FAIR PLAY In the LOTTERY, OR Mirth for Money.
In several witty passages and conceits of Persons that came to the Lottery.
Represented by way of Droll
By E F. Gent.
Printed by H. Brugis at the Signe of the Sir Iohn Oldcastle in Pye-Corner.
TO THE Right Worshipful and Ingenious, Sir EDWARD FORD Knight, the Author wishes much health and happiness.
Honoured Sir,
THe many favours that I have of late received from you, has very much induced me for to present my few Observations unto your knowing view. I must confess they are not worthy Your serious speculation, being but a little Drollery of some sorts of people at your Lottery: In a word Sir, if you please for once to Patronize this little piece, if e're a better bud spring up to my hand, the whole Stock is yours, Root and Branch, in the interim I take leave to remain,
Your affectionate and assured Servant to command EDWARD FORD.
On Lotteries.
LOtteries or Chances, chances here below,
Are too too frequent, yet men desire to know
Something on that account, to signifie,
Being mutual here, their mutability:
And thus in order every man does crave
Something, that's changing to his very grave,
That work being done, no doubt he doth surmise
Blanks stand for nought, tis faith that gets the prize.
On a Gentlewoman with child, that long'd to draw a peice of plate and could not.
VVHen Ladies long for Plate that is obscure,
And very fairly ventures, yet not sure;
Who knowes the Babe within her may confess
And weep in secret for her sad success.
Alas! the little Infant never saw
The Plate she wisht, and had a mind to draw,
And yet by consequence this drawn may be,
She long'd for somthing in the Lottery,
Lady I pitty you, because your lot
Seem'd for to frown which wo'd have smil'd being got
That Lotteries cruel for to make him rue
You lost your p [...]ise and wrong'd your infant too
Yet Mistriss don't dispond it is not known
How soon bad fortune may be overthrown,
For though the lott into the lap is cast
The Bason and Ure may be yours at last.
Of a blind Maid that came to see the Lotteryr.
SHe was pretty merry though of a mean ranck
For she did laugh to hear she had a blank,
Her fortune being hard she would not stay,
She came in blind, and so she went away.
It was a blind come off well met saith she,
Fortnne's as blind as I, I plainly see.
On a handsome Sempstris that came to the Lottery to put in her White hand into the Box
VVHat do you grope for Mistress, why entice
With such a tempting hand Fortune the
Shee's coy and skittish, will not, cannot stand
And though you stroke her will not come to hand, nice,
Your powerful touch that all flesh can allure
Cannot tempt down a Spoon much less the Ure,
Forbear, you Tarnish all the Plate we shew,
It all seems copper to your brighter hue.
The beauteous lustre that enchants the eyes
And makes their Purses not our Plate the Prize
Loses its charming look while all admire
And who, that fairer better shew enquire.
But Fortune would not sully that fair sight
A blank was drawn and so twas white to white.
Nothing but blanks she drew, in my opinion
'Twas a friend of mine one Mistress B—
Of one that got a Silver Tankerd.
A Gentlewoman, whose fortune did abound
Made her to prize for joy her happy state
And all her wishes for the present crownd
Obtaining such a handsome piece of plate,
Comely she was as most is in the town
Though at a blush she look't a little Brown.
Of one that murmured at his hard misfortune.
BUt one being angry as it did appear
His fortune was not good at that same time
Paper he did protest was very dear
Or else 'twas made of rags was very fine,
And told his neighbour in a murmuring speech
He had not Paper enough, to wipe his breech.
On a Cook that came to the Lottery.
SOon after this coms in a jovial Cook,
And he adventures very free and faire
He lives hard by Py-Corner, or Pasty nook,
As true a Trout as other Trojans are;
He lost his money, but wisht me hold my peace
Or else he vow'd to fret in his own grease.
On a humourous Gentelman that complained to a Lady what mony he had lost.
I vow sweet Lady, Fortune doth not advance
My fate at all, but sends me still ill chance,
A bove three pound dear Madam it has cost me
And still the blanks has play'd the fools & crost me,
Yet I will not despond, no more then brag
Harry go home, and fetch me tother bagg
And if I lose again and nothing get
Though I learn nothing it shall teach me wit.
On a poore Labourer that got two peices of plate for two shillings.
