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         Earle, John, 1601?-1665.
      
       
         
           1675
        
      
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         A39447
         Wing E87
         ESTC R22202
         12264319
         ocm 12264319
         57935
         
           
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             The character of a tavern with a brief draught of a drawer.
             Earle, John, 1601?-1665.
          
           [3], 6 p.
           
             Printed for D.A.,
             London :
             1675.
          
           
             Attributed to J. Earle. Cf. Wing.
             Reproduction of original in British Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Hotels.
           Bars (Drinking establishments)
           Taverns (Inns)
        
      
    
     
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           THE
           CHARACTER
           OF
           A
           TAVERN
           .
        
         
           With
           A
           brief
           draught
           of
           a
           DRAWER
           .
        
         
         
           LONDON
           ,
           Printed
           for
           
             D.
             A.
          
           1675.
           
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
         
           THE
           Character
           OF
           A
           TAVERN
           ,
           &c.
           
        
         
           ATavern
           is
           an
           Academy
           of
           Debauchery
           ,
           where
           the
           Devil
           teaches
           the
           seven
           deadly
           sins
           instead
           of
           Sciences
           ,
           a
           Tipling-School
           a
           degree
           above
           an
           Ale-house
           ,
           where
           you
           may
           be
           drunk
           with
           more
           Credit
           and
           Apology
           ,
           't
           is
           the
           Randevouz
           of
           Gallants
           ,
           the
           Good
           Fellows
           Paradice
           ,
           and
           the
           Misers
           Terrour
           ,
           who
           fits
           here
           in
           fear
           of
           his
           Life
           because
           of
           the
           shot
           ;
           A
           Map
           of
           the
           World
           ,
           where
           all
           humours
           are
           drawn
           in
           Epitome
           ,
           
           and
           the
           best
           Theatre
           of
           Natures
           and
           Dispositions
           ,
           which
           are
           here
           truly
           Acted
           not
           Plaid
           ;
           A
           melancholly
           man
           may
           find
           matter
           enough
           to
           divert
           him
           ,
           to
           see
           Heads
           as
           Brittle
           as
           Glasses
           ,
           and
           as
           often
           broken
           ,
           to
           observe
           men
           both
           come
           hither
           to
           Quarrel
           ,
           and
           come
           hither
           to
           be
           made
           Friends
           ,
           so
           that
           if
           the
           simile
           were
           not
           already
           worn
           thredbare
           ,
           I
           would
           call
           it
           Telephus's
           Sword
           that
           both
           makes
           wounds
           and
           cures
           them
           .
        
         
           T
           is
           an
           Engine
           of
           the
           largest
           size
           ,
           for
           draining
           the
           Pocket
           ,
           the
           common
           Consumption
           of
           the
           Afternoon
           ,
           and
           the
           maker
           away
           of
           a
           Rainy
           day
           ,
           a
           
             Torrid
             Zone
          
           that
           scorches
           their
           Faces
           that
           long
           Inhabit
           it
           ,
           whilst
           Tobacco
           is
           the
           
             Gun
             powder
          
           that
           blows
           them
           up
           ,
           so
           that
           much
           danger
           were
           to
           be
           dreaded
           if
           the
           Charitable
           Vintner
           should
           not
           have
           store
           of
           Water
           ready
           to
           allay
           these
           Flames
           ;
           
             House
             of
             Sin
          
           you
           may
           call
           it
           ,
           but
           not
           a
           
             House
             of
             Darkness
          
           ,
           For
           the
           Candles
           are
           seldom
           out
           ,
           and
           it
           is
           like
           those
           Countries
           near
           the
           North-Pole
           ,
           where
           't
           is
           as
           clear
           at
           midnight
           as
           at
           mid
           day
           .
        
         
           'T
           is
           a
           Bedlam
           of
           Wits
           ,
           where
           men
           ate
           rather
           mad
           than
           merry
           ,
           here
           one
           breaking
           a
           Jest
           on
           the
           Drawer
           ,
           or
           perhaps
           a
           Candlestick
           or
           Bottle
           over
           his
           Crown
           ,
           there
           another
           repeating
           scraps
           of
           old
           Plays
           ,
           or
           some
           Bawdy
           Song
           ,
           this
           speaking
           Latine
           ,
           and
           a
           fourth
           Nonsence
           ,
           whilst
           all
           with
           loud
           hooting
           and
           laughing
           confound
           the
           noise
           of
           Fidlers
           ,
           who
           are
           properly
           call'd
           a
           Noise
           ,
           for
           no
           Musick
           can
           be
           heard
           for
           them
           ;
           'T
           is
           a
           Babel
           
