CHAP. 1.

GOod Cloaths are the embroi­dered Trappings of Pride; [...]nd Good Chear the very Eringo­ [...]t of Gluttony. Did Man, think you, come wrangling into the World about no better matters, than all his life-time to make privy search­es for Fashions, or for Pies of Nigh­ [...]ingals tongues in Heliogabalus his Kitchin? Oh! no: The first Suit of Apparel that ever mortal Man put on, came neither from the [Page 14] Mercers shops, nor the Merchan Ware-house. Adam's Bill would have been sooner taken, than. Knights Bond now. Yet was great in no bodies Books for T [...] fety or Velvet: the Silk-wor [...] had something else to do in th [...] days, than to set up Looms, and free of the Weavers. His Breech were not so much worth as Ki [...] Stephens, that cost but a poor N [...] ­ble: for Adams Holiday-Suit was [...] better Stuff than plain Fig-leaves and Eves best Gown of the sa [...] Piece; there went but a pair shears betwixt them. An Ant [...] quary in this Town has yet so [...] of the Powder of those Leaves di [...] ­ed, to shew. Taylors then wer [...] none of the Twelve Companies Their Hall, that now is larger the some Dorps among the Nethe [...] lands, was then no bigger than a ordinary Trades-mans Shop: the [Page 15] durst not strike down their Custo­mers with their large Bills. Adam car'd not an Apple-paring for all their lowzy Hems. Fashions then was counted a Disease, and Horses died of it; but now (thanks to folly) it is held the only rare Phy­sick, and the purest golden Asses live upon it.

As for the Diet of that Saturni­ [...] Age, it was like their Attire, homely: A Sallad and a Mess of Leek-porridge was a Dinner for a for greater Man than ever the Turk was: Potato-pies and Custards, stood like the sinful Suburbs of Cookery, and had not a wall (so much as a handful high) built [...]ound about them. Oh, golden World! the suspitious Venetian carved not his Meat with a silver Pitch-fork, neither did the sweet­tooth'd Englishman stuff a dozen of Plates at one Meal. Piers Plow­man [Page 16] lay'd the Cloth, and Simpll­city brought in the Voyder. Ho [...] wonderfully is the world altered and no marvel: For it hath lai [...] sick above five thousand years So that it is now no more like the Old Theatre du Monde, than the Bear-Garden St. James his Par [...] What an excellent Workman there fore were he, that could cast the Globe of it into a new Mould And not to make it look like the ordinary Globe, with a round Fac [...] sleekt, and washed over with th [...] Whites of Eggs, but to have it [...] Plano, as it was at first, with all th [...] antient Circles, Lines, Parallels and Figures, representing indeed, a [...] the Wrinkles, Cracks, Crevise and Flaws that stuck upon it a [...] the first Creation, and made [...] look most lovely. But now those Furrows are filled up with Cerus [...] and Vermilion; yet all will no [...] [Page 17] do, it appears more ugly. Come, come, it would be a bald World, but that it wears a Perruke: The Body of it is fowl (like a Birding­piece) by being too much heat­ed: the breath of it stinks like the breath of Chamber-maids, by feed­ing on so many Sweet-meats; and though to purge it will be a sorer labour. than the cleansing of Au­geas his Stable, yet Ille ego qui quondam, I am he that will do [...].

Draw near therefore, all you that love to walk upon single and simple Souls, and that wish to keep Company with none but In­nocents, and the Sons of civil Citi­rens; out with your Tables, and nail your Ears (as it were to the Pillory) to the Musick of our In­structions: nor let the Titles of Gullery and Bublery fright you from our School; for mark what [Page 18] an excellent Ladder you are to climbe by. How many worthy and Men of famous Memory have flourished in London of that anti­ent Family the Wise-acres, bein [...] now no better esteemed than Foo [...] or Younger Brothers? This gea [...] must be looked into, lest in time (oh lamentable time! when that hour-glass is turned up) a Rich mans Son shall no sooner peep out of the shell of his Minority, but he shall be straight-ways begge [...] for a concealment, or set upon (a [...] it were by Free-booters) and ta'n [...] in his own Purse-nets by Fence [...] and Coney-catchers: to drive which pestilent Infection from hi [...] heart, here is a Medicine more po [...] ­tent and more pretious than eve [...] was that mingle-mangle of Drug [...] which Mithridates boyled toge­ther; fear not then to taste it [...] Caudle will not go down half [...] [Page 19] sweetly as this will: You need not call the honest name of it in Question; for Antiquity puts off his Gap, and makes a bare Ora­tion in praise of the virtues of it: the Receipt hath been subscribed unto by all those that have had to do with Simples, with this Moth­ [...]ten Motto, Probatum est. You therefore whose Bodies are either over-flowing with the corrupt hu­mour of this Age, Phantastick­ness; or else being burnt up with the inflammation of upstart Fashi­ons, would fain be purged, and to truly shew that you truly loath this polluted and mangie-fist­ed world, turn Pinionists, not ca­ring either for Men or their Man­ners; do you pledge me; spare not to take a deep draught of our [...]mely Counsel: the Cup is full, [...]nd so large, that I boldly drink a [...]alth unto all Comers.

