For whom had its sharp point been intended? Valade? Or perhaps his wife now that the girl had word of their marriage. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. ’ Gerald suppressed a grin. Something happened down there, and probably I'll never know what. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor.
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