SAyſt thou the Butchers threaten to knock down who ere ſhall rate their Cattell.

Yes ſir, and they adde tis great injuſtice their Bullocks ſhould bring in ſo great a gaine into Guild-hall, due unto them, purchaſt with paine and ſweat: and yet the Shee-ſellers of Mutton in Turnball-ſtreet, Spring-garden, and Croſſe-lane, paſſe without paying tole for Maydenheads, ſell fleſh at dearer rates then they, and yet pay no Exciſe.

It were not for the credit of the State thou foole to make a gaine of ſinne, and like Romes Biſhop receive tythes from the Brothels.

Come along SNEAKE,—thou muſt fill up thoſe blankes to night

Very like ſir, would nature had produc't Geeſe without quils, — I ſhould not have—

Mr COMMON-CURSE, happily met, and how, and how goes ſquares; — does thy bags ſtrut like to the udder of a Cow? — theſe times will make us all.—Pray Heaven they hold the name of peace ſounds in my eares like to the Ravens croaking—it ſings my Dirge.—But ſtay I heard ſad news this evening.

What news?

That the Cow-killers of Cowlane, and Smithfieldbars have burnt down the Exciſe houſe.

Were that news true, 'twould ſcorch my heart to tind r. — I ever fear'd thoſe maſty knaves would muteny; tis a ſad OMEN, and prognoſticates the Exciſe is not long liv'd.

The fooliſh Commons now 'gin to wax wiſe, they'r wak't out of their dreame, and finde their fancy has deluded them, — they doe begin to thinke o'the daies of yore, when as their coine, and children were their own. Shouting within.

Ha—what noiſe is that, runne SHALLOW-BRAINES, and learn the cauſe. Exit SHALLOW.

Thou trembleſt as if thy ſinnes had met thee, or thy fathers ghoſt.

I feare the rage o'the incenſed multitude, whoſe malice is inveterate againſt me.— Pray heaven they make not this way. Enter SHALLOW-BRAINES.

The occaſion of the ſhout was this ſir; the Butchers are releaſt from the burden o'the Excize, and to expreſſe their joy they rend the ayre with clamour; this night they doe intend to have the Bels ring merrily, each where Bonefires made; and on a pile of wood they've tide the picture of an Exciſe man, ſhapt with reeds; and him they ſacrifice to the God of fire.

Cheare up man, thou ſhalt not fall alone; we two, like Hypocrates twins, muſt live and die together: the Exciſe is the Committees prop, and but drawn with deſire of that ſweet gaine the Excize doth daily bring us, would we ſo venter, thinkſt thou; and privately hoord up the coyne is lent upon the publique Faith, caſting behind our backs the thought of feare? — Good fellows ſtill envy the drinke they ſwallow, Beere and Tobacco ſtill bring in Exciſe, with all things elſe of worth, and vendible.

Had I not met thee, I had ſure ere this diſſolv'd into a Jelly, —this harſh news aſtoniſht ſo my ſences;—This is Algate,—lets to the Sunne and taſte a pint of Sack,—'tis Wine alone can mitigate my feares.

Nere doubt it ſir.

THis is legitimate blood of the rich corſick Grape; fill me a boule, that I may bathe my head in 't, and riſe like Phaebus from the Eaſt, ſhaking my dewy locks. —I now could rarely Poetize; — No marvell the hungry Poets talke of Tantalus, of Jaion, and of Titius; of fell Maegera, Tiſiphone, and Alecto, when Sack doth ſhape Chimeras in their braines — Methinks I could create a ſecond Hell, and place bleſs'd ſoules in an Elizium, the ancient Bards nere dreampt of.

He's inſpired.

Boy, ſome Wine.

I come, I come ſir.

Gentlemen will you have a ſtraine of mirth?

I am all ayrie now — Come all at once, and let your mellodie in diſcords pleaſe, to which wee I foot it, as thoſe looſe quarries, that o're-heard Orpheus, and his harpe. They dance.

— More wine, I now begin for to have merry thoughts, — more wine, — the neweſt ayre you have.

We are in an excellent humour — lets have the tother quart,

Rare rogue in Buckram— thou ſhalt goe out a wit, and vie with Martin Parker, or John Tailor.

A round — a round — a round — ſome bodies at doore (knocking within) prethee — prethee — ſirra try thy skill.

