"Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman; "but I couldn't belave it. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone. I was not even sure whether it was loaded. I feel like a fraudulent trustee. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer.
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