WE here present you, Gentle­men, with a parcel of Beasts of prey, worse than ever A­frick bred; and more Unclean than any that entered into Noah's Ark: yet Cloven-footed, in imitation of their Syre; and all so Superlative in their Kinds, that each may dispute for Precedency: Onely for Method sake, we shall begin with the most Slye and Dangerous,

An UNCONSCIONABLE Pawn broker (for there are Conscionable Dealers in that Way, that are a Relief and Comfort to the Poor; and those are not concern'd in this Character:) an Unconscionable [Page 3] Pawn-broker, I say, is Pluto's Factor, Old Nick's Warehouse-keeper, an English Jew that lives and grows fat on Fraud and Op­pression, as Toads on Filth and Venome; whose Practice out-vies Usury, as much as Incest simple Fornication; and to call him a Tradesman, must be by the same Figure that Pickpockets stile their Legerdemain an Art and Mystery. His Shop, like Hell-gates, is always open, where he sits at the Receipt of Custom, like Cacus in his Den, ready to devour All that is brought him; and having gotten your Spoils, hangs them up in Rank and File, as so many Trophies of Victory. Hither all sorts of Garments resort in Pilgrimage, whilst he playing the Pimp, lodges the Tabby-petticoat and Russet-breeches together in the same Bed of Lavender.

He is the Treasurer of the Thieves Ex­chequer, the Common FENDER of all Bulkers and Shop-lifts in the Town. To this purpose he keeps a private Warehouse, and Ships away the Ill-gotten Goods by wholesale; dreading nothing so much, as [Page 4] that a Convict should honestly Confess how he dispos'd the Moveables. He is a kind of Disease quite contrary to the Gout; for as that haunts the Rich, so this mainly torments the Poor, and scarce leaves them so much as a Primitive Figg-leaf to cover their Nakedness. Mrs. Joan, when she is minded to see her Sweet-heart, and Gam­mar Blew-bottle going to a Christening, muster up the Pence o'th' Saturday-night to redeem their best Riggings out of Cap­tivity; but on Munday-morning infallibly bring them back (like Thieves that had on­ly made an Escape) to the old Limbus: and this so often, till at last they know the way, and can go to Pawn alone by themselves. Thus they are forc'd to purchase the same Clothes Seven times over; and for want of a Chest to keep them in at home, it costs Thrice as much as they are worth for their lodging in his custody. When they come in, like other Prisoners, they first pay Gar­nish, the Twopences for Entrance-money; after this, Sixpence a month for every 20 s. lent, (which yet indeed is but 19 s. 6 d.) [Page 5] that is (according to their Reckoning of thirteen months to the year) Six shillings and six pence Interest for One pound for a year; which makes Thirty three pounds, six shillings, and eight pence in the hun­dred, viz One third part of the Principal, and just 27 l. 6 s. 8 d. more than the Sta­tute allows; besides Twelve pence for a Bill of Sale, if the matter be considerable. So that since they never lend half the value on any thing that is brought them, if a Pawn-broker lay out 100 l. he first makes neer 40 l. per Annum advantage certain, as aforesaid: And then considering how many Thieves, &c. (their chief Customers that bring the lumping bargains) never in­tend to Redeem, and how many Poor are not able, especially since as soon as the year and day expire, they presently dis­pose their Pawns, or pretend to do so, we may reasonably conclude, that these Horse-leeches make Cent. per Cent. at least of their Mony in a year: And all this by a Course tending onely to the encouragement of Thieves, and ruine of those that are ho­nest, but indigent.

[Page 6] Near of Kin to these Caterpillers, is the Un­conscionable Tally-man, but a little more adventu­rous, and dealing so much in Wood, that 'tis sup­posed his Deserts may intitle him to die on a Leaf­less Tree. He is one that Eateth up the Poor (to use a sacred Phrase) even as Bread, and yet under a charitable pretence of serving and accommoda­ting them: For he lets them have Ten shillings worth of sorry Commodities (or scarce so much) on Security given to pay him Twenty shillings by Twelve pence a week. Then his Wandering Me­phistophilus, with the bundle of Rattles, whom we may call The Devil's Rent-gatherer, haunts them more diligently than a revengeful Ghost does a Murderer, or a tormenting Conscience a Tray­tor: And if they happen to fail the first or second week, snaps them or their Security, and makes them forthwith pay the utmost farthing; allead­ging, now their former Agreement was void. We have nothing to do with those that deal according to Conscience.

There is yet another Pack of the Charitable Vermine, that make it their Business to lend Mo­ney by the week. This crafty Extortioner com­monly keeps a blinde Ale-house; and you must first, besides a world of Complements, spend two or three shillings at several times, before he be at leisure, or Money comes in, or that you can per­swade him to like your Security: at least you get but 18 s. for every 20 s. but must give Bond (and him 12 d. for making it) to repay full 20 s. at 2 s. [Page 7] per week; who in case of failure, takes the first advantage to be as kinde to you as the last Gentle­man. And so by these Subtleties, and continual Returns, they likewise make much more than double of their Money in a years time, as by ex­act Calculation may appear.

These are the Nimrods, the private Hunters in this vast Forest of Chimneys, that draw the Poor into their Nets, and pick them to the very Bone. But the Bandogs that they make use of, are the Bum-bailey, and his Setting-Cur: The first, a kind of Excrescence of the Law, like our Nails, made onely to scratch and claw; a sort of Birdlime, where he lays hold he hangs; a Raven that pecks not out mens Eyes, as others do, but all his spite is at their Shoulders; and you had better have the Night­mare ride you, than this Incubus. He is one of Deu­calion's By-blows, begotten of a Stone, and has ta­ken an Oath never to pity Widow nor Orphan. His first business is to bait you for Money for his (con­founded) Civility; next, to call for Drink as fast as men for Buckets of water in a Conflagration: Af­ter which, becoming grave and serious, he advises you in revenge to arrest the Plaintiff, and offers to do it, with or without cause; 'tis all one to him, if he perceive you have money. His Follower is an Hanger that he wears by his side; a false Die of the same Bale, but not the same Cut: for it runs somewhat higher, inflames the Reckoning, and so does more mischief. He's a Tumbler that drives in the Coneys; but is yet but a Bungler, and knows [Page 8] not how to cut up a man without tearing, unless by a Pattern. This is the Hook that hangs under wa­ter to choak the Fish, and his Officer the Quill a­bove, which pops down as soon as ever the Bait is swallowed. Though differing in degree, they are both much of a Complexion, onely the Teeth of this latter are more sharp, and he more hungry, because he does but snap, and hath not his full half-share of the Booty. A main part of his Office is to swear and bluster at their trembling Prisoners, and cry, Confound us, why do we wait? let's Shop him: whilst the other meekly replies, Jack, be patient; 'tis a civil Gentleman, and I know will consider us: which Species of Wheedling in Terms of their Art, is called Sweeten and Pinch. The Eyes of these Wolves are as quick in their Head, as a Cut-purses in a Throng; and as nimble are they at their Business, as an Hang-man at an Exe­cution. They'll court a broken Pate to heal it with a Plaister of Green-wax, and suck more silver out of a Wound than a Surgeon. Yet as these Eels are generally bred out of the Mud of a Ban­krupt, so they commonly die with their Guts ript up, or are decently run through the Lungs; and as they liv'd hated, die unpitied. We speak here of those onely that abuse the Intentions of the Law, and act Oppression under the colour of serving common Justice.