a career of inaction。 His
lack of strength was never a check upon his high stomach； he would fight
with boys of twice his size； and accept the certain defeat in a cheerful
spirit of dogged pugnacity。 Moreover； if his arms were weak； his
cunning was as keen…edged as his tongue； and； before his stricken eye had
paled； he had commonly executed an ample vengeance upon his enemy。
Nor was it industry that placed him at the top of the class。 A ready wit
made him master of the knowledge he despised。
But he would always desert his primer to follow the hangman's
lumbering cart up Tyburn Hill； and； still a mere imp of mischief； he would
run the weary way from Kensington to Shoe Lane on the distant chance of
a cock…fight。 He was present； so he would relate in after years； when Sir
Thomas Jermin's man put his famous trick upon the pit。 With a hundred
pounds in his pocket and under his arm a dunghill cock； neatly trimmed
for the fray； the ingenious ruffian； as Briscoe would tell you； went off to
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Shoe Lane； persuaded an accomplice to fight the cock in Sir Thomas
Jermin's name； and laid a level hundred against his own bird。 So lofty
was Sir Thomas's repute that backers were easily found； but the dunghill
rooster instantly showed a clean pair of heels； and the cheat was justified
of his cunning。
Thus Ralph Briscoe learnt the first lessons in that art of sharping
wherein he was afterwards an adept； and when he left school his head was
packed with many a profitable device which no book learning could
impart。 His father； however； still resolute that he should join an
intelligent profession； sent him to Gray's Inn that he might study law。
Here the elegance of his handwriting gained him a rapid repute； his skill
became the envy of all the lean…souled clerks in the Inn； and he might have
died a respectable attorney had not the instinct of sport forced him from
the inkpot and parchment of his profession。 Ill could he tolerate the
monotony and restraint of this clerkly life。 In his eyes law was an
instrument； not of justice； but of jugglery。 Men were born； said his
philosophy； rather to risk their necks than ink their fingers； and if a bold
adventure puts you in a difficulty； why； then； you hire some straw…splitting
attorney to show his cunning。 Indeed； the study of law was for him； as it
was for Falstaff； an excuse for many a bout and merry…making。 He loved
his glass； and he loved his wench； and he loved a bull… baiting better than
either。 It was his boast； and Moll Cutpurse's compliment； that he never
missed a match in his life； and assuredly no man was better known in Paris
Garden than the intrepid Ralph Briscoe。
The cloistered seclusion of Gray's Inn grew daily more irksome。
There he would sit； in mute despair； drumming the table with his fingers；
and biting the quill； whose use he so bitterly contemned。 Of winter
afternoons he would stare through the leaded window…panes at the gaunt；
leafless trees； on whose summits swayed the cawing rooks； until servitude
seemed intolerable； an