CHAP. II.

YOu have heard all this while nothing but the Prologue and seen no more than a Dum [...] Show: Our Vetu [...] Comedia step [...] out now.

The fittest stay upon which you (that study to be an Actor there are first to represent your self, [...] (in my Judgment) the softest and [Page 21] largest Down-bed; from whence, if you will but take sound Counsel on your Pillow, you shall never arise until you hear it ring noon at least. Sleep, in the Name of Mor­pheus, your belly-full, or (rather) sleep till your. Belly grumbles and waxeth empty. Care not for those course-painted Cloth-lines made by the University of Salern, that come over you with.

Sit brevis aut nullus tibi samnus Meridianus.

Short let thy Sleep at Noon be Or rather let it none be

Sweet candid Counsel! but there is Rats bane under it. Trust ne­ver a Batchelor of Art of them all for he speaks your health fair, but only to steal away the Mayden­head of it. Salern stands in the [Page 22] luxurious Country of Naples; and who knows not but the Neapolita [...] will, like the Jesuites, embrace you with one hand, and rip your Gut [...] with the other? protest love, you hate mortally? There is not a ha [...] in his Mustacho, but if he kiss you will stab you through the Chec [...] like a Ponyard. The Slave, to b [...] avenged on his Enemy, will dri [...] off a pint of Poyson himself, [...] that he may be sure but to have the other pledge him half so much And it may be, upon some secre [...] grudge to work the general de­struction of all Men-kind. Physi­tian [...] (I know) and none else, too [...] up the Bucklers in their defence rayling bitterly upon that Venera­ble and Princely Custome of [...]on [...] ­lying abed. Yet how I remember me, I cannot blame them; [...] they which want sleep (which is Man natural rest) become either mee [Page 23] Naturals, or else fall into the Do­ctors hands, and so consequently into the Lords: Whereas he that Snorts profoundly scorns to let Hippocrates himself stand giving his Judgment on his Urinal, and there­by saves the charges of a Groats worth of Physick; and happy is that man saves it: for Physick is Non minus venifica quam benefica; it hath an ounce of Gall in it, for every dram of Honey. Ten Ty­burns cannot turn Men over the Pearch so fast as one of these Brew­ers of Purgations; the very nerves of their Practice being nothing but Ars homici [...]orum; an Art to make poor Souls kick up their heels. Insomuch that even their sick grunting Patients stand in more danger of Mr. Doctor and his Drugs, than of all the Canon [...]ots which the desperate Disease it self can discharge against them. Send [Page 24] them packing therefore to wal [...] like Italian, Mount [...]bancks; beat not your Brains to understand their parcel Greek, parcel Latin Gib. brish: Let not all their Sophistical buzzing in your Ears, nor then Satyrical canvasing of Feather. beds, and tossing Men out of the [...] warm Blankets, awake you till the Hour that is here prescribed. For do but consider what an excellent thing Sleep is; it is so inestimable a Jewel, that if a Tyrant would give his Crown for an hours slum­ber, it cannot be bought; of so beautiful a shape is it, that though a Man lie with an Empress, his Heart cannot be at quiet till he leaves her Embracements to be at rest with the other: Yea, so great­ly are we indebted to this Kins­man [...]f Death, that we owe the better Tributary half of our, Life to him [...] and there is good Cause why [Page 25] we should do so; for Sleep is that Golden Chain that ties Health and our Bodies together. Who com­plains of Wants, of Wounds, of Cares, of Great Mens Oppressions, Captivity, whilst he sleepeth? Beg­gars in their Beds take as much pleasure as Kings; Can we there­fore sur [...]et on this delicate Ambro­sia? Can we drink of that too much, whereof to taste a little tumbles us into a Church-yard, and to use it but indifferently, throws us into Bedlam? No, no, look up­on Endymion the Moons Minion, who slept threescore and fifteen years, and was not a hair the worse for it. Can lying abed till Noon then (being not the threescore and fifteenth part of his nap) be hurtful?

