She got up, as she had been told to do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to custom, on her stool. 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 was it Faith? That is what she was this day going to find out. Melusine was loath to admit how much more lonely since Gerald chose not to visit her.
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