Refresht with soft sleep, and Obliging kind Dreams,
Of walking with Silvia by murmuring Streams,
I awak't, and perceiv'd my late parted-with Friend,
In my Chamber did softly my Levee attend;
Some Civilities past, he desir'd me once more,
An odd morning to spend, and some Claret explore;
For he fancied it would be no difficult Matter,
To meet with some Special just over the Water;
For as it oft happens in large Country Town,
At the chief Topping Inns, will no Tipple go down;
But in a Thatcht Cottage remote from the Road,
We do frequently meet with Ale nappy and Good,
So tho Claret we found none the whole City thorough,
Yet perhaps we might find it at last in the Burrough;
With his Argument pleas'd, and my Garments put on,
Took Coach and were hurried down to the Old Swan,
Where a Waterman who will a thousand Lyes tell ye,
Soon wafted us over to Old Pepper-Ally.

I.

Through stinks of all sorts, both the Simple and Compound,
Which through narrow Allies our Senses do confound;
We came to the Bear, which we soon understood,
Was the first House in Southwark built after the Flood,
And has such a Succession of Vintners known,
Not more Names were e're yet in Welsh Pedegree shown:
But Claret with them was so much out of Fashion,
That it has not been known there a whole Generation.

II.

To Tooly-Street hastning, we stept to the Ram's-
Head, but soon found their pretences were Shams;
What blessing to Aries, Stargazers allow,
Yet we found the Sign Retrograde here down below.

III.

To the next Bush advancing we were hardly put to't,
To know whether the Sign was a Leg or a Boot;
So we thinking that there all our hopes would miscarry,
Steer'd our Voyage directly to sign of Old Harry.

IV.

Which although a fine Tavern, yet has scarce other use,
But a Passage to one Justice Ev---ns his House,
Before whom, (all their Creditors soon to confound)
Debtors Swear that they singly are not worth ten Pound;
When we told our Friend Matt, we for Claret would Pay,
He assur'd us his Trade lay a different way,
For Wines were intended—
To Cherish Old Nature, and not to destroy her,
So we wish him half hang'd for a Vinegar Drawer.

V.

Not a Spaniard with Rhotomantadoes can glory,
Nor tell more untruths in a damn'd florid Story,
Than will Robin Fe----der Discourse of the Value
And Richness of Wine's he pretends he can Sell you:
But we quickly perceiv'd by the Wine that he drew us,
That the Vaults of Bull-head were not far from a Brewhouse.

VI.

The Ship which so often has Rode in French Seas,
Whether troubled with Rats or some other Disease,
Is now laid up in Harbour, but who next is her owner,
Is a daring young Spark if he venture upon her.

VII.

If the Bear could afford no Claret was precious,
At old Captain S---ths in the Street they call Gracious;
We soon thought at King's-Arms we should meet with disaster,
For the Servant is oftentimes much like the Master.

VIII.

To the Queen's-head we hastned, and found the House Ring,
By Broom-Men a Singing Old Simon the King;
Besides at the Bar we perceiv'd a poor Trooper
VVas Cursing the Master, and calling him Cooper.
Did not I once know—(cries the brisk Son of Mars)
You once were a Hoop-Tub as poor as mine Ar-----
This occasion'd us both to decline going in,
For Self-Preservation was ne're thought a Sin.

IX.

To the Arms of the Queen, since we Fail'd at her Head,
VVe went, and perceiv'd we as meanly were spead;
For in choice of good Wines Kit. Will---t knows nothing,
Being far better Learned in Nicking and Frothing,
And he had far better, what e're he may talk,
Kept to Drunken All-Fours and his Marlbrough Chalk.

X.

To the King's-Bench we went without hindrance or let,
To see a poor Friend was suspected of Debt;
Dejected we found him, and to chace away sorrow,
(Since only to Fate does belong our to-morrow)
Assur'd him, that we no expences would grudg,
But send for a half Flask of Wine from the Lodg:
He accepted our proffer, and then in a Trice,
VVith some stuff he call'd Claret comes good Mr. Pr---ce,
VVho stands at the Door of King's-Bench with his Keys,
To let Visitants out, and keep in the Flea's;
But when I attempted the Wine he had fill'd,
'Twas fit for no Palate but that of a Jack-smith.
At this I perceiv'd my Imprison'd Friend Smil'd,
And told me, Pr---ce once was a Journeyman-Black-smith:
For indeed we could scarce reconcile it to Reason,
VVhich was the worst Evil, the Wine or the Prison.

XI.

Disappointed by Pr---ce, then of Wood---rd we thought
But when his fine Claret the Chamberlain brought,
Tho the Man might be Good, yet his Claret was Naught.

XII.

Taking Leave of our Friend, with a Libera nos,
Came to Lyon, where once William Feil---r kept House:
At the Door of which stood such a Ghost of a Man,
And as strange in his Dress as if come from Japan;
But the House we found empty, the Drawers all fled,
And the News just arriv'd that the Master was Dead;
VVe were certain that there we all Juices should want,
And so took our Leave of the young Dr. Pl---t.

XIII.

Then to sign of two Hands which together were joyn'd,
VVe were told Claret there we should certainly find:
But the Mistress o'th' House having Conscience most tender,
To procure Acts of Grace was a Zealous pretender;
So busie was she in Soliciting Causes,
Twixt Debtors small hopes, and their Creditors Losses;
She being so perfectly like Widow Blackacre,
VVent out, and both wish that the P----- quickly might take her.

XIV.