Whoſe there, Edward, one Mr. Rebellion a Roundhead, and one Time-ſerver a Prieſt.

Let um in, let um in.

Maſter Rebellion, and Maſter Time-ſerver, welcome, welcome I faith now — ſome wine boy.

What Circe hath with murmuring charmes, thus Metamorphos'd ſeeming civil men to beaſtly ſwine, O Mr. Time-Server — with weeping eyes, behold thoſe ſinnes here Acted, for which a Nation mournes. —

My eyes are ready to drop out, and fall like bullets at my feet, for to behold this object.

Come Mr. Rebellion, and Mr. Time-Server, this ſterne Socratick garb doth not become you, leave it, faith tis ſcurvie; — what Planet ſtruck — deſperate wounds muſt have deſperate cures — ſhut the doore — nay gentlemen — you ſhall drink — ſit down and tipple — ſo — Mr. Rebellion a health to king Pims Ghoſt — can you deny the honour'd ſhade that courteſie, — nay, I will be pledg'd —

— Thanks Mr Rebellion, nay, it muſt go round, Mr. Time-Server you'l not affront our triumph.

Alas this ſack agrees not with my conſtitution — ſo deepe a draught, will put me to the charge of phyſick: beſides it is a ſin, to guzzel down the creature thus in waſte, a crime which heaven abhorres — ſir I dare not.

How? — dare not — thou art not then a friend unto the cauſe, and ſo I will inform —pox on him— if you love me Suckdrie, lets ſtiffe him, and ſay it was a ſudden judgement upon him for his obſtinacy; the poſture will confirme it.

You muſt drink ſir —

hold, ſir ile drink —he drinks —

So, ſo, ſo.

This is good ſack gentlemen, ile ſpend my pint — ſo pleaſe you —

Ile gi'thee a quart (my Bullie) to morrow, I le be thrifty, and ſhare the Commons coine with frugall skill — Nay Maſter Time-ſerver, ſit not ſo farre of, each man joyne foot to foot, and tipple in an Orbe. Some wine boy

I come, I come Sir, (brings wine.)

Here Maſter Time-Server, — you are too Stoicall — a draught of this, will give you the Anallyſis of your text, without mediums or nocturnall watchings — here, he drinks.

This is inticing liquor — drinks

Mr. Rebellion, this blood of the ripe grape, will adde unto your numerous pious thoughts, in this bowle full to the brimme I memorize your health —

I thank you ſir, and by my fathers head, this ſack is very warme, and comfortable, give me meaſure ſir, — drinks.

I now begin to be ſtrangely tranſported; gentlemen, ſhalls be merry for troth to ſay, 'tis that I moſt effect; how ere I counterfeit,— to pleaſe the riſing Round-heads — when as the Biſhops rul'd I was for them, I wore my Caſſock moſt canonicall; but now the tide is turnd, 'twere ſimple policy to ſwim againſt the ſtreame, to be ſo nice of conſcience, for making ſcruple to revile my Prince, to cheriſh and confirme baſe men, in hope of that nere was, nor is, nor ere ſhall be to looſe vaſt ſummes of gold, thanksgiving dinners and repute —

Drink deepe, my fingers itch, untill they ſeize the bowle — I laugh to think how when I counterfeit a whining paſſion, and talke of God and goodneſſe, walke with a ſad, and mortified countenance, how I'me admir'd, amongſt the Brethren, and ſtild a man of God —

Excellent, heres to thee for that conceit; we foure ſhould have made rare States-men, we are ſo wittie in our miſchief.

Maſter Time-Server, You have occupied with the nine girles — lets heare, lets heare. —

A reckoning boy — call thy Maſter. (Enter Maſter)

Your will gentlemen

Our will ſir is to pay, gentlemen depoſite — they pay — doſt heare, here's a friend of ours has forgotten himſelf. — Com. Cur. — a little as they call it — the wine has got a ſleepe into his head — as froſt into a hand — he is benum'd and has no uſe of himſelfe for preſent. Exeunt

You'd need gentlemen, be all wafted home in a Sedan, you are ſo light, you hardly feele your ſelves; and yet ſo weighty, that you reele under your burdens thus muſt we thrive by ſinne — it muſt be ſo, this is the laſt of ages.