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. Wood with the circumstances, and putting him upon his guard against the possibility of an attack. No offence, I hope. He did not like it, he said, with a significant look, to be reminded of either his books or his dinners after he had done with them. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. As in all things, so his thoughts came to him deliberately.
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