The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 192: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

174 THE COURT OF LONDON upon the right eye, which it completely bunged up; but as the use of the left optic still remained, and as the heaviness of the purse convinced the waiter that it contained a tolerable quantity of golden salve, he took the joke with a proportion- ate amount of good humour. But leaving the aristocratic party to the enjoyment of their punch, discourse, and practical freaks, we will pene- trate into the prison of Newgate and glance at Mr. Dysart in the condemned cell. | It was now eleven o’clock, and the criminal was alone in that dungeon. Upon the little round table stood a cold fowl and a bottle of wine, to which he was paying his respects with all imaginable ease and comfort; for the nearer the hour approached for him to mount the scaffold, the more joyfully did he look forward to it as the term of the ordeal through which he was passing. In plainer terms, he was so well convinced that the reprieve would be produced the moment the halter was affixed to his neck, and that a free pardon would follow as a matter of course in a few days, that he was actually impatient for the hour which would terminate what he now looked upon as mere “ bother, excitement, and annoyance.”’ Ernestina had visited him daily since his condemnation; and on each occasion she had some new proof to offer of the prince’s kind feelings toward him. Moreover, the governor, entirely misled by her representations and obse- quiously anxious to oblige her, had given Dysart the most positive assurances that the sheriff would produce the reprieve upon the scaffold. He had even gone so far as to hint the same to the chaplain; and this reverend gentleman, while discussing a bottle of wine with Mr. Dysart in his cell, had reiterated the governor’s assurances. Under all these circumstances, therefore, the prisoner entertained no fear as to the result; and while the gathering crowds in the Old Bailey were observing amongst themselves how dreadful his feelings must be, he was comfortably regaling his appe- tite on a cold capon and an excellent bottle of sherry. Having partaken of his supper, Dysart undressed and retired to bed, where he speedily fell into a sound sleep. As the night advanced, the multitudes increased outside the gaol, and at five o’clock in the morning the carpenters made their appearance to erect the barrier around the CONMIClOOl<S (E(@)