Besides, By the Opinion of all Philosophers and Physitians, 'tis not good to trust the Air with [Page 26] our Bodies till the Sun with his flame-coloured wings hath fan­ned away the misty smoak of the Morn, and refined that thick To­bacco-breath which the rheuma­tick Night throws abroad on pur­pose to put out the Eye of the E­lement: which work Questionless cannot be perfectly finished, till the Suns Car-horses stand prancing on the very top of highest Noon: so that then (& not till then) is thy healthfullest hourto be stirring. Do you require Examples to perswade you? At what time do Lords and L [...]dies rise, but at that time? Your simpering Merchants Wives are the fairest liers in the world; and is not eleven a Clock their com­mon hour? they find (no doubt) unspeakable sweetness in such ly­ing, or else they would not day by day put it into practice. In a word, Midday-slumbers are Gol­den; [Page 27] they make the body fat, the skin fair, the flesh plump, delicate and tender; they set a crimson Colour on the cheeks of young Women, and make Courage to rise up in Men; they make us thristy, both in sparing Victuals (for Break-fasts thereby are saved from the Hell-mouth of the Belly) and in preserving Apparel; for whilest we warm us in our Beds, our Cloaths are not worn. The Casements of thine Eyes being then at this commendable time of Day newly set open, chuse rather to have thy wind-pipe cut in pie­ces than so Salute any man: Bid not Good Morrow so much as to thy Father, though he be an Em­peror: an idle Ceremony it is, and can do him little good; to thy self it may bring much harm. For if he be a wise man, that knows how to hold his peace, of necessity he [Page 28] must be counted a fool that can­not keep his tongue.

Among all the wild men that run up and down in this wide Forest of Fools (the World) none are more superstitious than those notable Ebritians, the Jews; yet a Jew never wears his Cap thred­bare with putting it off; never bends in the Hams with casting a­way a Leg; never cries God save you, though he see the Devil at your Elbow. Play the Jews there­fore in this, and save thy Lips that labour; only to remember, that so soon as thy Eye-lids be unglu­ed, thy first exercise must be (ei­ther sitting upright on thy Pillow, or lying at thy Bodies length) to yawn and stretch, and gape wider than an Oyster-Weuch.

This Lesson being played, turn over a new leaf, and (unless that Frizeland-Cur, cold Winter, offer [Page 29] to bite thee) walk up and down a while in thy Chamber, either in thy thin shirt only, or strip thy self stark naked: Are we not born so, and shall a foolish Custome make us to break the Laws of our Creation? Our first Parents, so long as they went naked, were suffered to dwell in Paradise; but after they got Coats to their backs, they were turned out of Doors. Put on therefore no Apparel at all, or put it on carelesly; for look how much more delicate Liberty is than Bondage, so much is the loosness in wearing of our Attire, a­bove the imprisonment of being nea [...]ly and Taylor-like drest up. To be ready in our Cloaths, is to be ready for nothing else: A man looks as if he hung in Chains, or like a Scar-crow: and as those ex­cellent Birds (whom Pliny could never have the wit to catch in all [Page 30] his Springes) commonly called Woodcocks (whereof there is great store in England) having all their Feathers pluckt from their backs, and being turned out as naked as Plato's Cock was before all Dioge­nes his Scholars; even so stands the case with man. Truth (be­cause the bald-Pate her Father Time hath no Hair to cover his Head) goes stark naked; but Falshood hath ever a Cloak for the Rain. You see likewise that the Lyon, being the King of Beasts; the Horse, being the lustiest Crea­ture; the Ʋnicorn, whose Horn is worth half a City; all these go with no more clothes on their backs than what Nature hath be­stowed upon them: but your Jack­anapes (being the scum and rascal­lity of all the hedge-creepers) they go in Jerkins: Marry how? They are put into these rags only in moc­kery.

Oh! Beware therefore what you wear, and how you wear it; and let this heavenly Reason move you never to be handsome: for when the Sun is arising out of his Bed, doth not the Element seem more glorious than (being only in gray) at Noon, when he is in all his Bravery? it were madness to deny it: What man would not willingly see a beautiful woman naked, or at least with nothing but a Lawn or some loose thing over her? Shall we then abhor that in our selves, which we admire and hold to be so excellent in others? Absit.

CHAP. III.

BUt if (as it often happens, un­less the Year catch the Sweat­ing-Sickness) the Morning like Charity waxing cold, thrust his frosty fingers into thy bosome, pinching thee black and blew (with her nails made of Ice) like an invincible Goblin, so that thy Teeth (as if thou wert singing a Prick-song) stand coldly quave­ring in thy Head, and leap up and down like the nimble Jacks of a [Page 33] pair of Virginals; be then as swift as a Whirlwind, and as boystrous in tossing all thy cloaths in a rude heap together; with which bundle filling thine Arms, step bravely forth, crying, Room, What a coyl keep you about the Fire? The more are set round about it, the more is thy commendation, if thou either bluntly ridest over their shoulders, or tumblest aside their Stools, to creep into the Chimney-corner: there toast thy body till thy schorched shins be speckled all over, being stained with more Colours than are to be seen on the right side of the Rain­bow.

Neither shall it be fit for the state of thy health to put on thy Apparel, till by fitting in that hot­house of the Chimney, thou feel­est the fat Dew of thy body (like bisting) run trickling down thy [Page 34] sides; for by that means thou may'st lawfully boast, That thou livest by the sweat of thy brows.

