Here all go daily dressed, although it be
Above their means, their rank, and quality;
The most in borrowed gallantry are clad,
For which the tradesmen's books are still unpaid;
This fault is common in the meaner sort,
That they must needs affect to bear the port
Of gentlemen, though they want income for't.
’Sir, to be short, in this expensive town
There's nothing without money to be done;
What will you give to be admitted there,
And brought to speech of some court minister?
What will you give to have the quarter-face,
The squint and nodding go-by of his Grace?
His porter, groom, and steward must have fees,
And you may see the Tombs, and Tower for less.
Hard fate of suitors! who must pay, and pray
To livery-slaves, yet oft go scorned away.
'Whoe'er at Barnet, or St. Albans, fears
To have his lodging drop about his ears,
Unless a sudden hurricane befal.
Or such a wind as blew old Noll to hell?
Here we build slight, what scarce outlasts the lease,
Without the help of props and buttresses;
And houses now-a-days as much require
To be ensured from falling, as from fire.
There, buildings are substantial, though less neat,
And kept with care both wind and water tight;
There, you in safe security are blessed,
And nought, but conscience, to disturb your rest.[1]
'I am for living where no fires affright,
No bells rung backward break my sleep at night;
- ↑ It appears from this passage that, although London was considerably improved by the widening of the streets when it was rebuilt after the fire, the new houses were slight and unsubstantial. They had the advantage, however, of being built of more durable materials than those they displaced. Stone and brick were first introduced by Alfred the Great, but were not generally adopted for many ages after.
