THE Search after Claret; OR, A VISITATION OF THE VINTNERS. A POEM In two CANTOS.  
Doubtless the Pleasure is as great  
In being Cheated, as to Cheat.  Hudibras. 
London, Printed for E. Hawkins, 1691.   

THE Epistle Dedicatory.  
TO all Lovers, Admirers and Doters on Claret,  
(Who tho' at Deaths-Door, yet can hadly forbear it)  
Who can Miracles credit, and fancy Red-Port  
To be Sprightly Puntack, and the best of the sort.  
To all Mornings-draught Men, who drink bitter Wine,  
To Create a false Stomach against they're to Dine.  
To all Tavern-kitchen Frequenters and Haunters,  
Who go thither to hear Mistress Cooks foolish Banters,  
To Partake of a Dumpling, or Sop in the Pan;  
A Large Rummer Drank up, troop as fast as they can.  
To all sober Half-Pint Men, and serious Sippers.  
To all old Maudlin Drinkers, and 12 a Clock Bibbers,  
To all Drinking Committees, Knots, Clubs, Corporations  
Who while others are snoring, they're settling the Nations  
To all the brisk Beau's who think Life but a Play,  
Who make Day like the Night, and turn Night into Day.  
To all Lovers of Red and White-Port, Syracuse,  
Barcelona, Navarr, or Canaries sweet Juice.  
To all Drinkers of Sherry, Old Hock, or Moselle,  
Or of Tent, which soon teaches the Flesh to Rebel.  
To all Alicant-Tasters, and Malaga-Sots.  
To all Friends to Straw-Bottles, and Nicking Quart-Pots.  
To all Bacchus his Friends, who have Taverns frequented,  
This following Poem 
 Is Humbly Presented.   
A satire ON THE VINTNERS.  

CANTO. I.  

FRom keeping our Christmas, not far from Tom. Jolly's,  
Where innocent Mirth without Gambols and Follies,  
Where a plentiful Table, and strong humming Liquor,  
Served to lengthen the Days, and make Night pass the quicker;  
Half tired with that Friendship and Kindness was shown,  
My Friend and myself then resolved for the Town,  
To Drink, since our Stomaches both craved and could bear it,  
A Bottle of good Old Dry Orthodox Claret;  
We called not at Bow, lest all things should not hap well,  
And stopped not to Drink till we came to White-Chappel.   

I.  
Where the first House we entered was honest Tom. C— xes,  
And planting ourselves within one of his Boxes;  
We Ordered the Drawer to call for our Friend,  
If a Glass of good Claret to us he'd commend;  
He smiled at our Question, and shaking his Noddle,  
He told us by Yea and by Nay not a Bottle;  
But if we would call for a Glass of Red-Port,  
He'd afford us the best, or be paid nothing for't;  
But our thoughts with his Canting not able to wrestle,  
Declining his Motion we went to the Castle.   

II.  
Where it seems a too plentiful dose of Canary,  
Which some Butchers had Drank for to make themselves Merry,  
Had by Liberal Bumpers quite spoiled the design,  
And made them all mad by their Drinking much Wine;  
But seeing they all were Engaged Snicker-Snee,  
We thought fit to march off, and keep our skins free.   

III.  
At the Crown, of good Claret we sure were to fail,  
Which like the Inn Drink was half Mild and half Stale.   

IV.  
At P— points we called, but what e'er was the matter,  
His Magpie had long since forgotten to chatter,  
And no wonder at all he had laid by his Note,  
When of Claret—  
He had not a drop for to moisten his Throat.   

V.  
Through Aldgate then passing, we stop at the Mitre,  
Where Young Married Couples to make their Hearts lighter,  
Take a jolly brisk Glass to ●mbolden 'em to say  
That very hard Chapter, for Ever and for Ay.  
But the Drawers and S—th were so busy in Burning  
Of Red and White-Port, for the Bridegroom's returning,  
That they had no leisure (such mischief was in't)  
If they had any Claret, t'have drawn us a Pint.   

VI  
At the Crown we Expected to find a good Draught,  
But minding two Drawers who whispered and laughed  
When we asked for Old Claret, we soon changed our Notes,  
And spending no Pence, bid good Morn Mr. C— taes.   

VII.  
We'd have called at the Rose, but we had a suspicion,  
(As wishing does sometimes exceed a fruition)  
That if we attempted to Taste of his Wine,  
'T would have a Complexion like that of the Sign.   

