Poor Robin's CHARACTER, Of an Honest Drunken Cur: With a Relation of the Frolics of his Life, and Conversation AND HIS EPITAPH.  
With Permission.  
London, Printed by E. C. for C. Hussey, at the Bible in jewen street. 1675.   

Poor Robin's CHARACTER, Of an Honest Drunken Cur.  
HE's a Pickled Youth to be sure, for he always lies steeped in his own Liquor; of which like a Whale, he carries so much about him, that when ever he Disgorges, he may Swim away in his own Flood. Clap but a good Sucker into his Belly, and he makes an excellent Parish Pump: and if you add but a Pipe to his Muzzle, he may pass for a Water Engine, and do good service in time of Fire; you need not fear Drawing him dry, so long as all the Alehouses, and Taverns in Town, like little Rivulets, supply the decrease; He contains about as much as those in Churches; but is so uncooth a Trough, he's twice as hard to be Gauged: yet by frequent experience, he can guests his Measure to a Pint, specially if you except Leakage: His Veins are so thronged, and his Blood so tainted with Scurvy, Gout, and Dropsy, (and a smatch of the Frenchman to boot, which he got when he was Drunk, and does not know who to lay it too.) That he defies the intrusion of any other Distemper: wherefore he Stalks in as much State through a Pestilence; as a well Armed Soldier through a shower of Bullets, for his forementioned Diseases have taken such large Possession of his Body, that there's no room left for Infection.  
He has drunk himself into a Jelly, and is so moist, that if you squeeze him, he drops like an Orange.  
His Body a perfect Still, which he Fuells with Brandy, instead of Char-coal; being throughly heated, you may discern the sweaty distillation trickle from his face, as from the Lid of a Limbick, and if any chance to drop on his Nose, you may hear it hiz as if it fell upon heated Bricks. In fine though he always lives Joakingly and Merry, he hates nothing more than a dry Jest.  
Thus having acquainted you with his Constitution, I shall only consider him in his Conversation, and Friendship, and so leave him to sleep out his nap.  
And first for his Conversation, to take him in the Morning (for who can find him all the Day after) he prevents his Prayers with a Pipe of Tobacco, and Smokes at such a Rate as if he pr●fer'd Sacrifice to Devotion. A Tinderbox is as necessary to him, as a green Bag to an Atturney's Clerk, with which he seems as ravished as Alexander with the Odisses, for he cannot sleep unless it lie under his Pillow. In that little night he makes, he cannot so properly said to sleep, as to chew the Cudd 〈…〉 often disturbs the repose of a Family, with Muttering a Repetition of his Oaths, and Healths when he awakes, he stairs about with such wild Curiosity, as one would fancy Adam did immediately after his Creation; for he generally makes himself so Drunk over Night, drowning his past actions in Liquor and Oblivion, that he scarcely knows the Morning from the Resurrection, and is hardly persuaded that ever he lived before.  
But after he is convineed of the affirmative spends about a quarter of an Hour in examining the Bedposts and Windows, before he discovers whether he be in his own Lodging: And afterward remains as doubtful how he got thither.  
Then Bedstaffs, and Slip-shoo's go to Wrack, for clattering on the Bedstead, like Boys at the Bear-Garden; he calls up the People as Country Wenches do Swine, by knocking; and after a Petition for a Cup of Settle-Brain, begs them to resolve his Quaerie: Whereupon they tell him the truth, which indeed is that either he came the old Porterly way, Crutched with a brace of Watchmen; or else the Modern and more Genteel way, viz. On Pick-pack, instead of a Sadan.  
Now although my Honest Drunken Cur be guilty of many Vices, which like Younger Brothers hang on this great one which has got possession: Yet (Give the Devil his ave) I think the World has Sullied his Reputation with divers Scandals of which he is no wise Guilty: Wherefore because I only intent his Conversion not his Consumption; Like an honest Historian (since I Write his Life) I ought not to see him wronged, but rather to rescue him from those C 〈…〉 on him 〈…〉  
The first imputation therefore that they impose on him is that he is proud, And why forsooth? but because when he has a D 〈…〉 op in his Eye, he brags and vapours as if he were a better man than his Neighbours. A stout reason indeed? as if any man might not do as much that were either Lightheaded, or in a Fever; Nay, a Passion alone makes the wisest of us Bethlehems. But let us do as we would be done by, and take him when he is himself, (that is in a Morning,) and then I am sure he is as free from Pride, as a Quaker from good Minners or Ribbons: For would Custom admit, I am confident he would never go to the Alehouse Naked, than undergo the hard Penance of Sobriety the while he dresses himself.  
Secondly, They call him an Idle fellow; a good fellow all the World knows he is, but as for Idleness, let me die if I know any one more free from it than he; What would they know of him trow? he rises early, sits up late; and I dare Swear he grudges himself his very Sleep, because it keeps him from his Business: When he is at it, no man more expeditious than he, for as if his minutes, like his Estate, ran away too fast, you shall frequently see him with an Ale-Glass in one hand, and a Looking-Glass in the other, which betokens both speed and frugality.  
The third and most fallacious Accusation is that they say, He's Prodigal, and Pisses his Estate against the Wall. But I am confident he enriches nor Perfumes the Walls no more than others; only this I know he does, that whereas Usurers use to hide their Riches in Earth Pots, he puts his Estate in a Pewter one (which one would think were the safer Cabinet) so that it is not the Honest Drunken Cur, but the Impudent Rogues, Drawers, and Tapsters, that imbezle and make it away.  
Much more might be said of him both in his Vindication, and in Commendation also: For he is one of the quietest Subjects his Majesty has, and most submissive to Monarchyal Government: He would not be without a King, if it were for no other Reason than merely Drinking his Health. He hates Coffee as Mahomatizm, and thinks it a Lesser sin to go to Bed Drunk, than to Drink it to make him Sober.  
He hates a Studious man as Caeser did a Lean one, and for the same Reason, for he is so confident he's hatching of Treason, that he could find in his Heart to impeach him at adventure.  
As for his Friends he never troubles his Head to pick and cull them, but takes them as superannuated Maids do Husbands, or Fish-women do Mackerel, as they come next to hand: For fixing himself in the next Alehouse or Tavern he comes at; at first he sits as sullenly as a degraded Courtier, or an Insurer upon Advice of a Loss▪ And no less than a Quart of Purle-Royal, or Two Kicks in the Guts can remove his Morosity. After he has digested either of them, perchance he'll vouchsafe to bless you with a Smile, especially if you will purchase it at the expense of a Bawdy Song; to which you shall see him turn head, and listen as heedfully as a Lynnet to a Flaijolet, but infinitely more easy to be Taught.  
When you have done, 'tis twenty to one but he comes and hugs you; swearing you are the most accomplished Gentleman that ever he met in his Life; and though he never saw you before, from that time you may date his Friendship: He makes Friends faster than Children do Babies; and like them too, he often forgets where he has left them.  
His Reason like a bad Shopkeeper is seldom at home, or rather like a Country Gentleman, has left the Manor of his own Body; and is gone to dwell in strange Lodgings: So that 'tis no wonder, he's Hobgoblined by his fiery Nose to any Debauchery, or that Men call him Beast; since by giving Rains to his I Sensuality, he makes so perfect a Swine of himself, that he Drinks till he can hardly Grunt. However, since the Church allows him Christian Burial, I'll Hopkins and Sternhold him with   

An Epitaph.  
Here Lies Drunken Tom,  
Whom Heaven in mercy save,  
He stumbeled o'er his Death,  
And reeled into his Grave.   
FINIS.