And below that, by still another hand:
“Neither has the Need come to me. I pass it to my son.
“D.D.”
And below that, by still another hand:
“Nor to me. I pass it to my son.
“M.D.”
And below that:
“The Extremity of Need brushed by me so close I heard the rustling of its gown, but I did not dig. I have sufficient for me, and I am the last of my line. I pass it, therefore, to my good friend Hugh Croyden (and, in the event that he predecease me, to his son Geoffrey Croyden), to whom Clarendon will go upon my demise.
“D.D.”