"I am here, thought I, like a poor condemned Criminal, who knows his Execution is fixed for such a Day, nay such an Hour, and dies over and over in Imagination, and by the Torture of his Mind, till that Hour comes"
— Paltock, Robert (1697-1767)
Author
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for J. Robinson, ... and R. Dodsley, [etc.]
Date
1751
Metaphor
"I am here, thought I, like a poor condemned Criminal, who knows his Execution is fixed for such a Day, nay such an Hour, and dies over and over in Imagination, and by the Torture of his Mind, till that Hour comes"
Metaphor in Context
I had now cut a Piece of my Shirt, for a Wick to my last Drop of Oyl, which I twisted and light. I burnt the Oyl in my Brass Tobacco-Box, [Page 94] which I had fitted pretty well to answer the Purpose. Sitting down, I had many black Thoughts, of what must follow the Loss of my Light, which I considered as near expiring, and that, I feared, for ever. I am here, thought I, like a poor condemned Criminal, who knows his Execution is fixed for such a Day, nay such an Hour, and dies over and over in Imagination, and by the Torture of his Mind, till that Hour comes: That Hour, which he so much dreads! and yet that very Hour which releases him from all further dread. Thus do I, my last Wick is kindled; my last Drop of Fuel is consuming; and I am every Moment apprehending the Shocks of the Rock, the Suffocation of the Water; and, in short, thinking over my dying Thoughts, till the Snuff of my Lamp throws up its last curling expiring Flame, and then my Quietus will be presently signed, and I released from my tormenting Anxiety. Happy Minute, come then, I only wait for thee.
Categories
Provenance
Searching in HDIS (Prose)
Date of Entry
01/18/2006
