FOOTNOTES: [A] At the hospital of Saint Giles for Lazars, the prisoners conveyed from the City of London towards Tyburn, there to be executed for treasons, felonies, or other trespasses, were presented with a Bowl of Ale, thereof to drink, as their last refreshing in this life. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply. “I do not wish to make impertinent inquiries into your private life. ” She replied. Her gratitude swelled within her. A queer game this: he could not move directly as in an ordinary case of manhunt.
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