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