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nours, the rewards of merit, to the highest bidder.—This Cornelian I wear in honour of a priest whom I strangled with my own hand, for his most pious and passionate lamentation over the fall of the Inquisition.—I could expatiate at large, Sir, on the history of these rings, if I did not repent already that I have wasted words on a man unworthy to hear me.

Is there so much pride in a vile felon?

Stop, Sir.—I shall now talk with some pride to you!—Go, tell your most august magistrate—he that throws the dice on life and death—tell him, I am none of those banditti who are in compact with sleep, and with the midnight hour—I scale no walls in the dark, and force no locks to plunder.—What I have done shall be engraven in that book where all the actions of mankind are recorded—in heaven's eternal register:—But with you poor ministers of earthly justice, I hold no further communing.—Tell your master, that my trade is the lex talionis; Like for like:—Vengeance is my trade! (He turns his back upon him with contempt.)