A while content the common Road they trod,
'Till some great Act at last confess the God.
Now Painters work,—and dine, that starv'd before,
And Tallymen supply each needy Whore—
Fam'd Covent-Garden droops with mournful Look,
Nor can St. James's her great Rival brook:
Each Duck and D——ss, quacks to different Tunes,
One claps her Wings for Love, the other swoons;
Each Vintner storms and swears he is undone,
Vollies of Oaths speak loud the Drawer's Moan;