CHAPTER FOURTEEN WILD PROCEEDS TO THE HIGHEST CONSUMMATION OF HUMAN GREATNESS.
The day now drew nigh when our great man was to exemplify the lastand noblest act of greatness by which any hero can signalisehimself. This was the day of execution, or consummation, orapotheosis (for it is called by different names), which was togive our hero an opportunity of facing death and damnation,without any fear in his heart, or, at least, without betraying anysymptoms of it in his countenance. A completion of greatness whichis heartily to be wished to every great man; nothing being moreworthy of lamentation than when Fortune, like a lazy poet, windsup her catastrophe aukwardly, and, bestowing too little care onher fifth act, dismisses the hero with a sneaking and privateexit, who had in the former part of the drama performed suchnotable exploits as must promise to every good judge among thespectators a noble, public, and exalted end.
But she was resolved to commit no such error in this instance. Ourhero was too much and too deservedly her favourite to be neglectedby her in his last moments; accordingly all efforts for a reprievewere vain, and the name of Wild stood at the head of those whowere ordered for execution.
From the time he gave over all hopes of life, his conduct wastruly great and admirable. Instead of shewing any marks ofdejection or contrition, he rather infused more confidence andassurance into his looks. He spent most of his hours in drinkingwith his friends and with the good man above commemorated. In oneof these compotations, being asked whether he was afraid to die,he answered, "D--n me, it is only a dance without music." Anothertime, when one expressed some sorrow for his misfortune, as hetermed it, he said with great fierceness--"A man can die butonce." Again, when one of his intimate acquaintance hinted hishopes, that he would die like a man, he cocked his hat indefiance, and cried out greatly--"Zounds! who's afraid?"
Happy would it have been for posterity, could we have retrievedany entire conversation which passed at this season, especiallybetween our hero and his learned comforter; but we have searchedmany pasteboard records in vain.
On the eve of his apotheosis, Wild's lady desired to see him, towhich he consented. This meeting was at first very tender on bothsides; but it could not continue so, for unluckily, some hints offormer miscarriages intervening, as particularly when she askedhim how he could have used her so barbarously once as calling herb--, and whether such language became a man, much less agentleman, Wild flew into a violent passion, and swore she was thevilest of b--s to upbraid him at such a season with an unguardedword spoke long ago. She replied, with many tears, she was wellenough served for her folly in visiting such a brute; but she hadone comfort, however, that it would be the last time he could evertreat her so; that indeed she had some obligation to him, for thathis cruelty to her would reconcile her to the fate he was to-morrow to suffer; and, indeed, nothing but such brutality couldhave made the consideration of his shameful death (so this weakwoman called hanging), which was now inevitable, to be borne evenwithout madness. She then proceeded to a recapitulation of hisfaults in an exacter order, and with more perfect memory, than onewould have imagined her capable of; and it is probable would haverehearsed a complete catalogue had not our hero's patience failedhim, so that with the utmost fury and violence he caught her bythe hair and kicked her, as heartily as his chains would sufferhim, out of the room.