Is one that hath learnt to speak well of himself, for always he names
himself "the first man." If he had betaken himself to some richer trade,
he could not have choosed but done well; for in this, though a mean one,
he is still plying it, and putting himself forward. He is evermore
telling strange news, most commonly lies. If he be a sculler, ask him if
he be married: he'll equivocate, and swear he's a single man. Little
trust is to be given to him, for he thinks that day he does best when he
fetches most men over. His daily labour teaches him the art of
dissembling, for, like a fellow that rides to the pillory, he goes not
that way he looks. He keeps such a bawling at Westminster, that, if the
lawyers were not acquainted with it, an order would be taken with him.
When he is upon the water he is fair company; when he comes ashore he
mutinies, and, contrary to all other trades, is most surly to gentlemen
when they tender payment. The playhouses only keep him sober, and, as it
doth many other gallants, make him an afternoon's man. London Bridge is
the most terrible eyesore to him that can be. And, to conclude, nothing
but a great press makes him fly from the river, nor anything but a great
frost can teach him any good manners.