As for thy stockings and shooes, so wear them, that all men may point at thee, and make thee fa­mous by that glorious name of Male-content.

Having thus apparelled thee from Top to Toe, according to that simple Fashion which the greatest Coxcombs in Europe strive to imi­tate; it is now high time for me to have a blow at thy head; wch I will not cut off with sharp Documents, but rather set it on faster, bestow­ing upon it such excellent carving, that if all the Wisemen of Gotham should lay their Heads together, their Jobber-nowls would not be able to compare with thine.

To maintain therefore that Sconce of thine strongly guarded and in good reparation, let never [Page 35] any Combe fasten his. Teeth there: Let thy Hair grow thick and bushy like a Forest, or some Wilderness, lest those six-footed Creatures that breed in it, and are Tenants to that Crown-Land of thine, be hunt­ed to death by every base, barba­rous Barber, and so that delicate and tickling pleasure of scratching be utterly taken from thee; for thy Head is a House built for Reason to dwell in; and thus is the Tene­ment framed. The two Eyes are the Glass-windows, at which Light disperses it self into every Room; having goodly Penthouses of Hair to overshade them. As for the Nose, though some (injuriously and most improperly) make it serve for an Indian-Chimney, yet surely 'tis rightly a Bridge, two Ar­ches under which are neat Passa­ges to convey as well Perfumes to air and sweeten every Chamber, as [Page 36] to carry away all noisome Filth that is swept out of unclean Cor­ners. The Cherry-lips open like the new-painted Gates of a Lord Majors House, to take in Provisi­on. The tongue is a Bell hang­ing just under the middle of the Roof; and lest it should be rung out too deep (as sometimes it is when women have a Peal) where­as it was cast by the first Founder only to tole softly; there are two Rows of Ivory Pegs (like Pales) to keep it in. The Ears are two Mu­sick-rooms, into which, as well good sounds as bad descend down two narrow pair of Stairs, that for all the world have crooked wind­ings like those that did lead to the top of Pauls-Steeple, when standing before that General Conflagration: And because when the Tunes are once got in, they should not too quickly slip out, all the walls of both [Page 37] places are plaistered with yellow Wax round about them. Now as the fairest Lodging, though it be furnished with Walls, Chimneys, Chambers, and all other parts of Architecture; yet if the Sieling be wanting, it stands subject to Rain, and so consequently to Ruine: So would this goodly Palace which we have modelled out unto you, be but a cold and bald habitation, were not the top of it rarely co­vered. Nature therefore hath plaid the Tyler, and given it a most curious Covering, or (to speak more properly) she hath thatched it all over, and that thatching is Hiir: if then thou desirest to reserve that Fee-simple of Wit (thy Head) for Thee and the lawful Heirs of thy Body, let thy Hair receive his full growth, that thou may 'st safely and wisely brag 'tis thine own Bush natural. [Page 38] And withal consider, that as those snowy Fleeces which the naked Bryar steals from the innocent nib­bling sheep, to make him a warm Winter-livery, is to it an excel­lent Ornament; so make thou ac­count that to have Feathers stick­ing here and there on thy Head will embellish and set thy Crown out rarely. None dare upbraid thee, that like a Beggar thou hast lain on the Straw, or like a travelling Pedler on musty flocks: for those Feathers will rise up as. Witnesses to choak him that says so, and to prove that thy Bed was of the sof­test Down. When your Noblest Gallants consecrate their Hours to their Mistresses, and to Revelling, they wear Feathers then chiefly in their Hats, being one of the fairest Ensignes of their Bravery: But be thou a Reveller or Mi­stress-server all the Year long, [Page 39] by wearing Feathers in thy Hair, whose length before the rigorous edge of any Puritanical pair of scizzars should shorten the bredth of a finger, let the three Huswive­ly Spinsters of Destiny rather cur­tal the thred of thy life. Oh no! Long Hair is the only Net that Women spread abroad to entrap men in: And why should not men be as far above Women in that Commodity, as they go beyond men in others? The Merry Greeks were called [...], Long­haired. Loose not thou (being an honest Trojan) that Honor, see­ing it will more fairly become thee. Grass is the Hair of the earth, which so long as it is suffer­ed to grow, it carries a most ex­cellent Colour; but when the Sun-burnt Clown makes his Mowes at it, and (like a Barber) shaves it off to the stumps, it withers, and [Page 40] is good for nothing, but to be trust, up and thrown among the Jades. How ugly is a blad-Pate? it looks like a Face wanting a Nose, or like ground eaten bare with the Arrows of Archers, Whereas a Head all hid in Hair gives even to the most deformed Face a sweet Complexion, and looks like a Meadow newly marri­ed to the Spring: which beauty in Christians the Turks envying, they no sooner lay hold on one, but the first Mark they set upon him to make him know that he is a Slave, is to shave off all his Hair close to his Skull. A Mahumetical cru­elty therefore it is, to stuff Balls with that which when it is once lost, all the hare-shooters in the world may sweat their Hearts out, and yet hardly catch it again. Long Hair will make thee look dread­fully to thine Enemies, and manly [Page 41] [...]o thy Friends: It is in Peace an Ornament, in War a strong Hel­met; it blunts the edge of a Sword, and deads the leaden thump of a Bullet. In Winter it is a warm Night-cap, in Summer a cooling Fan of Feathers.