           of
           Voices
           ,
           a
           
             Gallimans
             fry
          
           of
           Opinions
           ,
           and
           an
           
             Hodge
             Podge
          
           of
           Nations
           ,
           you
           shall
           hear
           one
           talking
           very
           gravely
           of
           Religion
           ,
           and
           another
           Ranting
           ,
           and
           
             swearing
             Dammee
          
           ,
           and
           
             Sink
             mee
          
           ,
           at
           the
           same
           instant
           ,
           parties
           of
           different
           Sects
           and
           perswasions
           will
           meet
           here
           ,
           and
           be
           sociable
           though
           not
           at
           Church
           ;
           And
           below
           in
           the
           Cellar
           you
           shall
           see
           the
           French
           and
           the
           Spanish
           ,
           with
           the
           Natives
           of
           the
           Rhine
           (
           notwithstanding
           the
           present
           Wars
           between
           them
           )
           lye
           quietly
           altogether
           .
        
         
           As
           you
           come
           in
           to
           shew
           that
           you
           are
           going
           to
           a
           Tryal
           of
           your
           Lives
           ,
           you
           must
           first
           appear
           at
           the
           Bar
           ,
           where
           Madam
           Minks
           with
           her
           Head
           behung
           with
           as
           many
           Toys
           as
           their
           Bush
           ,
           sits
           like
           the
           Goddess
           Semele
           (
           Mother
           of
           Bacchus
           )
           under
           her
           all-commanding
           Canopy
           ,
           
             Casting
             the
             Nativityes
          
           of
           your
           Estates
           in
           strange
           
             Aegyptian
             Hieroglyphicks
          
           and
           Trithemian
           Characters
           ;
           And
           finds
           by
           the
           Horoscope
           of
           the
           Board
           ,
           and
           frequent
           Ill
           Directions
           of
           
             Score
             in
             the
             Half
             Moon
          
           ,
           That
           your
           Fortunes
           are
           short-liv'd
           ,
           and
           your
           Purses
           declining
           into
           an
           
             Irrevocable
             Consumption
          
           ;
           Next
           the
           
             Blew
             Apron'd
          
           Captain
           of
           this
           Inchanted
           Castle
           comes
           into
           view
           ,
           you
           wou'd
           take
           him
           for
           a
           Hogshead
           set
           on
           two
           stumps
           ,
           and
           mov'd
           by
           Scrues
           or
           Clockwork
           ,
           for
           his
           Belly
           is
           big
           enough
           for
           a
           
             Popish
             Limbus
          
           ,
           yet
           coming
           nearer
           ,
           you
           may
           discern
           somewhat
           like
           that
           which
           in
           Men
           they
           call
           a
           Face
           ,
           but
           broader
           then
           the
           Pewter
           Platter
           in
           Sr.
           Johns-street
           ,
           and
           studded
           and
           embost
           all
           over
           with
           vices
           Heraldry
           .
        
         
         
           In
           the
           midst
           of
           which
           his
           Nose
           blazes
           like
           a
           Comet
           ,
           and
           infallibly
           pretends
           drought
           :
           He
           thinks
           nature
           gave
           him
           a
           Mouth
           ,
           not
           so
           much
           to
           speak
           ,
           as
           to
           drink
           off
           his
           Liquor
           ,
           For
           that
           is
           the
           main
           use
           he
           puts
           it
           to
           ,
           and
           of
           all
           the
           miracles
           that
           ever
           Christ
           did
           ,
           he
           thinks
           none
           so
           meritorious
           ,
           
             As
             the
             turning
             Water
             into
             Wine
             ,
          
           which
           he
           himself
           often
           endeavours
           to
           imitate
           .
        
         
           These
           Animals
           we
           must
           pray
           ,
           intreat
           ,
           crave
           ,
           beseech
           ,
           and
           implore
           for
           a
           Bottle
           that
           's
           neat
           and
           brisk
           ,
           and
           Racy
           ,
           and
           at
           last
           go
           without
           it
           ,
           unless
           we
           bribe
           Death's
           Emissaries
           ,
           those
           Dregs
           and
           Lees
           of
           Mortality
           ,
           your
           yaulìng
           ,
           impudent
           ,
           saucy
           ,
           nimble-tongued
           
