And shews Mount Scoundrel [127] for a charming Place:
You stand astonish'd at the darken'd Hole,
Sighing, the Lord have Mercy on my Soul!
And ask, have you no other Rooms, Sir, pray?
Perhaps enquire what Rent too, you're to pay:
Entreating that he wou'd a better seek;
The Rent (cries gruffly's)—Half a Crown a Week.
The Rooms have all a Price, some good, some bad;
But pleasant ones at present can't be had:
}This Room, in my Opinion's not amiss;