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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. But his own situation was too perilous to admit of his rendering any assistance to the ill-fated waterman. “I would not have you go for anything,” she answered. Gerald instantly took her arm and guided her back to her chair. "If you won't disclose your name, I will for you! You are Jonathan Wild!" "Further concealment is needless," answered the other, pulling off his wig and black patch, and resuming his natural tone of voice; "I am Jonathan Wild!" "Say you so!" rejoined Kneebone; "then be this your passport to eternity. " "I don't wonder at it," rejoined Gay. ’ ‘His daughter, ma’am?’ Gerald asked. Now what? There was an interest, or why ask him who they were. "Nothing!" echoed the other, scornfully. ” “It isn’t necessary,” they both declared breathlessly. "My name is Darrell," said the fugitive hastily. ’ ‘Yes, she duped me finely,’ agreed Gerald.

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This video was uploaded to brazilianportuguese.biz on 12-07-2024 11:07:32

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