Immediately after my arrival in this place, the Itch and _Bunniah_, or Flux, (the two grand Epidemical distempers of _Ireland_) gave me their wellcome into their Country, attended by a great number of six-footed Gent. clad in a gray livery, with one single list down the back; who all promised to stick to me & be my bosome-friends, neither would they forsake me as long as life lasted. But they like the rest of the best and fairest promising friends left me, when fortune committed me prisoner to the merciless cruel hands of that accursed Gaoler, Poverty. I was grown so lean, that the Mungril _Scotch_ & _Irish_ Gentleman the Itch, finding not flesh enough to feed on, gave me the _French_ Complement, _Adieu pouvre Gentilhome_. The Flux staid with me as long as any thing was left in my belly, but finding no substance from my Guts, took his leave also, unkindly carrying away all that was within me. Their retinue perceiving they were like to feed on hard meat, there being little left but bones, whose teeth were incapable of fastning thereon, resolv’d to follow after; some making more than ordinary haste, broke their necks off the Cape of my Cloak, missing their footing, the threads thereof being spun out as time as fine as those of _Arachnes_ working. To conclude, I was a mere walking _Skeleton_, my skin only serv’d as a mantle for my bones. But for wind, my belly would have contradicted an approved Philosophical Axiome, proving a _Vacuum_. One time passing by the Castle-gate, a Souldier fir’d his Musquet, and I protest methought my belly sounded like a Drum at the report. Should I relate every particular wherein the malevolencie of Fortune afflicted me, I should much tire the Reader, as well as perplex my self with remembrance; wherefore I shall desist, and give you leave to imagine the deplorableness of his condition, who hath neither Monies, Friends, nor Credit, and in a place where he is neither acquainted with the people nor their Language. CHAP. XXVI. _He falling accidentally into a strange house, endeavours to build a Sconce, but is frustrated of his intent. The old Hostess pities him at first, and relieves him, and continually after feeds him for her own peculiar Diet; further insisting on the misery he then endured._