Londons Ordinarie,
Or every man in his humour.
To a pleasant new Tune.
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THrough the Royall Exchainge as I walked,
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Where Gallants in sattin doe shine:
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At midst of the day they parted away
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To seaverall places to dine.
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The Gentrie went to the Kings head,
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The Nobls unto the Crowne:
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The Knights went to the Golden Fleece,
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And the Plough men to the Clowne.
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The Cleargie will dine at the Miter,
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The Vintners at the three Tunnes:
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The Usurers to the Devill will goe
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And the Fryers to the Nunnes.
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The Ladyes will dine at the Feathers
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The Globe no Captaine will scorne:
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The Hunts men will goe to the Gray hound be-low
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And some Townes men to the Horne.
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The Plummers will dine at the Fountaine,
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The Cookes at the holly Lambe:
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The Drunkerds by noone to the Man in the Moon,
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And the Cuckolds to the Ramme.
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The Roarers will dine at the Lyon.
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The Water men at the old Swan:
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And Bawdes will to the Negro goe,
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And Whores to the naked Man.
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The Keepers will to the white Hart,
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The Marchants unto thn Shippe:
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The Beggers they must take their way
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To the Egge shell and the Whippe.
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The Farryers will to the Horse,
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The Blacke smith unto the Locke:
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The Butchers unto the Bull will goe
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And the Carmen to Bridewll docke.
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The Fish mongers unto the Dolphin,
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The Barbers to the Cheat loafe:
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The Turners unto the Ladle will goe
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Where they may merrily quaffe.
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The Taylors will dine at the Sheeres,
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The Shooe makers will to the Boote:
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The Welshmen they will take their way
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And dine at the signe of the Gote.
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The Second part. To the same Tune.
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THe Hosiers will dine at the Legge,
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The drapers at the signe of the Brush:
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The Fletchers to Rodin hood will goe
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And the Spendthrift to Beggers Bush:
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The Pewterers to the Quarte pot,
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The Coopers will dine at the Hoope:
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The Coblers to the Last will goe
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And the Barge men to the Scoope.
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The Carpenters will to the Axe,
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The Coliers will dine at the Sacke:
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Your Fruterer he to the Cherry tree
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Good fellowes no liquor will lacke.
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The Gold smith will to the three Cups,
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For money they hold it as drosse:
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Your Puritan to the Pewter can
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And your Papists to the Crosse.
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The Weavers will dine at the Shuttele,
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The Glovers will unto the Glove:
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The Maydens all to the Mayden head
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And true Lovers unto the Dove.
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The Sadlers will dine at the Saddle,
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The Painters will to the greene Dragon:
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The Dutchmen will goe to the Froe,
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Where each man will drinke his Flagon.
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The Chandlers will dine at the Skales,
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The Salters at the signe of the Bagge:
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The Porters take paine at the Labour in vaine
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And the Horse courser to the white Nagge.
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Thus every man in his humour,
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That comes from the North or the South:
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But he that hath no money in his purse,
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May dine at the sine of the Mouth,
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The Swaggerers will dine at the Fencers,
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But those that have lost their wits:
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With Bedlam Tom let that be their home,
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And the Drumme the drummers best fits.
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The Cheter will dine at the Checker,
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The Picke pockets in a blind Ale house:
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Tel on and tride then up Holborne they ride
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And they their end at the Gallowes.
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