At half-past ten, precisely to a second,-- Shove, every night, his supper ended; And sipp'd his glass of negus, till he reckon'd, By his stop-watch, exactly, one more quarter; Then, as exactly, he untied one garter;-- A token 'twas that he for bed intended: Yet having, still, a quarter good before him, He leisurely undress'd before the fire; Contriving, as the quarter did expire, To be as naked as his mother bore him: Bating his shirt, and night-cap on his head;-- Then, as the watchman bawl'd eleven, He had one foot in bed, More certainly than cuckolds go to Heaven. Alas! what pity 'tis that regularity, Like Isaac Shove's, is such a rarity! But there are swilling Wights, in London town, Term'd--Jolly dogs,--Choice Spirits,--_alias_, Swine, Who pour, in midnight revel, bumpers down, Making their throats a thoroughfare for wine. These spendthrifts, who Life's pleasures, thus, out-run, Dozing, with head-aches, till the afternoon, Lose half men's regular estate of Sun, By borrowing, too largely, of the Moon. One of this kidney,--Toby Tosspot hight,-- Was coming from the Bedford, late at night: And being _Bacchi plenus_,--full of wine,-- Although he had a tolerable notion Of aiming at progressive motion, 'Twasn't direct,--'twas serpentine, He work'd, with sinuosities, along, Like Monsieur Corkscrew worming thro' a Cork; Not straight, like Corkscrew's proxy, stiff Don Prong, A Fork. At length, with near four bottles in his pate, He saw the moon shining on Shove's brass plate; When reading, "Please to ring the bell," And being civil, beyond measure, "Ring it!"--says Toby--"very well; I'll ring it with a deal of pleasure." Toby, the kindest soul in all the town, Gave it a jerk that almost jerk'd it down. He waited full two minutes; no one came; He waited full two minutes more; and then,-- Says Toby, "if he's deaf, I'm not to blame; I'll pull it for the gentleman again." But the first peal woke Isaac in a fright, Who, quick as lightning, popping up his head, Sat on his head's _Antipodes_, in bed,-- Pale as a parsnip,--bolt upright. At length he, wisely, to himself did say,-- Calming his fears,-- "Tush!--'tis some fool has rung, and run away;"-- When peal the second rattle'd in his ears! Shove jump'd into the middle of the floor; And, trembling at each breath of air that stirr'd, He grope'd down stairs, and open'd the street door, While Toby was performing peal the third. Isaac eye'd Toby, fearfully askant,-- And saw he was a strapper,--stout, and tall; Then, put this question;--"Pray, Sir, what d'ye want?" Says Toby,--"I want nothing, Sir, at all."