Then he sensed the trap. " "How had he offended you?" inquired the widow. Always as black and bitter as gall. 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. " "'Bloody and deceitful men shall not live half their days'," said Wood, reading aloud another passage. ’ It had not before occurred to him, but this realisation fuelled the general’s growing conviction that he was being imposed upon in some way.
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