His frequentest works go out in single sheets, and are chanted from market to market to a vile tune and a worse throat; whilst the poor country wench melts like her butter to hear them:  and these are the stories of some men of Tyburn, or a strange monster out of Germany;[50] or, sitting in a bawdy-house, he writes God’s judgments.  He drops away at last in some obscure painted cloth, to which himself made the verses,[51] and his life, like a can too full, spills upon the bench.  He leaves twenty shillings on the score, which my hostess loses.

A PLAUSIBLE MAN

Is one that would fain run an even path in the world, and jut against no man.  His endeavour is not to offend, and his aim the general opinion.  His conversation is a kind of continued compliment, and his life a practice of manners.  The relation he bears to others, a kind of fashionable respect, not friendship but friendliness, which is equal to all and general, and his kindnesses seldom exceed courtesies.  He loves not deeper mutualities, because he would not take sides, nor hazard himself on displeasures, which he principally avoids.  At your first acquaintance with him he is exceedingly kind and friendly, and at your twentieth meeting after but friendly still.  He has an excellent command over his patience and tongue, especially the last, which he accommodates always to the times and persons, and speaks seldom what is sincere, but what is civil.  He is one that uses all companies, drinks all healths, and is reasonable cool in all religions. [He considers who are friends to the company, and speaks well where he is sure to hear of it again.] He can listen to a foolish discourse with an applausive attention, and conceal his laughter at nonsense.  Silly men much honour and esteem him, because by his fair reasoning with them as with men of understanding, he puts them into an erroneous opinion of themselves, and makes them forwarder hereafter to their own discovery.  He is one rather well[52] thought on than beloved, and that love he has is more of whole companies together than any one in particular.  Men gratify him notwithstanding with a good report, and whatever vices he has besides, yet having no enemies, he is sure to be an honest fellow.

A BOWL-ALLEY

Is the place where there are three things thrown away beside bowls, to wit, time, money, and curses, and the last ten for one.  The best sport in it is the gamesters, and he enjoys it that looks on and bets not.  It is the school of wrangling, and worse than the schools, for men will cavil here for a hair’s breadth, and make a stir where a straw would end the controversy.  No antick screws men’s bodies into such strange flexures, and you would think them here senseless, to speak sense to their bowl, and put their trust in entreaties for a good cast.  The betters are the factious noise of the alley, or