CHAP. IV.

FIrst, Diligently having enqui­red out an Ordinary of th [...] the largest reckoning, whither mo [...] of your Gallants do resort; let [...] be your use to repair thither about half an hour after Eleven, for then you shall find most of your Fa­shion-Mongers planted in the Room waiting for Meat.

Being arrived in the Room, Sa­lute not any but those of your own Acquaintance: walk up and down as scornfully and as carelesly as a Gentleman-Usher. Select some friend, having first thrown off your Cloak, to walk up and [Page 43] down the Room with you; let him be Suited, if you can, worse by far than your self; for by this means he will publish you better than a Tennis-Court or a Play­ [...]ouse. Discourse as much as you can, no matter to how little pur­pose: if you but make a noise, and laugh in Fashion, and have a good [...]im Face to promise quarrelling, you shall be much observed.

If you be a Souldier, and have had any Command, talk how of­ten you have been in such an Acti­on [...] as in all the Three Last Dutch- [...]ights; and that you fought so stoutly, that you were fain to shift your Ship twice; and that when the Captain of your Ship was kil­led (being then but Lieutenant) you fought three hours with Trump, and forced him to take his old course when worsted, to swim like a Water-rat; and that His [Page 44] His Grace the Duke of Monmou [...] having heard of your Service in th [...] Fleet (then cry, But no matter Sirs, a man ought not to speak fort his own praise; upon which the Company will conclude you spea [...] truth) he begged of the Prince that he might have you with him at the taking of Maestricht, and that the next man that entered after his good Grace, was you self; and though you say it and should not say it, you were he that countermined all their Mines; and that for ought you know, had you not been there, the busine [...] had never been effected. And if you perceive that the untravelled Company take this down well, ply them with more such Stuff; as how you, as simple a Fellow as you seem to be, have In [...]preted be­tween the French King and the Emperour; and that will be an [Page 45] [...]cellent way to publish your Lan­ [...]uages, if you have them; if not, [...]et some fragments of French, or [...]hall parcels of Italian to fling a­ [...]out the Table: but beware how [...]ou speak any Latin there; your Ordinaries most commonly have no more to do with Latin, than a desperate Town or Garrison hath.

If you be a Courtier, discourse of the obtaining Suits, of your Mistresses favours: Make inquiry if any Gentleman at the Board have any Suit to get, which he would use the good means of a Great Mans interest with the King; and withal (if you have not so much Grace left in you as to [...]lush) that you are (thanks to your Stars) in mighty Credit, though in your own Conscience you know that you dare not (but only upon the Priviledge of hand­some Cloaths) presume to peep [Page 46] within the Court-gates; yea, a [...] rather than your tongue should n [...] be heard in the room, discourse ho [...] often this Lady hath sent h [...] Coach for you, and how often yo [...] have sweat in the Tennis-Court with that Great Lord or Duke.

If you be a Poet, and come into the Ordinary (though it can be no great Glory to be an ordinary Poet) Order your self thus: Ob­serve no man, though the Poet Laureat should be there himself. Put not off your Hat to that Gen­tleman to day at Dinner, to whom not two Nights ago you were be­holden for a Supper; but after a turn or two in the Room, take oc­casion (pulling out your Gloves) to have some Epigram or Satyr fa­stened in one of them, that may (as it were against your con­sent) offer it self to the Gentle­men: they will presently desire it; [Page 47] but without mighty Conjuration from them do not read it: Marry, if you chance to get into your hands any witty thing of another mans that is something better, I would counsel you then, if de­mand be made who composed it; you may say a very Learned Gen­tleman, and a worthy Friend; and this seeming to lay it on another man, will be counted modesty in you, or a signe that you are not ambitious of praise, or else that you dare not take it upon you for fear of the sharpness it carries with it: besides it will add much to your Fame, to let your Tongue walk fa­ster than your Teeth, though you be never so hungry; and rather than you should sit like a dumb Coxcomb, to repeat by heart ei­ther some Verses of your own, or a­ny other mans, stretching even ve­ry good Lines upon the rack of [Page 48] Censure, though it be against Law, Honesty or Conscience, it may chance save you the price of your Ordinary. Marry, I would further intreat our Poet to be in League with the Mistress of the Or­dinary; because from her, upon condition that he will but Rime Knights and Gentlemen to her House, he may easily make up his Mouth at her cost gratis.

