The works of Mr. Thomas Brown, serious and comical : in prose and verse, with his remains in four volumes compleat; vol. IIBrown, Thomas
General
The works of Mr. Thomas Brown, serious and comical : in prose and verse, with his remains in four volumes compleat; vol. II
Brown, Thomas
English wit and humor -- Early works to 1800; Erotic literature -- Early works to 1800; Latin literature -- Translations into English
for lodging, diet, washing, cloaths, linen, physick, _&c._ you owe me
ten pounds, (which came up within a few transitory shillings of what I
had earned in her house) and this you must pay, sweetheart, before you
talk of parting. ’Twas in vain to complain of her extortion, for besides
that she pleaded perscription for it, her arithmetick was infallible,
and she judg’d for her self _en dernier ressort_. Thus I was turn’d out
of doors, but having in the interim, while I stay’d here, contracted a
small acquaintance with a sister of the quill that lodg’d in
_Covent-Garden_, I repaired to her quarters, and continu’d with her.
Between us, my lord, we acted the story of _Castor_ and _Pollux_, that
is, we were never visible together, but when she appeared above the
horizon, ’twas bed-time with me; and when she kept her bed, ’twas my
time to shine at the play-house. When either of us went abroad, we made
a fine show enough, but then we gratify’d our backs at the expence of
our bellies; cow-heel, tripe, a few eggs, or sprats, were our constant
regale at home, and upon holidays a chop of mutton roasted upon a
packthread in the chimney; and many a time when my sister and I wore
silver-lac’d shoes our stockings wanted feet. I should trespass too much
upon your lordship’s patience, to tell you how I have been forc’d to
shift my name as well as my quarters, to submit to the nauseous embraces
of every drunken tobacco-taking sot, that had half a crown in his pocket
to purchase me; and when I have been arrested for a milk-score not
exceeding the terrible sum of four shillings, to let an ill-look’d dog
of a _Moabite_ enjoy me upon a founder’d chair in a spunging-house to
procure my liberty. To this I should add, what unmerciful contributions
I was forc’d out of my small revenue to pay to the conniving justices
clerks, the constable, the beadle, the tallyman, but especially to those
rascals the _Reformers_, whose business is not to convert, but only lay
a heavier tax upon poor sinners, and make iniquity shift its habitation
oftener than otherwise it would, I should never have done. In short, our
condition, my lord is like a frontier people that live between two
mighty monarchies, oppress’d, squeez’d, and plunder’d on all sides. By
that time I was one and twenty, I could number more diseases than years,
smoak and swear like a grenadier; and last _Bartholomew fair_, having
made a debauch in stumm’d claret and Dr. _Stevens_’s water, with an
attorney’s clerk, a fever seiz’d me next morning, and tript up my heels
in three days. How I was buried, that is to say, whether by the
contributions of the sister-hood or at the charge of the parish, I
cannot tell; but this, my lord, is a short and faithful account of my
life, and now I submit myself to the justice of this honourable court. I
will not pretend to vindicate my profession, but this I may venture to
affirm, that the world cannot live without us, and that a whore in the
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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