VIII.  
At the Griffin and Hoop we were farther to seek,  
For Claret to them was as barbarous as Greek;  
Of Red and White-Port in their Vaults was no lack,  
But by Bacchus they had not a drop of Puntack;  
Sure Popery will now be the A la-mode Fashion,  
When the Vintners can swallow Transubstantiation,  
And the Wine that was French about six Months ago,  
Has quite changed its nature, and's no longer so.   

IX.  
They whose Faith can a Vintner's absurdities swallow,  
May take Scarlet for Blue, or Crimson for Yellow;  
For when for Old Claret we asked Mr. St— bs,  
The Devil a drop could we find in his Tubs.   

X.  
The King's - Arms by its odd Situation and Bar,  
Did so like an Alsatian Tavern appear,  
That to taste of their Wines we were almost afraid,  
And so crossing the Kennel went to the Naggs-Head.   

XI.  
Not Rome for its Building was ever more famous,  
Or the late Times for Juries, they called Ignoramus,  
Than was that for Claret; but ah! how we rue it,  
Jam jam Seges nunc est, u— by Troja fuit.   

XII.  
At our Friend Jacob Fr●●klins we thought to have found,  
Such Claret as would a dull Stoic confound;  
But our Friends in this Cause with the Wicked will join,  
He had no Claret (plainly) but he had Port-Wine,  
By which it appears like Noonday to the Eye,  
Tho' Saints may not Swear, they're permitted to Lye.   

XIII.  
The Mermaid who Swum in the Waves of brisk Claret,  
Complains her Complexion no longer can bear it,  
Since which time in the Stream of Oporto she glides,  
Forgetting she ever knew Bourdeax swift Tides;  
Yet it looks something odd, and a kin to a Trance,  
That Lewis of Cornhill scorns Lewis of France.   

XIV.  
In some place of his Vaults that resemble a Church,  
One would think Peter W●llis his Claret did Lurch,  
But he Swears that his Tuns are as empty of any,  
As a bit Country Cully is empty of Money;  
Besides he produces a Miracle for't,  
What in Cheapside was Claret's, now turned to Red-Port.   

XV.  
What resemblance the Ship and the Castle may bear,  
To Ships floating on Clouds, or to Castles in Air,  
We know not, but this we are sure of, 'tis plain,  
Their Clarets are serfectly Leigerdemain.   

XVI.  
By St. Gregory's Slippers we thought not to miss  
Of a Glass of Puntack at the Sign of the Fleece;  
But he solemnly swore by the Saint of his Name,  
For this twelvemonths he had not a drop of that same.   

XVII.  
Who ever was formerly Bit by the Bear,  
Served as use of Instruction to make us take care;  
For when ever the Soul of a Vintner is fled,  
In his Cellars a strange Interregnum succeed,  
Reds' quarrel with Whites, and Canary with both,  
If this be not so, give the Cooper his Oath;  
However for decency sake they are civil,  
Yet with Widow's Wine-Cellers the Drawers play the Devil.   

XVIII.  
He must surely have more than the Brains of a Man,  
Who at Change-time can suffer the noise of the Swan,  
A Half-Flask of Red-Port, a Pint of Canary,  
A Quart of Old Hock, and a Bottle of Sherry,  
Are the noises the Drawers do make every minute;  
If this be not pleasing the Devil is in it.  
Let me Drink with my Friend without noise or a throng,  
Here all in Confusion's played all the year long.   

XIX.  
Looking at the King's-Head, and observing the Sign,  
We suspected to find but effeminate Wine;  
For the Painter had Drawn him a Caesar in Dress,  
With an Amazons Hair, and a Womanish Face.   

XX.  
What ever Devotion we pay to the Sign  
Of Pope's Head, 'tis be sure for the sake of his Wine;  
But his Tenant was lately Cashiered for an ill-son,  
And he hopes that the Capt. proves better than wilson,  
To which end all his Wines that from France lately came,  
Are to be Rebaptised with a more Christian Name.   

XXI.  
At his Door with a Rummer we found Neddy Dr— ne'er,  
And perceived by his looks that he was a Complainer.  
We whispered in's Ear, and desired (could he spare it)  
To let's have a Bottle or two of old Claret;  
He started as frighted to hear our Demands,  
And answered, why Gentlemen (holding up's hands)  
D'ye know what you mean? Let me die like an Ass,  
If this twelvemonth I've seen, smelled, or tasted a Glass.   

