Six-pence.--But
when he came down, the Bawd ask'd him how he lik'd his Country-Woman, and
whether she had pleas'd him? _Fait and Trot now, dear Joy_, says he, _I
have made very good like upon her; the Devil confound-ye, but she's a foin
Lass and a Cuttin-down-lass: And I have maud pay a whole half Shilling for
her Business_; and so he was a going out of door; but the Bawd Pulling him
by the Coat, Hold Sir, says she, Do you think I can keep Wenches at this
rate? _Bridget_, says she, what did this man do, and what did he give you?
He did what he wou'd, answer'd the Whore; he danc'd the Corranto's two or
three times; and might have done it oftner if he wou'd: But he gave me but
Sixpence: How Wench, says the old Bawd, but Sixpence! Why who shall pay the
rest? I thought Sir you wou'd have been more open-handed, I sell no
Coranto's at such rates. Five Shillings is the lowest Price I take of any;
and that you are like to give me before you and I part; and so shut the
Door upon him. Poor _Teague_ found he was in a bad condition; and was glad
to part with his Money, that he might get out of her Clutches. And instead
of carrying home his Masters Shoes, he was forc'd to tell his Master he had
gotten a Misfortune, and some Rogue or other had made pick upon his pocket:
but his Master not being Satisfied with that account, examin'd into the
matter more narrowly, and at last found out the whole Truth; and striping
the Dear Joy of his new Livery, turn'd him out of his Service, that he
might have the more leisure to make another Visit to his Country-woman. But
alas! He had no need to Visit her again, for she had done his Business
already, having so pepper'd him with the Pox, that in a little time he was
neither able to go nor stand. And not having Money to pay for his Cure, he
perish'd for want of that assistance that others, who are better furnished,
can purchase.

_Thus still the Bawd drives on her Trade of Sin;_
_By whom unthinking Fools are often drawn in_
_Her Feet are Snares, infectious is her Breath;_
_The Pox her Punishment, her end is Death._

* * * * *

CHAP. VI.

_Of a Ladies Steward that was drawn in by a Bawd, and turn'd out into
the Street naked._

A Bawd of the better sort, that us'd to provide Jilts for Men of figure,
had appointed a Person of Quality whom she was to furnish with a fresh Bit,
to meet her at a certain Tavern near _West-Smithfield_; and waiting there
for