             A-non-a-non
             Sirs
          
           ,
           to
           whom
           once
           more
           you
           must
           beg
           as
           heartily
           as
           a
           Condemn'd
           Man
           does
           for
           a
           Reprieve
           ,
           That
           they
           would
           gratiously
           be
           pleased
           not
           to
           poison
           you
           at
           your
           own
           charge
           ;
           Indeed
           there
           is
           scarce
           a
           Pint
           true
           ,
           wholsome
           and
           right
           drank
           ,
           which
           the
           Guests
           do
           not
           twice
           pay
           for
           ,
           first
           to
           the
           Drawer
           ,
           and
           then
           to
           the
           Master
           ,
           and
           there
           is
           more
           Wine
           vended
           in
           a
           year
           ,
           in
           this
           one
           over-grown
           City
           ,
           under
           the
           notion
           of
           Canary
           ,
           than
           the
           whole
           Canaries
           produce
           ;
           But
           there
           lies
           the
           Excellency
           and
           Mistery
           of
           the
           Trade
           ,
           he
           that
           is
           best
           at
           Brewing
           and
           Balderdashing
           Wines
           is
           most
           esteemed
           ,
           and
           this
           they
           call
           managing
           a
           Cellar
           ,
           the
           end
           of
           which
           is
           to
           cheat
           Mens
           Palates
           ,
           and
           the
           effect
           to
           destroy
           their
           Bodies
           :
           The
           Pharmacopeia
           of
           a
           Mountebank
           ,
           or
           the
           Quackeries
           of
           
             Moor
             fields
          
           ,
           befriend
           not
           the
           Grave-makers
           ,
           so
           much
           as
           these
           Squires
           of
           the
           Spiggot
           do
           ;
           for
           Pandora's
           Box
           never
           gave
           vent
           to
           the
           Tyth
           
           of
           those
           mischiefs
           that
           are
           broached
           with
           a
           Pip●
           of
           sophisticated
           Wine
           ,
           which
           makes
           me
           fancy
           when
           they
           Ring
           for
           the
           Boy
           to
           fetch
           t'other
           Pint
           ,
           that
           I
           hear
           the
           Passing
           bell
           of
           those
           that
           send
           for
           it
           .
           And
           when
           the
           splay
           mouth'd
           Rascals
           cry
           ,
           
             D'
             ye
             call
             Sir
          
           ,
           Methinks
           it
           sounds
           like
           Charons
           Voice
           summoning
           us
           to
           his
           Ferry-boat
           :
           To
           hear
           them
           baul
           out
           their
           Hypocritical
           wel
           come
           ,
           the
           Satyr
           would
           as
           much
           wonder
           as
           at
           the
           Man
           ,
           that
           blew
           hot
           and
           cold
           :
           For
           they
           welcome
           when
           you
           go
           in
           ,
           and
           welcome
           when
           you
           go
           out
           ,
           and
           yet
           't
           is
           not
           you
           are
           welcome
           at
           all
           ,
           but
           your
           Money
           .
        
         
           Nor
           is
           it
           only
           with
           their
           Cups
           (
           like
           Circe
           )
           that
           they
           inchant
           us
           ,
           they
           can
           help
           you
           to
           a
           dainty
           morsel
           too
           at
           Luculluses
           price
           ;
           Their
           Fricacies
           and
           Phagon's
           ,
           Dishes
           you
           must
           pay
           four
           times
           over
           for
           .
           First
           ,
           for
           the
           meat
           .
           Secondly
           ,
           for
           dressing
           .
           Thirdly
           ,
           for
           sausce
           .
           And
           Fourthly
           ,
           for
           the
           hard
           name
           ;
           When
           they
           provide
           you
           a
           Dinner
           ,
           you
           were
           better
           keep
           open
           house
           all
           Christmas
           ,
           their
           Extravagant
           Treats
           in
           the
           great
           Chamber
           ,
           serve
           only
           to
           debauch
           the
           Hospitality
           of
           private
           Families
           ,
           and
           are
           most
           effectual
           decoys
           ,
           where
           a
           young
           Bridegroom
           many
           times
           spends
           half
           his
           Wives
           Portion
           for
           the
           conveniency
           of
           Dancing
           and
           Fiddles
           ;
           Let
           the
           Room
           be
           never
           so
           neat
           when
           you
           come
           in
           ,
           after
           a
           little
           fitting
           ,
           It
           becomes
           like
           the
           street
           after
           a
           dashing
           shower
           ,
           where
           the
           Spouts
           are
           flushing
           above
           ,
           and
           the
           Conduits
           running
           below
           ,
           whilst
           the
           Iordans
           like
           swelling
           Rivers
           over-flow
           their
           Banks
           ,
           and
           the
           Urine
           
           drops
           through
           the
           Ceiling
           into
           the
           mouth
           of
           him
           that
           sits
           under
           ;
        
         
           In
           brief
           ,
           a
           
             Tavern
             is
             a
             Scene
             of
             Confusion
             ;
             A
             Gulf
             to
             swallow
             up
             a
             Mans
             Money
             ,
             and
             his
             time
             ,
             which
             is
             yet
             more
             pretious
             ;
             a
             Nursery
             of
             Extravagancy
             ,
             and
             a
             necessary
             place
             for
             Assignations
             between
             Cracks
             and
             their
             Cullies
             .
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
         
      
    
     
  

