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But he might have broken out of prison, and yet not got over the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell. "Inequality of rank can be no bar to our union," continued Kneebone. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. 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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