The poor man
protested he had never read the offensive matter; it was brought to
him by a maid-servant; he had earned forty shillings by printing it.
"When he was pronounced guilty, he humbly begged for mercy, pleading
poverty, his young children, and his ignorance of the contents of the
paper. 'I'll tell you what you shall do,' roared the brutal wretch who
sat on the bench, 'ask mercy of them that can give it--that is, of God
and the king.' The prisoner said, 'I humbly beseech you to intercede
with his majesty for mercy.' 'Tie him up, executioner,' cried the
judge; 'I speak it from my soul: I think we have the greatest
happiness in the world in enjoying what we do under so good and
gracious a king; yet you, Gwyn, in the rancor of your heart, thus to
abuse him, deserve no mercy.' In a similar strain he continued for
several minutes, and then passed upon the prisoner the following
sentence: He was to be drawn to the place of execution upon a hurdle,
and there hanged by the neck. While still alive he was to be cut down,
castrated, and disemboweled. 'And you still living,' added the judge,
'your entrails are to be burnt before your eyes, your head to be cut
off, and your head and quarters to be disposed of at the pleasure of
the king's majesty.' The printer was overwhelmed with terror, and in
his great agony he cried to the judge again to intercede for him.
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