F. By this time, several of the terrified domestics appeared with lights. She replied softly. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! II. Since Mary predeceased Jarvis, Nicholas could scarcely argue himself to be my brother’s next of kin. You told me he was going back to Newgate after supper, so I mayn't have another opportunity.
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