[H]e had once lost his bag, and a considerable quantity of hair, which had been cut off by some rascal in his passage through Ludgate, during the lord mayor's procession.
Sorry I can't give more detail, I don't remember exactly what I did, either the path to wedgitude or the escape route.
Accordingly, after a vast amount of moaning and crying up-stairs, and much damping of foreheads, and vinegaring of temples, and hartshorning of noses, and so forth […]
[…] men in distress will look to themselves in the First Place, and leave their Companions to Shift as well as they can. check it out online
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