XXII.  
We shook our Heads at him, and crossing the way,  
At the Globe we attempted another Essay;  
When we asked for old Claret, the Drawers were enchanted,  
And we for our parts thought the Mansion was Haunted,  
So leaving the Tavern, in study profound,  
We concluded indeed that the Globe was turned round.   

XXIII.  
At the Mitre we called in, and walking the Entry,  
Spied a Soldier in Habit much unlike a Sentry,  
Who spewing, did in his short intervals say,  
Pox take your Red-Port, and so Reeled on his way,  
We soon took the hint from his Stomach's Alarms;  
They're wise gain Experience by other men's Harms.   

XXIV.  
Half vexed to be baulked in our pious design,  
At the Birds with long Bills, vainly strove to get in;  
For a Crowd at the Door 'bout a Man that was Pressed,  
Denied our Admittance and yet spoiled no Jest,  
For we fancied that Tavern was like all the rest.   

XXV.  
At the Rose we no sooner had come to the Bar,  
But a saucy Whelp asked if Arrested we were;  
We esteemed this Affront, as provoking as any,  
Kicked his Arse, and went out without spending a Penny.   

XXVI.  
We looked in at the Ship and found the Boys idle;  
And it seemed unto us but a kind of a Riddle,  
That a Vessel which only was fit to vend Brandy,  
Should pretend to sell Wines, ay, and those good as can be;  
Besides, when we thought of a late Declaration,  
Which was there hatched in order to settle the Nation;  
We declined going in, lest at once we should lose,  
Both our Health and our Credit by entering the House.   

XXVII.  
At the Feathers we called to see honest Paul C—ry,  
Who was treating himself with a Glass of Canary;  
What, Paul, says my friend, dost thou Abdicate Claret?  
Of all mankind I thought you could never forbear it;  
He replied, once my Vaults had a plentiful Crop,  
But since my last Journey the Devil a Drop.   

XXVIII.  
At the Bullhead Arrived, we'd have called to see V—rs,  
But observing how Cullies and Cracks flocked by Pairs  
To the House, as the Unclean Beasts did into the Ark;  
We were certain we then had mistaken our mark.   

XXIX.  
At the Shepherd when boldly for Claret we asked,  
He told us he'd very good Florence was Flaskt;  
We smiled at the wit of the pleasant Drawcansir,  
And thought it was much such a pertinent answer,  
As if I should ask a Man where he does dwell?  
And he tells me his Wife and his Children are well.   

XXX.  
At the Nagshead of good we were sure to despair,  
When we spied a young Female a sleep at the Bar,  
When the Inches of Candles were twinkling in Sockets,  
And the Drawers stood yawning with hands in their Pockets.   

XXXI.  
At Mat. Fowlers the famed Tory Tavern then calling,  
Where the Drawers were all of them Hoarse with their Bawling.  
When of delicate Claret we asked for the best,  
We were told, with that Juice his Vaults once were oppressed,  
But they had not a Drop since the Prentices Feast.   

XXXII.  
Thus finding our wishes all come by mishap,  
Went to House with the sign of Prelatical Cap,  
And ask for Claret, the Master returning  
This answer, for want on't his Tuns were in Mourning;  
We presently knew he had found out the Knack,  
With Red-Port to supply all his wants of Puntack.   

XXXIII.  
To Paul's Churchyard hasting, amongst Drapers, Chair-makers',  
Whereof some are Christians, and others are Quakers.  
We called in at Pea— ks, and asked him the Question,  
But he told us his Wine, though it had the Complexion,  
Was no more Bourdeaux Claret, than Brawn could be taken,  
Or by any one thought to be Gammon of Bacon.  
Besides, his Guests long since did's Claret Devour,  
By drinking of Healths to th' Bishops i'th' Tower.   

XXXIV.  
Then Crossing the way we stepped to Tom. A— llns,  
But he swore by Stains-Bridg that he had but six Gallons  
Of Claret; and they of his Trade were all Block heads,  
If of that, of Red-Port they made not six Hogsheads.   

XXXV.  
At the Captains we thought t'have found that which was good,  
But he told us in short, 'twas a Wonder we should;  
For the French Wine he bought, and paid ready Coal for't,  
ere it came into Cornhill 'twould all of't be Port.   

