The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance. " "I don't desire it, Sir," replied Mrs. " "I can't endure the odious baggage. " "What's that?" asked Wood with some curiosity. 59 He was not present during the night the next morning, or the next, or the next. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire.
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