A DIALOGUE BETWEEN TWO PORTERS, Upon Dr. O——— s's removing from Whitehall into the City.  
ROBIN and NICK.  R. 
HOw now, Nick, art thou there? Art thou to be my Partner in removing the Doctor's matters and businesses.  N. 
So it seems, Robin; He sent one of his Lifeguard for me to day, before I could get out of Bed.  R. 
Ay, thou mayst see what it is to lie lazing so long in Bed in a morning; for if thou hadst come but never so little sooner, thou mightst have had thy morning's drink here on Free cost.  N. 
Prithee how so?  R. 
Why, Sir, I went yonder to the next Shop, to fetch this Cord, to cord that Box of— God knows what; and when the Master of the Shop asked me who it was for, and I said for Dr. O—, God a mercy for that, honest Porter, (says he;) Is it come to that? Here take the Money again; present my Service to the Doctor, and tell him, He shall never want for a Cord, as long as I have one in the Shop.  N. 
And prithee what said the Doctor to that?  R. 
Why, you Coxcomb, I never told him a word on't; but went directly to Wills and he and I drank the Shilling that was to pay for't.  N. 
That Shopkeeper was some Rogue of a Tory, I'll lay my Life on't; But prithee what do people say concerning the Doctor's removing?  R. 
Why faith, to tell thee the truth, so many men so many minds, I think; Some say this, and some say that; but God knows who's i'th' right on't. Some say the Air at Whitehall does not agree with him; and the Physicians think it is because he was never brought up in't.  N. 
That may very well be; for ever since he has been there (some curious Obsenvers say) he has been declining; especially since his last Journey to Oxford, where 'tis feared he did himself not good.  R. 
There are some that think he removed that he might be a little nearer Richard's Coffeehouse, or that he might with less time and trouble visit my Lord S S —y and my Lord H— d; and if by chance it should come to his own fortune to be sent to the Tower too, he would be so far on his way.  N. 
Alas! Alas! Robin, dost thou think it will ever come to that? Were it not a sad thing, thinkest thou, that the Goose which saved the Capitol should be first fed fat, and then roasted?  R. 
Ay, why should she not, if she had no more wit but to be catched in the Corn afterwards? But there are others, I must tell you, that attribute it to his natural inclination and disposition to change; Others, that think it was because there was more need of Counsel in the City than at Court; and that his words would have more weight among the Petitioning-Apprentices than among the Peers of the Kingdom.  N. 
Why truly, I confess such a man as he is extremely wanted in the City, to compose their heats, and make a mutual right understanding among I is Majesty's Loyal-Apprentice-Subjects and the Tory-Party; for they never stood in more need of a Tutor.  R. 
There are others yet believe it was none of his own voluntary act; but that the Higher Powers, considering the continual Complaints against Favourites and Pensioners, c'en took away his Salary, and showed him the Gate, to please the people.  N. 
I like that last key to the story very well, for though (as you know my Principles) I love Dr. O—; yet I hate he should be a Pensioner.  R. 
Some tell us, that at Whitehall there was such a continual noise and do, that he had scarce the quiet and leisure to moke a Sermon that had neither Nonsense or somewhat worse in it; and that was so much taken notice of, that Care's Lying Rogue (that illnatured Observator) could not forbear speaking of it.  N. 
Now you talk of the Observator; what do you think he'll say of this? And then those Mad Fellow there, what do ye call 'em, Raclitus and Ridens, that lay their Heads together (folk say) to make Sport, what work shall we have with them this Week? But I hope the Rogues will Laugh themselves into a ●it of the Spleen, and die like those men that Sawey Jack the Seaman used to Talk of, that were Bitten by the Tarantula's; or else the Brethren shall never have one quiet Hour this nine Heeks to come.  R. 
But what wouldst thou say now if all these Conjecturs fall short of a real Truth, and the Doctor's Deserts; for I'll assure thee I saw some Brave Gentlemen Whisper, and Point at him as he went out, but God knows what they said: And who can tell but they may be mistaken too? For the Doctor's whole Life has been a Riddle, and almost as fatal as the Riddle of Sphingibus, that our Parson was talking of last Sunday but one; for I'll assure you it has cost some Heads as well as that did.  N. 
Peace man, for fear of being Overheard; for without doubt these are not Matters for Porters handling: All that I am thinking is this, that if the Poor Doctor should have no better Luck among the Citizens than he has had among the Courtiers he may even retreat and march off, but God knows whither; except it be to Geneva, for (the more pity) he has already banished himself out of the greatest part of Christendom.  R. 
Come, come, I would advise him to Troop off, and make no noise; for I do not believe, that though he should stay here as long as the Sun and Moon, he could ever recover some men's good Opinion.  N. 
Some men's good Opinion sayest thou; What needs he care for some men's good Opinion? As long as he stands fair with the City and the Godly Party, no matter what all the world besides says.  R. 
I am not altogether of that persuasion; for both the City and the Godly Party are but uncertain Friends, (as you know who found them) when they come to the test; and run away from the miserable, as men do from the Plague, or as Rats they say do from a falling House.  N. 
Who dost thou think then shall maintain the Doctor? For the man must not starve.  R. 
Must not starve, (quoth he,) but he must, except he can get Victuals; and (to tell you plainly) I cannot see whence it should come. The Papists are very charitable people, but they have done their parts to him already they say. The fanatics are not certain (as one said in another case) that he is theirs. And the Church of England utterly disclaims him, for abusing his Mother, and calling her names. I was somewhere t'other day, where two or three Gentlemen were talking of the Doctor; and one that sat by told them he thought the Doctor was a good Son of the Church; He a Son of the Church, (says another) he a Son of a— Weaver; and then they fell all a laughing.  N. 
So then, it seems you think there's no other way for him, but to be gone; But is it not as good for him to stay here and starve, (like Jane Shore) as cross the Sea (like Woodcocks) only to be knocked o'th' head. For my part, if I were in his case, I should even tie the fatal knot myself, and defy my ●ate.  R. 
Bravely spoken indeed, but that's the way to go directly to the Devil (God bless us.) Now I am so much a wellwisher to the Doctor, that I had rather see him live to repent, and then with a great deal of satisfaction, both to himself and every body else, die like a good Christian, by his hands that preferred Coleman, and Sainted the Jesuits.  N. 
Thou art a bitter Fellow, and methinks much sitter for a Porter than a Judge; and therefore prithee lift there, and let's be gone.   

LONDON: Printed for A. Banks, 1681.