But now that this bar is removed, I trust I may, without impropriety, urge it. By this time, the door was unlocked, and drawing his sword, Quilt entered the cell. Where the robber may cheer His spirit with beer, 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! III.
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