I believed that our marriage was genuine. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. The Bishop, however, to show him the danger of meddling with the church, gave him a dance at Tyburn for his pains.
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