Thus much for particular men: but in general, let all that are in Ordinary-pay, march after the sound of these Directions. Before the meat come smoaking to the Board, our Gallant must draw out his Tobacco-Pox, the Ladle for the cold Snuff into the Nostril, the Tongues and Stopper: all which Artillery, may be of Gold or Silver (if he can reach to the price of it) it will be a reasonable useful Pawn at all times, when the Current [Page 49] of his Money falls out to run low.

When you are set down to Din­ner, you must eat as impudently as can be. When your Knight is up­on the stewed Mutton, be you pre­sently in the bosom of the Goose; when your Justice of Peace is Inuckle-deep in the Goose, you may without disparagement fall very manfully to your Woodeocks. You may rise in Dinner-time to ask for a Close-stool, protesting to all the Gentlemen, that it costs you an hundred pounds per Annum for Physick, besides the Annual Pen­sion which your wife allows her Doctor. And if you please, you may invite some special Friend of yours from the Table, to hold Di­scourse with you as you fit in that withdrawing Chamber; from whence being returned again to the Board, you shall sharpen the [Page 50] wits of all the eating Gallants a­bout you, and do them great plea­sure, to ask what Pamphlets or Poems a man might think fittest to wipe his Tail with: And in pro­pounding this Question, you may abuse the Works of any man, de­prave his Writings that you can­not equal, and purchase to your self in time the name of a severe Critick.

After Dinner, every man as his bu­siness leads him, some to Dice, some to Plays, some to take up Friends in the Court, some to take up mony in the City. And thus as the People is said to be a Beast of many heads (yet all those heads like Hydra's) overgrowing as various in their horns, as wondrous in their bud­ding and branching; so in an Ordi­nary you shall find the variety of a whole Kingdom in a few Apes of the Nation

You must not swear in your Di­cing, for that argues a violent im­patience to depart from your mo­ney, and in time will betray a mans need; take heed of it. No, if you be at Hazard or Put, you shall sit as patiently (though you lose half a years exhibition) as a disarmed Gentleman does when he is in the unmerciful hands of Ser­jeants. Yet I will allow you to swear privately, and tear six or seven score pair of Cards, be the damnation of some dozen bail of vice, and forswear Play a thousand times in an hour, but not swear.

At your Twelve Penny Ordina­ry you may give any young Knight (if he be but one degree towards the Equinoctial of the salt­ [...]ellar) leave to pay for the wine; [...]nd he shall not refuse it, though it [...]e but a week before the recei­ving of his Quarters Rent, which [Page 52] is a time albeit of good hope, yet of present necessity.

There is another Ordinary, to which your London-Ʋsurer, your stale Batchelor, and your thrifty Attorney do resort; the price three pence: the Rooms as full as a Goal, and indeed divided into se­veral Wards, like the beds of an Hospital. The Complement be­tween these is not much, the [...] words few; for the Belly hath [...] Ears: every mans eye here is upon the other mans Trencher, to not [...] whether his fellow lurch him o [...] no. If they chance to Discourse 'tis of nothing but of Statutes Bonds, Recognizances, Fines, Re­coveries, Rents, Subsidies, Inclo­sures, Indictments, Outlaries Feoffments, Judgments, Commis­sions, Banckrouts, Amercements and such like horrible matter. can finde nothing in this Ordinary [Page 53] worthy the sitting down for; there­fore the Cloth shall be taken away; and those that are thought good enough to be Guests here, shall be too base to be waiters at our Grand Ordinary, at which your Gallant tastes these Commodities; he shall fare well, enjoy good Company, receive all the News e're the Post can deliver his Packet, Proclaim his good Cloaths, know this man to drink well, that to [...]ed stoutly; he shall, if he be minded to Travel, put out mony upon his Return, and have hands enough to receive it upon any terms of repayment: and no Que­stion, if he be poor, he shall now and then light upon some Gull or other, whom he may bubble (af­ter the Gentile Fashion) of money. By this time the parings of Fruit and Cheese are in the Voyder, Cards and Dice lie stinking in the fire; [Page 54] some are gone to one Theatre, some to the other. Let us take a pair of Oars for Dorset-stairs, and so in to the Theatre after them as fast as we can.

CHAP. V.

THe Theatre is your Poets Royal Exchange, upon which their Muses (that are now turned to Merchants) meeting, barter a­way that light Commodity of words, for a fighter ware than words, Plandities, and the breath of the great Beast, which (like the threatnings of two Cowards) vanish into Air.

The Play-house is free for en­tertainment, allowing Room as well to the Farmers Son as to a Templer; yet it is not fit that he whom the most Taylors bills make room for when he comes should [Page 56] be basely like a Viol, cased up in a corner: Therefore, I say, let our Gallant (having paid his half Crown, and given the Door-keep­er his Ticket) presently advance himself into the middle of the Pit, where having made his Honor to the rest of the Company, but espe­cially to the Vizard-Masks, let him pull out his Comb, and ma­nage his flaxen Wig with all the Grace he can. Having so done, the next step is to give a hum to the China-Orange-wench, and give her her own rate for her Oranges (for 'tis below a Gentleman to stand haggling like a Citizens wife) and then to present the fairest to the next Vizard-mask. And that I may incourage our Gallant not like the Trades-man to save a shilling, and so sit but in the Middle-Galle­ry, let him but consider what large comings-in are pursed up sitting in the Pit.

