This footstool Habakkuk kicked away, and left poor Jack swinging like the pendulum of Paul's clock.

The fatal noose performed its office, and with most strict ligature squeezed the blood into his face till it assumed a purple dye.

While the poor man heaved from the very bottom of his belly for breath, Habakkuk walked with great deliberation into both the upper and lower room, to acquaint his friends, who received the news with great temper, and with jeers and scoffs instead of pity.

"Jack has hanged himself!" quoth they; "let us go and see how the poor rogue swings." Then they called Sir Roger.

"Sir Roger," quoth Habakkuk, "Jack has hanged himself; make haste and cut him down." Sir Roger turned first one ear and then the other, not understanding what he said.
HAB .-- I tell you Jack has hanged himself up.
SIR ROGER .-- Who's hanged?
HAB .-- Jack.
SIR ROGER .-- I thought this had not been hanging day.
HAB .-- But the poor fellow has hanged himself.
SIR ROGER .-- Then let him hang.