name of it was, Talk-on-the-Hill: I had not travelled above two miles farther: but my last night's supper (which was as much as nothing) my mind being informed of it by my stomach. I made a virtue of necessity, and went to breakfast in the Sun: I have fared better at three Suns many times before now, in Aldersgate Street, Cripplegate, and new Fish Street; but here is the odds, at those Suns they will come upon a man with a tavern bill as sharp cutting as a tailor's bill of items: a watchman's-bill, or a welsh-hook falls not half so heavy upon a man; besides, most of the vintners have the law in their own hands, and have all their actions, cases, bills of debt, and such reckonings tried at their own bars; from whence there is no appeal. But leaving these impertinences, in the material Sunshine, we eat a substantial dinner, and like miserable guests we did budget up the reversions.
And now with sleep my muse hath eased her brain
I'll turn my style from prose, to verse again.
That which we could not have, we freely spared,
And wanting drink, most soberly we fared.
We had great store of fowl (but 'twas foul way)
And kindly every step entreats me stay,
The clammy clay sometimes my heels would trip,
One foot went forward, the other back would slip,
This weary day, when I had almost past,
I came unto Sir Urian Leigh's at last,
