Thus had it like to have
happened to Mrs. Honour, who, instead of recovering the rest of her
clothes, had like to have stopped even those she had on her back
from escaping; for the squire no sooner heard of her having abused his
sister, than he swore twenty oaths he would send her to Bridewell.
Mrs. Western was a very good-natured woman, and ordinarily of a
forgiving temper. She had lately remitted the trespass of a
stage-coachman, who had overturned her post-chaise into a ditch;
nay, she had even broken the law, in refusing to prosecute a
highwayman who had robbed her, not only of a sum of money, but of
her ear-rings; at the same time d--ning her, and saying, "Such
handsome b-s as you don't want jewels to set them off, and be d--n'd
to you." But now, so uncertain are our tempers, and so much do we at
different times differ from ourselves, she would hear of no
mitigations; nor could all the affected penitence of Honour, nor all
the entreaties of Sophia for her own servant, prevail with her to
desist from earnestly desiring her brother to execute justiceship (for
it was indeed a syllable more than justice) on the wench.
But luckily the clerk had a qualification, which no clerk to a
justice of peace ought ever to be without, namely, some
understanding in the law of this realm. He therefore whispered in
the ear of the justice that he would exceed his authority by
committing the girl to Bridewell, as there had been no attempt to
break the peace; "for I am afraid, sir," says he, "you cannot
legally commit any one to Bridewell only for ill-breeding.
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