He was drinking nothing, and when--my wine having been brought--I called in courtesy for a second glass and invited him to join me, he shook his head sourly.

Yet presently he closed his book, which I now perceived to be a Bible, and fixed an earnest gaze on me.

He was a strange-looking fellow; his face was very thin and long, and his hair (for he wore his own and no wig) hung straight from the crown of his head in stiff wisps.

I set him down as a Ranter, and was in no way surprised when he began to inveigh against the evils of the times, and to prophesy the judgment of God on the sins of the city.
"Pestilence hath come and fire hath come," he cried.

"Yet wickedness is not put away, and lewdness vaunteth herself, and the long-suffering of God is abused." All this seeming to me very tedious, I sipped my wine and made no answer.