XXXVI.  
Then passing through Ludgate we stepped to the Widows,  
Who a very kind Welcome obligingly bid us;  
But Old St— re assured us, of rich Claret Wine,  
Their Tuns were as empty as those of the Sign.   

XXXVII.  
Just crossing, we came to the Vulture and George,  
Where just against the entrance, in Bar that was large,  
Daniel Eu— r appeared with a Presence as Noble,  
As if he were Visier at Constantinople.  
When we asked him for Claret, he had not a Drop,  
For the New River-Water Men drank it all up;  
Tho the Riddle itself we could hardly Divine,  
How the Dealers in Water should Drink so much Wine.   

XXXVIII.  
Passing over Fleet-Bridg, still on that side the way,  
We resolved at the five Bells a visit to pay;  
When we asked him for Claret, he vowed not a drop,  
For he had in Lavender laid it all up,  
Resolving for no man to draw off a Gill on't,  
Till by Law he could let all his Guests have their fill on't;  
His obstinate Humour we well could not weather,  
So stepped cross the way for to call at the Feather.   

XXXIX.  
But how much surprised were we, both for to find,  
The Birds flown, who had yet left their Feathers behind.   

XL.  
To the Castle we went, and for Gl— ver enquired,  
And a Glass of Old Claret we humbly desired;  
But he vowed he had none on't what ever weed'd pay,  
For 'twas all on't Drunk up last Coecilias day.   

XLI.  
At the Greyhound we called, and did Claret demand,  
But the Drawers or did, or would not understand;  
Sir we have Florence, Old Hock Sir, or very good Port;  
Have you so (says my Friend) then to make you some sport,  
Mix your Wines all together, and when they are thick,  
Add some Gunpowder to 'em and give 'em Old-Nick.   

XLII.  
To the Globe we then marching just over the way,  
We found Drawers engaged in Blood, Battle, and Fray;  
So thinking that Claret we there should find none,  
Turned our backs on the Bar, and advanced to the Sun.   

XLIII.  
Where the Captain it seems, to his thoughts recommending,  
The threatening loud storm o'er the Vintner's impending;  
Discreetly resolves for to leave off betimes,  
And not be the Partner of other men's Crimes,  
Will Retire to the Country, and Live free from Strife,  
The wisest of Actions he did in his Life.   

XLIV.  
At the Horn we were welcomed with so much Address,  
As if we were persons of highest Nobless;  
But when our demands had arrived at their Ears,  
By their Looks we soon read their suspicions and fears;  
For Informers they took us, but we well assured,  
That this was a Grievance not fit t' b' endured,  
Called 'em all Sons of Bachelors, Panders and Whores,  
And so in a Passion went both out of Doors.   

XLV.  
When at the Green Dragon we asked for some Claret,  
Us as if we were Camels the Drawers did stare at;  
They told of good Port we were sure not to fail,  
But we fearing the Sting it might have in the Tail,  
Declined it.—   

XLVI.  
— And so to the Fleece next advancing,  
We heard such confusion of Singing and Dancing;  
And not willing to follow so loud an Example,  
ne'er stepped in, but crossed over the way to the Temple.   

XLVII.  
Where Watt— like the Swiss of his Family stood,  
We whispering in's Ear for a Bottle of Good;  
Why Gentlemen, says he, observe but my Sing,  
And you'll ne'er think I sell Antichristian Wine.   

XL VIII.  
We had called at the Hoop, but the Door was shut fast,  
And we heard the poor F—nch had just warbled his last;  
In some places we spend what in others we get,  
So the House and the Widow are both to be Let.   

XLIX.  
At the Captains we hope't to have met with a Glass,  
(But sometimes we wish for what ne'er comes to pass)  
He assured us of Claret he had not a Gill,  
But of Delicate Florence we might have our fill;  
And could he find Claret he'd give nothing for't;  
So we lest the Bullhead, cause his Horns were so short.   

L.  
At the Head of Old Jolly Gruff great Codpeiced Harry,  
We expected to find out a Glass to be Merry;  
But the name of Puntack was forgotten and Dead,  
And strange Barcelona now Reigned in his stead;  
Withal such a noise was still made at the Bar,  
Of Florentine Flasks, and full Quarts of Navarre;  
Let me Die of the Pip, or my Mistress scorn,  
If I did not suppose that I was at Leghorn.   

