They have retired. You're alone, too, child. “Is that a challenge?” She shrugged her shoulders, all ablaze with jewels. Her body was perpetually tanned, despite the approach of winter. The wedding day came shortly after she turned fourteen. “You must play for us again sometime. 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.
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