Saint Hillaries teares, shed upon all professions, from the iudge to the petty fogger, from the spruce dames of the exchange, to the durty walking fishmongers, from the Coven-Garden lady of iniquity, to the Turnebal-Streete-trull, and indeed, from the Tower-stairs to Westminster-Ferry, for want of a stirring midsomer terme, this yeare of disasters, 1642 written by one of his secretaries that had nothing else to do.