LI.  
We were crossing the way at the Star for to call in,  
But alas! we perceived the Bright Meteor was fallen,   

LII.  
At the the Queens-head the Porters were letting down Wines,  
And at the Ropes, stumbling, my Friend hurt his Shins;  
This as an ill Omen supposing, refused,  
Within with bad Wine to be doubly abused.   

LIII.  
By the noise of Port, Port, which the Drawers all made,  
One would guests the Three-Tuns had a thundering great Trade;  
But Claret was Hebrew and Greek to their Ears,  
Tho' they know it as well as they do their Neck Verse.  
He does all th' occasions of doubting prevent,  
That's Cheated and Bubbled by's proper consent.   

LIV.  
At Fen— ks the Son of a Parson so civil,  
Who lives at the sign of the Junior Devil;  
We asked for a Bottle of you know what Juice,  
But he told he'd oblige us with rare Syracuse;  
Syracuse quoth my Friend! what a Devil is that?  
For as sure as my Brains now lie under my Hat,  
It may be Aqua-Fortis, or else I may lie.  
Pox take your hard name Sir, and so Sir good Bu'y.   

LV.  
At the Young-Devil failing, we went to his Dam,  
But as soon as in sight of the Bar we were came,  
A Drawer Officiously shows us a Room;  
We told him immediately for what 'twas we come;  
He started as if a pale Ghost he had seen,  
Lord Gentlemen! pray you explain what you mean:  
My Friend had explained it, I faith, on his Pate,  
If by my interposing I hindered not that;  
But because I desired him for once to be civil,  
He concluded with Heaven keep us from all evil;  
But send you all quickly, from whence we go, the Devil.  
Thus finding the Vintners, some Swearing, all Lying,  
And that no Man in's Wits would their words ere rely on;  
Despairing to find out a Glass of good Claret,  
Tho we thought 'twas no Virtue all times to forbear it;  
Finding all our Endeavours, our Hopes, Wishes fail,  
We concluded the Evening with Nottingham Ale,  
Resolving next morning as soon as daybreak,  
(Dispatching some business) to search for Puntack.    

CANTO II.  

Wished morning arrived, where Men Ply for their Fares,  
We took Oars, and were Landed at Parliament-Stairs;  
Having finished our Business in Westminster-Hall,  
Where the Lawyers do Billingsgate loudly out-baul.   

I.  
At the Bufflers-head first we propounded the question,  
But the Master o'th' House was such a more— dost one;  
He believed that there was not a Drop in the Nation,  
For 'twas all on't drunk up at the Last Coronation.   

II.  
At the Fountain then looking, we liked not the Sign,  
For Hedg-Taverns have commonly none but Hedg-Wine.   

III.  
We'd have called at the Bell, but were told by a Scout,  
That the Clapper for several Months has been out.   

IV.  
As we entered the Sun with a grave Spanish pace,  
Met a Man in the Entry was Scorched in the Face;  
But we willing to learn Wit by other men's Harms,  
Left the House, and directly went to the King's-Arms.   

V.  
Who though they pretended to sell Red good as can be,  
I'd rather at any time drink Cherry-Brandy.   

VI  
Where ever the Swans may have done in the City,  
The Swan here in King-street had sung her last Ditty.   

VII.  
Then passing along to the sign of St. Andrew,  
And expecting to find Wine as good as e'er Man Drew;  
But we found that our hopes were all as much mistaken,  
As his that took Sturgeon for Gammon of Bacon.   

VIII.  
Then passing Whitehall, we first came to the Rummer,  
Which like a Town Jilt receives every new comer,  
But they were so busy in Dressing great Dinners,  
That they than had no Rome for two thirsty poor Sinners.   

IX. X. XI. XII. XIII.  
At the Garter my Friend called, I at the King's-head,  
And we both at the Crown, and three Tuns thought to speed,  
Nor omitted to call at the sign Sandy-pryed;  
But alas! how some people in Lying will Glory,  
For Vintners like Gypsyes hang all in a Story.  
And when we demanded a Glass of Puntack,  
Swore they had not a Drop if their Souls lay at stake.   

XIV.  
We had called at the Buffler, but that we both thought,  
Our Friend's Wine and his Faith were both equally naught.   

XV.  
At the Lion the Master was thumping the Back  
Of a Drawer, who at Bar by mistake cried Puntack;  
If naming the word is so Criminal thought,  
The Vintners their Hogs t'a fine Market have brought,   

XVI.  
Had we drank at the Chequer, no Physic could bar us  
From Death, for how little, alas! 'twould avail us,  
To drink Wine in a House that looks so like an Alehouse?   

