In the tableau of the last act with the blood upon his brow.
Punch, November 11, 1843.
He Dined at Bertholini’s.
He dined at Bertholini’s, the day when first we met,
A pint of single stout was on the board before him set;
His dinner had the lightness—his voice the humble tone
Of one to whom a shilling was not intimately known;
I saw him but a moment, but I think I see him now,
In that hat of time-worn gossamer that drooped upon his brow.