Her new husband had paid for a cadre of escorts back to Mantua. “They might do you good,” she remarked. ” “How does she become an Oracle, Sebastian? What is the recipe?” She asked, no longer playing innocent. He stood still, almost breathless. 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. She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one.
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