XVII. XVIII. XIX.  
So pale was the Rose, the Long-Dog out of Breath,  
And Duck-Wing had crowed himself almost to Death;  
That had we at either of these asked for Claret,  
Without question our wishes had quickly miscarried.   

XX.  
At the Sun we were loath for to moisten our Lips,  
For we plainly perceived she was then in Eclipse.   

XXI.  
At the sides of One Tun my Friend knocked for a Sign,  
But a hollow Voice answered, Puntack's not within.   

XXII.  
At the Bear when for Claret we asked the Drawcansir.  
Like the Sign he was Muzzled, and gave us no Answer.   

XXIII.  
When at the Half moon we observed the gay Sign,  
We expected to find no good Claret within;  
If the Wine be but good, let the Sign be a Rush,  
For the Learned agree that good Wine needs no Bush.   

XXIV.  
The Poets who with their Inventions so rack us,  
Yet assure us the Goat was acquainted with Bacchus;  
Yet the Goat in Strand had not Claret a Drop,  
For last Summer the Bacchinals drank it all up.   

XXV.  
At Po— ●s we thought some old Claret to try,  
But, alas! of that Liquor the Fountain was dry;  
For since he so lately was fined fifty Pound,  
For fetching up Bottles from Cellar profound;  
When obliged by the Law to Sell Wine in a Quart,  
We found him so fretful, so peevish and short;  
But 'twixt Humour and Purse is a Sympathy found,  
Our Humour's not well if our Purse is unsound.   

XXVI.  
How briskly the Feathers may look; yet we guest  
Their Claret (if any) was none of the best.   

XXVII.  
The Vine in the Strand, we observed was new Planted,  
And to find no good Claret there, took it for granted.   

XXVIII.  
The Doors of the Swan, some by order had closed 'em,  
ere since Abraham H—lls went to Abraham's Bosom.   

XXIX.  
When for Claret at Ca— ters, who lives at the Mitre,  
We asked, she admired we came there for to fright her,  
For she had not a Drop, or may Man ne'er Delight her.   

XXX.  
When at the Five Bells we would Ring a short Peal,  
We perceived by some token all things were not well;  
'Twould grieve a Man thence to receive a sad Fate,  
For if I am Poisoned it shall be in State.   

XXXI.  
At La— fords the Greyhound, to call we forbear it,  
He being better acquainted with Punch than with Claret.   

XXXII.  
At the White-Horse, so famed for the Consults and Plots,  
By Jesuits held, as was sworn by T. Oats,  
We called, but he told us he had not a Taste,  
For 'twas all on't drunk up at the Dorsetshire Feast.   

XXXIII.  
When we stepped in at Rof—s we heard such distraction,  
Of Singing and Gaming, and things sold by Auction,  
That the Tavern resembled a Wake or a Fair,  
And hating all noises did soon disappear.   

XXXIV.  
The Ship who of late Sprung a Leak in the Main,  
Is new Corked, Trimmed and Launched in the Ocean again;  
We hawld her and asked if she'd Claret Aboard,  
But the Captain and Ships Crew would not answer a word.   

XXXV.  
The last Tavern we came to, was that of the Rose;  
At the Door of which stood such a parcel of Beau's,  
Who in Eating and Drinking great Critics commence.  
And are Judges of every thing else but of Sense,  
When we saw'em makes Faces, and heard one or two Swear,  
That the Wine was the Devil they lately drank there;  
We relied on their word, and ne'er stepped o'er the Groundsil,  
But thought they spoke truth like General Council.   

Two days in this Search were away vainly thrown,  
And we both of us thinking to find none in Town;  
Then agreed with a nemine contradicente,  
That since Drinks of our English growth was so plenty;  
We all their Brewed Wines would not value a Rush,  
Nor shorten our days by respect to a Bush.   
FINIS.   

ADVERTISEMENT.  
IF any Vintner, Wine-cooper, etc. between White-chappel and Westminster-abby, have some Tuns or Hogs heads of Old, Rich Unadulterated Claret, and will sell it (as the Law directs) for six Pence a Quart: This is to give notice, he shall have more Customers than half his Profession; and his House be as full from Morning to Night as a Conventicle, or Westminster Hall the first day of the Term.