[Page 57]1. First, A conspicuous Emi­ [...]ence is gotten, by which means the best and most essential parts of a Gentleman, as his fine Cloaths and Perruke, are perfectly reveal­ed.

2. By sitting in the Pit, if you be a Knight, you may happily get you a Mistress; which if you would, I advise you never to be absent when Epsome Wells is plaid: for, ‘We see the Wells have Empress of Moracco in the Protegue. stoln the Vizard­masks away.’

But if you be but a meer Fleetstreet Gentleman, a Wife: but assure your self, by your continual residence there, you are the first and princi­pal man in election to begin the number of We three.

It shall Crown you with rich [Page 58] Commendation, to laugh aloud in the midst of the most serious and sudden Scene of the terriblest Tra­gedy, and to let the Clapper (your Tongue) be tossed so high, that all the House may ring of it: for by talking and laughing, you heap Pelion upon Ossa, Glory upon Glo­ry: as first, all the eyes in the Gal­leries will leave walking after th [...] Players, and only follow you: th [...] most Pedantick Person in the House snatches up your name; an [...] when he meets you in the Streets, he'l say, He is such a Gallant; and the people admire you.

Secondly, You publish your tem­perance to the world, in that you seem not to resort thither to taste vain Pleasures with an hungry Ap­petite; but only as a Gentleman to spend a foolish hour or two, be­cause you can do nothing else.

Now Sir, if the Poet be a fellow [Page 59] that hath Lampoon'd or libelled you, or hath had a flirt at your Mistress, you shall disgrace him worse than tossing him in a Blan­ket, or giving him the Bastinado in a Tavern, if in the middle of the Play you arise with a skrew'd and discontented face (as if you [...]ad the griping in the Guts) and [...]e gone; and further to vex [...]im, mew at passionate Speeches, [...]lare at merry, find fault with the Musick, whistle at the Songs, and above all, curse the Sharers, that whereas the very same day you had bestowed five pounds for an embroidered Belt, you encounter with the very same on the Stage, when the Belt-maker swore the impression was new but that morn­ing.

To conclude, hoard up the fi­nest Play-scraps you can get, up­on which your lean Wit may most [Page 60] savourly feed for want of other stuff; for this is only Furniture for a Courtier that is but a new Be­ginner, and is but in his A B C of Complement. The next places that are filled after the Play­houses be emptied, are Taverns. In­to a Tavern let us then march, where the Brains of one Hogshead must be beaten out to make up a­nother.

CHAP. VI.

WHosoever desires to be ac­counted a well-wisher to the Publike, whether he be a Country-Gentleman that brings his wife up to learn the Fashions, see the Tombs at Westminster, the Lyons in the Tower, or take Phy­sick; or else is some young Far­mer, who many times makes his wife (in the Country) believe he hath Suites in Law, because he will come up to his Letchery; be he of what stamp he will that hath mony in his Purse, and a good Conscience to spend it, my coun­sel is, that he take his continual [Page 62] Diet at a Tavern, which is the on­ly Rendezvouz of boon Compa­ny, and the Drawers the most nim­ble, the most bold, and most sud­den Proclaimers of your largest Bounty.

Having put your self into an Equipage, your office is to enquire out those Taverns which are best customed, whose Masters are oft­nest drunk; and such as stand far­thest from the Counters; where landing your self and your follow­ers, your first Complement shall be, to grow most inwardly acquaint­ed with the Drawers, to learn their names, as Jack and Will, and Tom; to dive into their Inclinati­ons, as, whether this fellow useth the Fencing-School, this the Dan­cing-School; whether that young Conjurer (in Hogsheads) at Mid­night keeps a Gelding now and then to visit his Cockatrice; or [Page 63] whether he loves Dogs, or be ad­ [...]cted to any other eminent and Gentleman-like quality; and pro­ [...]est your self to be extremely in [...]ove, and that you spend much [...]ony in a year upon any of those [...]xercises, which you perceive is [...]llowed by them. The use which [...]ou should make of this familiari­ [...]y, is this; if you want mony five [...] six days together, you may still [...]ay the Reckoning with this most Gentleman-like Language, Boy [...]ch me mony from the Bar. Be­ [...]des, you shall be sure (if there be [...]ne Fawcet that can betray neat [...]une to the Bar) to have that ar­ [...]igned before you sooner than better and a worthier Person.