To the Sign of three Tuns in the Heart of the Rules,
VVhere the Debtors esteem all their Creditors Fools;
We found Mr. Ro---e who was cutting a Caper,
For joy that he newly had paid Debts by Paper;
So lively and brisk was the Quondam Old Taylor,
In thinking he now might walk free from a Jaylor,
That excesses of Joy did of Sense so bereave him,
We thought that in prudence 'twas fittest to leave him.

XV.

Observing a Bunch of Grapes hang for a Sign,
We at Go---ds then expected to meet with good Wine;
But the Jolly Wine-cooper assur'd us on's Oath,
He estem'd all the Claret in Town but as Froth;
But with Alicant dasht in a Pint of Red-port,
He could counterfeit Claret the best of the sort;
We curst his damn'd Brewings, but wisht his Profession,
Would all of them make such a gen'rous Confession;
So finding cross Fates did our hopes disappoint,
We directly went both of us into the Mint.
Where the Ghosts of poor Debtors are constantly Walking,
Sometimes to themselves, then to other Men talking;
With a Peniless Pocket they constantly roam,
And fancy each Ale-house they come to their home;
There are no stately Taverns, nor Houses of Eating,
But all things appear like a Dull Quakers-Meeting;
Excepting when flustred with Ale, or with Brandy,
They fancy themselves to be Kings great as can be.
It was now just Eleven when walking along,
In a large Room encircl'd about with a throng,
Daniel Topf---ld we spy'd, who once was, I assure ye,
A Topping Brisk Vintner in Lane they call Drury;
But since both his Hopes and his Industry fail,
Was humbly content to find gains by dull Ale:
He invited us in, and a little Room clear,
Where we plainly could all in the place next us hear;
We sat down, and then having of Mugs drank a couple,
We desir'd our Landlord would no more himself trouble,
For we both did about some small odd Business come,
And desir'd we might sit undisturb'd in our Room;
He agree'd, and again to his Company went,
Who were all of them strictly observing of Lent,
And in the whole Room there was scarcely found one,
Whose Person or Face unto us was unknown;
Some Drapers, some Lacemen, some Brewers, some Bakers,
Some Hornified Cuckolds, and some Cuckold-Makers;
But the Vinters, and those of the Wine-selling Trade,
In the place were the most, and the best figure made:
Sometimes they would Swear, and another time Curse,
And hardness of times was their chiefest Discourse;
At the upper end sitting cries old Captain Tw---ne,
I had once a most plentiful stock of Old Wine;
But altho I have fail'd, yet I had my desert,
For Selling Canary so cheap by the Quart;
When to sell't for two Shillings few Men could dispense,
Like an Ass I then sold it for just eighteen Pence.
Sure says Sta---y, who Liv'd at the Mitre and Poland,
Tho I once was a Glazier, and tho I have no Land,
Yet I thought I was once in as ready a way
To have got an Estate, had not Wife gone a stray;
Had a tite Spanish Padlock been ever in Fashion,
I had had the most Vertuous Consort i'th' Nation.
Why, says Wooldr---ge my Bowling-green brings me more Coyn,
And turns to a much better Profit than Wine:
Nay, produce me a Vintner from hence to the Bars,
Who like me lives exempted from Trouble and Cares;
I Drink off my Bottle, am Jocund as any;
Yes, yes, cries Tom. Lawr---ce, but thanks to your Mony.
Think you Coffee and Tea I'de so orderly Brew,
If I was but as well stockt with Mony as you?
I once Liv'd in Fleet-street at sign of the Feather;
Yes, yes, replies Woold---ge, till hot grew the Weather;
And when your Dry Vaults scarcely held a full Pint,
Then hither you came to Sell stuff in the Mint;
But Tom was so netled with this Lew'd Disgrace,
That his Mug had been battred 'gainst Woold---ges Face,
Had not Lumbardstreet-Glover in time interpos'd,
And Piously this sudden Passion compos'd.
Fie, fie, Gentlemen, once of the Hogshead and Barrel,
What shall we in Afflict'ons in Mutiny Quarrel?
We are now in a Vessel, if I may so speak,
That the least tottring of it endangers a Leak.
Ay, says L&wblank;e, who in East-cheap once liv'd at Boars-Head,
Let all men by me, scorn the Wine-selling Trade;
With the slipry Whore Fortune in England I Dealt,
And in Holland I found her the very same Jilt;
She has tost me about like a Dog in a Blanket,
Had my Fate been but kind I should gladly have thank it.
Come a Pox of all Sorrow and Dull heavy Thinking,
Let us chear up our Spirits by Musick and Drinking,
Cries Steph--ns who once at the Billings-gate Dog,
Presented his Claret's, (had general Vogue,)
And produces a Fiddle, with which very often,
The Cares of Sir Edward he used to soften;
But the Company scorning so trifling a help,
Bid him put up his Kitt for a sawcy young whelp.
Nay, nay, nay, says Tom. Mer---re I know no such reason,
For Musick can never be thought out of Season.
What a Pox, cries a Vintner, what would you be at?
Young Parchment Old Dog, dare you venture to Prate?
Don't we know all the Sharping sly tricks that you use?
He's an Ass, says the other, would Musick refuse:
At this, Hoop----tr Discharg'd his Mugg full at his Head,
And th'other the Friendship with Interest paid:
Each Party had Seconds whom passion made Warm,
And Glasses and Pots flew like Hail in a Storm:
So not knowing what Murder and Blood might ensue,
In hast paid for our Drink, and so timely withdrew,
Resolving the dull tedious search to give o're,
And never inquire for Old Dry Claret more.