The London-Spy Compleat In Eighteen Parts :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Monster that progressively is Bred,
To raise his Fortunes by the Tippling Trade,
(As oft they are) must be of Spurious Race,
Begot by Chance within the Bounds of Grace:
Born of some Lustful Wench, who could not stay
Till Fortune flung a Husband in her way;
First Dropt, and then Preserv'd at Parish Pay.
Or else brought up on Pack-Horse from the North,
Born there of Parents who were nothing worth;

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Sent up to Town, as thousands were before,
To Nick and Froth, and Learn the Double Score.
The Northern Sharpness in his Rural Face,
Soon recommends the Stripling to a Place:
Where by some thriving Country-man he's taught,
To Cheat the Guests of ev'ry Quart, a Draught.

Thus when a Seven Years Practice he has made,
And Learn'd Each Knavish Myst'ry of his Trade,
Some labouring Drudge with Twenty Pounds he meets,
Who longs to Dance the shaking of the sheets,
With her he couples and improves his Pence,
With his own hoarded Fools Benevolence;
Who great as Kings, when Drunk do often Grant,
Those Boons to Tapsters which themselves most want.
Then takes a House, hangs up a Yorshire Sign,
New Paints the Door-Case, makes the Lettice fine.

Thus enter'd, such sharp Measures does he take,
By which he thrives whilst twenty Tradesmen break.
At first Industrious as an Indian Slave,
Close as a Miser, Cunning as a Knave;
Humble and Fawning, as a Pedlars Cur,
And to each Cobler Answers, Coming Sir.
His Bread and Cheese he frankly does impart,
And ev'ry thing is done with all his Heart.
Porters are Welcome near the Fire to sit,
And may Command; the Varlet can submit.
Without Offence Red-Herrings they may Broil,
And tattle o'er their Pot a wond'rous while.
Himself will on a Neigh'bring Errand run;
What e'er you speak for in a trice is done.
If Guests desire to keep 'em up till late,
Both without Grumbling will their Leisure wait;
No frowning from the Tike, or maundring from his

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Thus are they careful to oblige at first,
But as they thrive, like Curs, they grow more Curst.
Full Cellars and full Pockets change the Scene,
And make the Lout a Prince, his Drab a Queen.
The Cobbler then must at a distance keep,
And Porters with their Hats in Hand must creep,
No Frape must hover o'er the Kitchen Fire,
They no such Paultry Company do desire:
Sit up, you Fellow, move your Seat you Clown;
And let my Master Such a one sit down.
Pray Troop, I keep a Publick House 'tis true;
But do not light my Fires for such as you.

In comes a Neiphb'ring Servant for some Ale,
Pray dash it with a little drop of Stale:
I've brought no Money you must set it down:
The Maids thus Answer'd by the Surly Clown:
Pray tell your Master I shall draw no more,
Until he comes or sends to clear his Score;
I'd rather in my Cellar keep my Beer,
Than send it out on Trust I know not where.
Perhaps some Neighb'ring Tradesmen next appear:
Where shall we be to Drink a Pot of Beer?
Can't we go up? No Marry, says the Quean,
None has been Up Stairs since the Room was Clean.
Here Boy the Bell, or else the Kitchen show,
Good Gentlemen, I'm sure, have sat below.
Nay, if we can't go up, we will not stay,
I'll warrant we'll find Houses where we may.
We do not want your Custom, you mistake,
Pray troop, one Swallow won't a Summer make.

Thus is the Baseness of their Nature shown,
No sooner Prosperous but Imperious grown:

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By Wealth made Sawcy, by Misfortune Cow'd;
When Poor, too Humble, and when Rich, too Proud.