Reverfion; the Credit of which brought him more than was left him, but his Brother taking a Pett at him, devifed the Eftate to I know not what Bastard: He flies far that flies his Relations. Befides, this Brother of his had Whisperers about him, that were back friends to the other: But he shall never do right that is quick of belief, especially in matters of Bufinefs; and yet, 'tis true, he'll be counted wife while he lives, to whom the thing, whatever it be, is given; not that he ought to have had it. He was, without doubt, one of Fortune's Sons; Lead in his Hand would turn to Gold, and without trouble too, where there are not Rubbs in the way. And how many Years think you he liv'd? Seventy-odd but he was as hard as Horn, bore his Age well, and as black as a Crow.

I knew him fome Years ago an Oil-man, and to his last a good Womans Man; but withal fuch a Mifer, that, by Hercules, I think he left not a Dog in his Houfe. He was also a great Whore-mafter, and a Jack of all Trades; nor do I condemn` him for't, for this was the only Secret he kept to himTelf and carry'd with him.

Thus Phileros, and Ganmiedes as followeth: Ye talk of what concerns neither Heaven nor Earth, when in the mean time no Man regards the fcarcity of Provifions: I could not, by Hercules, get a piece of Bread to Day; and how do you think this came to pass? Why the drought continues: For my part, I have not fill'd my Belly this

Twelve

Twelvemonth: A plague on thefe Clerks of the Market, the Baker and they juggle together, Claw me and I'll claw thee, which makes the poorer fort ftarve, whilft Rich Perfons make Holiday all the Year. Oh that we had those Lyons I now find here, when I came first out of Afia, that had been to live: The inner part of Sicily had the like of them, but they fo handled the Goblins, even Jupiter bore them no Good-will. I remember Safinius, when he was a Boy, he Ilv'd by the Old Exchange; you'd have taken him for a Pepper-corn rather than a Man; where-ever he went the Earth parch'd under him; yet he was a fincere honeft Fellow at bottom; one might depend on him; a Friend to his Friend, and one you might boldly truft in the Dark. But how behav'd he himself on the Bench? He carry'd all things before him? made no starch'd Speeches, but was down, right, and acted himself what he perfuaded others to: But at the Barr he founded like a Kettle-drum, and never feign'd himself Sick for the matter. I fancy he was like a Frenchman in his Temper; for he was fo wonderfnl civil, fo ready to falute us by onr Names, we imagin'd him one of us.

In his time Bread was as cheap as Water, a Half-peny Loaf would have given a Man a Breakfast but now a Sheeps-head will fetch a Shilling: Alas, alas! the times are every Day worse and worse, like a Cows Tail, we grow downward: And why all this? We have a Clerk of the Market not worth a Rufh, and values

more

more the getting of a Penny than the Lives of all Mankind: Tis this makes him laugh in his Sleeve; for he gets as much Money in a Day as would purchase an Estate: I know very well how he got the Fortune he is Mafter of; but if we were Men, he would not enjoy himfelf as he does; but now the People are grown to this pafs, that they are Lyons at home, and Foxes abroad: For my part, I have eaten up my Cloaths already, and if Corn holds at the rate it does, I fhall be forc'd to fell my House and all: For what will become of us, if neither Gods nor Men have Mercy on us? Let me never be happy I don't believe all this proceeds from Heaven; for no body believes there is a God; no one keeps a Faft, or values Jupiter of a Hair, but all stop their Ears to good Advice, and only trouble their Heads about what they are worth. Time was when our Matrons went in Proceffion with bare Feet, and their Hair dishevel'd, then with fincere Minds they pray'd to Heaven for Rain, and forthwith it rained by Pitchers-full; then, or never, were good times, every body was in a good Humour: Now we have no more Reverence for the Gods, than for fo many Mice; they are bound Hand and Foot, and by reafon of our Irreligion and Prophaneness, our Fields and Meadows languish and are bar

ren.

More civilly, I beseech you, faid Echion, the Constable of the Hundred, the worfe Luck now, the better another time, faid the

Clown

(

Clown when he loft his brindled Hog: What falls not out to Day may happen to Morrow; and fo Life paffes away. By Hercules, a Country is faid not to be the better for having many People in it, tho' ours at prefent labours under that difficulty, but it is no fault of hers: We must not be nice, Heaven is equally diftant every where; were you in another place, you'd fay Hogs walked here ready drefs'd: And now I think on't, we shall have an excellent Show these Holy days, a Fencing-prize exhibited to the People; not of Slaves bought for that purpose, but it will confift of Freemen. Our Patron Titus has a large Soul, but is a very Devil in his Drink, and cares not a Straw which fide gets the better: I think I fhould know him, for I belong to him; he's of a right Breed both by Father and Mother, no Mungril They are well provided with Weapons, and will fight it out to the laft: The Stage will look like a Butcher's Shambles, and he has wherewithal to do it; his Father left him a vaft Sum, what tho' he make Ducks and. Drakes of a thousand Pound, his Estate will never feel it, and he always carries the Reputation of it. He has his Waggon Horses, a Woman-Carter, and Glyco's Steward, who was caught kiffing his Miftrefs; what a buftle's here between Cuckolds and Cuckoldmakers! But this Glyco a damnable Rich Huncks, condemn'd his Steward to fight with Beafts; and what was that but to ex pofe and make a Beast of himself? Where

lay

lay the Servant's Crime, who perhaps was o blig'd to do what he did? She rather deferv'd to be brain'd, than the Bull that toffed her; but he that cannot come at the Breech, thrashes at the Pack-faddle: yet how could Glyco expect Hermogine's Daughter fhould make a good End? the'd have skin'd a Flint; like begets its like Glyco might do what he would with his own; but it will be a Brand on him as long as he lives; nor can any thing but Hell blot it out; however every Man's Faults are to himself. I perceive now what Entertainment Mammea is like to give us; he'll be at Two-pence Charges for me and my Company, which if he does he will put Narbanus clean out of Favour; for you must know, he'll live at the full height; yet, in truth, what good has he done us? He gave us a Company of pittiful Sword-players, but fo old and decrepit, that had you breath'd on them, they'd have fallen flat on their Faces: I have feen many better at a Funeral Pile; he would not be at the charge of Lamps for them; you'd have taken 'em for a parcel of Dunghil Cocks fighting in the Dark: one was a downright Fool, and gouty into the bargain; another Crump-footed, and a third half dead, and Ham-ftrung: There was one of them a Thracian, that made a Figure, and kept up to the Rule of Fighting; but, upon the whole mattter, all of them were parted, and nothing came of this great block-headed Rabble, but a down-right running away: And yet, faid he, I made you a Show, and I clap

amongst