Oft in your clothier’s and your grazier’s inn, You shall have chamberlains that there have been Plac’d purposely by thieves, or else consenting By their large bribes, and by their often tempting, That mark your purses drawn, and give a guess What’s there, within a little, more or less. Then will they grip your cloak-bags, feel their weight: There’s likewise in mine host sometimes deceit: If it be left in charge with him all night, Unto his roaring guests he gives a light, Who spend full thrice as much in wine and beer As you in those and all your other cheer. But the classic and most outstanding literary reference to these dark features of old-time innkeeping is found in Shakespeare, in the First Part of _King Henry the Fourth_. The scene is Rochester: an inn yard. Enter a carrier, with a lantern in his hand, in the hours before daybreak. _1 Car._ Heigh ho! An’t be not four by the day, I’ll be hanged: Charles’ wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not packed. What, ostler! _Ost._ [_Within._] Anon, anon. _1 Car._ I pr’ythee, Tom, beat Cut’s saddle, put a few flocks in the point; the poor jade is wrung in the withers out of all cess. _Enter another_ Carrier. _2 Car._ Pease and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this house is turned upside down, since Robin ostler died. _1 Car._ Poor fellow! never joyed since the price of oats rose; it was the death of him. _2 Car._ I think this be the most villainous house in all London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench. _1 Car._ Like a tench? by the mass, there is ne’er a king in Christendom could be better bit than I have been since the first cock. _2 Car._ Why, they will allow us ne’er a jordan, and then we leak in your chimney; and your chamber lie breeds fleas like a loach. _1 Car._ What, ostler! come away, and be hanged, come away. _2 Car._ I have a gammon of bacon, and two razes of ginger, to be delivered as far as Charing-cross. _1 Car._ Odsbody! the turkies in my pannier are quite starved.--What, ostler!--A plague on thee! hast thou never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An ’twere not as good a deed as drink, to break the pate of thee, I am a very villain.--Come, and be hanged:--Hast no faith in thee? _Enter_ Gadshill. _Gads._ Good morrow, carriers. What’s o’clock? _1 Car._ I think it be two o’clock. _Gads._ I pr’ythee, lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding in the stable. _1 Car._ Nay, soft, I pray ye; I know a trick worth two of that, i’faith. _Gads._ I pr’ythee, lend me thine. _2 Car._ Ay, when? canst tell?--Lend me thy lantern, quoth a?--marry, I’ll see thee hanged first. _Gads._ Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?