But
alas! he had kept his brain so long and so violently upon the rack,
that at last it shook itself, and began to turn round for a little
ease. In short, what with pride, projects, and knavery, poor Peter
was grown distracted, and conceived the strangest imaginations in
the world. In the height of his fits (as it is usual with those who
run mad out of pride) he would call himself God Almighty, and
sometimes monarch of the universe. I have seen him (says my author)
take three old high-crowned hats, and clap them all on his head,
three storey high, with a huge bunch of keys at his girdle, and an
angling rod in his hand. In which guise, whoever went to take him
by the hand in the way of salutation, Peter with much grace, like a
well-educated spaniel, would present them with his foot, and if they
refused his civility, then he would raise it as high as their chops,
and give them a damned kick on the mouth, which hath ever since been
called a salute. Whoever walked by without paying him their
compliments, having a wonderful strong breath, he would blow their
hats off into the dirt.
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