ed myself to a French mountebank posture-master to dance Corantoes
on the Tight and Slack Rope, accompanying myself meanwhile by reveilles
on the Drum, an instrument in which I had become a proficient. The
Posture Master, finding out afterwards that I was agile and Valiant, not
only at Dancing but at Fighting, must needs have me wield the broadsword
and the quarterstaff against all comers on a public platform; and, as
the Irish Amazon, I achieved great success, and had my Employer not been
a thief, should have gained much money. He was in the habit, not only of
robbing his woman-performers, but of beating them; but I promise you the
first time the villain offered to slash at me with his dog-whip, I had
him under the jaw with my fist in the handsomest manner, and then
tripping up his heels, and hurling him down on his own stage, and
(having a right piece of ashplant in my grip) I did so curry his hide in
sight of a full audience, that he howled for mercy, and the groundlings,
who thought it part of the show, clapped their hands till they were sore
and shouted till they were hoarse. Our engagement came to an end after
this, and in a somewhat disagreeable manner for me; for the
Posture-Master happened to be the by-blow of a Doctor of the Sorbonne,
who was brother to an Abbe, who was brother to an opera-dancer, who had
interest with a cardinal, who was uncle to a gentleman of the Chamber,
who was one of Pere la Chaise's pet penitents; and this Reverend Father,
having the King's ear, denounced me to his Majesty as a Spy, a Heretic,
a Jansenist, a _Coureuse_, and all sorts of things; and by a _lettre de
Cachet_, as they call their warrants, I was sent off to the prison of
the Madelonettes, there to diet on bread and water, to be herded with
the vilest of my sex, to card wool, and to receive, morning and evening,
the Discipline (as they call it) of Leathern thongs, ten to a handful,
and three blood-knots in each. I grew sick of being tawed for offences I
had never committed, and so made bold one morning to try and strangle
the Mother of the Workroom, who sat over us with a rattan, while we
carded wool. Upon which I was bound to a post, and received more
stripes, my lad, in an hour than ever your Schoolmaster gave you in a
week. That same night I tried to burn the prison down; and then they put
me in the dark dungeon called La Grande Force, with six inches of water
in it and any number of rats. I was threatened with prosecution at