For your Drink, let not your Physitian confine you to any one particular Liquor: for as it is very equisite that a Gentleman should [...]ot always be plodding in one [Page 64] Art, but rather be a general Scho­lar (that is, to have a lick at all sorts of Learning, and away) so 'tis not fitting a man should trouble his head with sucking at one Grape.

Your Discourse at the Table must be such, as that which you ut­ter at an Ordinary; your Behavi­our the same, but somewhat more carelesly: for where your Ex­pence is great, let your modesty be­less; and though you should he mad in a Tavern, the largeness of the Items will bear with your in­civility; you may without prick to your Conscience set the want of your Wit against the superfluity of their Reckonings. Again, inquire what Gallants sup in the next Room; and if there be any of your Acquaintance, do not you (after the City-fashion) send them in a Bottle of Wine, and your [Page 65] name sweetned in two pitiful pa­pers of Sugar, with some simple A­pology cram'd in the mouth of a Drawer: No, no, that's below a Gentleman; nor when the terrible Reckoning (like an Indictment) bids you hold up your hand, and that you must answer it at the Bar, you must not abate one penny in any particular, but only cast your eye upon the Totalis, and no fur­ther: for to traverse the Bill, would letray you to be acquainted with the rates of the Market; nay more, it would make the Vintner believe you were Familias, and kept a House, which I will assure you is [...]ot now in fashion.

At your departure forth of the House, to kiss mine Hostess over the Bar, or to accept of the courte­sie of the Cellar, or to bid any of the Vintners good night, is as com­mendable as for a Barber after [Page 66] ming to lave your face with Rose­watet, &c.

CHAP. VII.

AFter the sound of Bottles is out of your Ears, and that the spirit of Wine and Tobacco walks in your Brain, the Tavern­door being shut upon your back, pass through the wide and high streets in the City; and if your means cannot reach to the keeping of a Boy, hire one of the Drawers to be as a Lanthorn unto your feet, and to light you home; and still as you approach near any Night-walker, [Page 67] that is up as late as your self, curse and swear (like one that speaks High-Dutch) in a lofty voice, because your man hath used you so like a Raskal in not waiting upon you; and vow the next morning to pull his blew Li­very over his ears; though if your Chamber were well searched, you give only 6 d. a week to some old woman to make your Bed, and that she is all the Servant that you give wages to. If you smell a Watch (and that you may easily do, for commonly they eat Oni­ons to keep themselves in sleep­ing, which they account a Medi­cine against the cold) and you come within danger of their brown Bills, let him that is your Candle­stick, let Ignis fatuus, I say, being within reach of the Constables­staff, ask aloud, Sir Giles, or Sir Abram, will you turn this way, or [Page 68] down that Street? And if the Cen­tinel and his Court of Guard stand strictly upon his Martial Law, and cry Stand, commanding you to give the Word, and to shew reason why your Ghost walks so late; do it in some jest: or if you read a Mittimus in the Constables Book, counterfeit your self to be a French-man, a Dutchman, or any other Nation whose Country is at peace with your own; and you may pass: for being not able to understand you, they cannot by the Custom of the City take your examination, and so by conse­quence they have nothing to say to you.

All the way as you pass (espe­cially being approacht near some of the Gates) talk of none but Lords or such Ladies with whom you have plaid at Cribbidge and Post and Pair, the very same day: and [Page 69] being arrived at your Lodging­door, which I would counsel you to choose in some rich Citizens house, salute no man at parting but by the name of Sir (as though you had supped with Knights) although you had none in your company but Foot-boys.

Happily it will be blown abroad that you and your shole of Gal­lants swam through such an Ocean of Wine, that you danced so much money out at heels, and that in wild-fowl there flew away so much; and have your Bill of your Reckoning lost on purpose, so that it may be published, will make you to be held in dear estimation: only the danger is, if that your re­velling gets your Creditors by the ears, for then look to have a peal of Ordnance thundering at your Chamber-door the next morning: but if either your Taylor, Mercer, [Page 70] Habberdasher, Silk-man, Linnen­draper, or Sempster, stand like a Guard of Switzers about your Lodging, waiting your up-rising; or if they miss of that, your down­lying in one of the Counters, you have no means to avoid the gal­ling of their small shot, but by sending out a Light-Horse-man, to call your Apothecary to your aid, who encountring this desperate band of your Creditors, only with two or three Glasses in his hands, as though that day you purged, is able to drive them all to their holes like so many Foxes: for the name of taking Physick is a sufficient Quietus est to any endangered Gentleman.

I could now breath you in a Fencing-School, and out of that Cudgel you into a Dancing-School; and to close up this Feast, I could make Cockneys whose Fathers [Page 71] have left them well, acknowledge themselves infinitely beholding to me, to teaching them by familiar demonstration how to spend their Patrimony, and to get themselves names when their Fathers are dead: But lest too many Dishes should cast you into a surfet, I will now take away; yet so, that if I per­ceive you to relish this well, the rest shall be in time prepared for you. Farewel.