AMongst a sort of Sparks a Labourer comes
For to adventure as your gallants do
And hee's in hope for to pick up his crums
As in conclusion it prov'd very true,
His Fortune that was good, say what you please
He labour'd hard and yet got plate with ease
On a Lady that asked if there were ever a stew pot in the Lottery or no.
NO Madam sayes the Trumpet, yet ther's a Lot
Though not for stews, for this same Chamberpot.
On a Taylor that came to the Lotteriy.
BUt then a nimble Taylor he come in
And must have a dozen Lots, I that he must
He was as spruce we thought as he was trim
And ask't if we had faith enough to trust
T'was Answer'd that would do very well
For sometimes hee'd not trust a rag in Hell.
Of a merry Gentelman that lost some mony at the Lottery.
A pretty Gentelman and his indeared Bride
Came to the Lottery to sport a while
Only another Lady too beside,
Merry they seem'd to be for they did smile,
They ventur'd very fair for Cup or Bowl
Yet still they lost, and that was very foul,
When they had lost what they thought good themselves
The Gentelman did say that he wood send
(First looking merily upon the shelves)
For the plate he had won, by a Porter or a Frind,
The Porter came not as he did indent
And thereupon the plate was never sent.
On a Bailf that came to the Lottery.
COme on my boy give me as many lotts
As thou canst well afford for a mery Crowne,
Better spent here, then wasted upon sots,
If Fortune be not dogged, and too much frown
Pox on't, the'r blanks this 'tis to minde your pelf
I have often pincht others, and now I am pincht, my self.
On a merry Gentleman and his Lady that came to the Lottery.
LAd, some lots, pox on your drilling way
You are no Cheats, what are you then I pray?
I have had twenty now and never a prize
Take em you knave just where the Bason lyes
Tis not a peny matter for the Ure
For that lyes pretty safe I am very sure
Well done, lets see if there be nothing here
I will not venture a peny more this year.
Hetherto blanks prove they all, so we are sow'st
And may conclude Sweet Lady we are Choust
On a Whore that came to the Lottery.
COme on my boy, give mee a lot or two
If I get any thing Ile pay thee well
I get my mony light enough tis true,
And that my Neighbours if you aske, can tell;
Well done lad if there be written in't
Ile give 't a foole or have it put in print.
Of one that said the Lottery was a mere Cheate.
THere is a sort of rash and Childish elvs
That calls your Lotteries Cheats and cunning snaps
When tis well known that they do cheat themselves
The baite proceeding still from their own traps
Thers none compel'd to venture, is there pray?
Then who can help the thing, that will away.
But grant it be a Cheat, you'l grant this too
The world's a Cheat, then pray Sir what are you.
On an old Woman that came to the Lottery with Spectacles.
BUt then an antient Matron she comes in
In hope to be a gainer with the rest?
But to say truth, she lost and did not win:
Her Fortune being then, none of the best.
Her Spectacles did help her for to light
Her purse, as well as eyes that wanted sight.
On a Pickpocket that came to venture his mony at the Lottery
A pickpocket or own they call a foyle
Came to the Lottery and ventur'd half a peice
You must think he did not get it with much toyle;
So long as Crowds do stock, or any geese.
They all prove'd blanks which made him say in fine
This Trade is Cunninger by half then mine.
On an honest woman that won a Silver Flagon at the Lottery.
SWeet Mistris Walker, I must needs confess
I cannot chuse but much Congratulate
This happy Fortune, and thy good success,
In wininng such a handsome piece of plate,
I wish for thy sake it had been a better thing
Because I am sure th'art one that loves the King.
On a Cookes wife that did dream she won a peice of Plate
IT seems you dream't, you won a piece of plate
But when you waked found t'was no such thing
Then t'was your dream made you so fortunate
And to your sences did such solace bring.
Even so men dream here to get joy and blise
But when they wake, they find how true it is.
But Mistris pray suppose that I had dream't
I had gi'n you a sound, for that same Plate you got
And for my paines you gave me good content
Which love of yours ought not to be forgot.
But putting up my mony I did finde
Twas but a dream, I saw you not so kinde.
On a Player that came to the Lottery.
AN honest Player unto the Lottery came
And in a frolicke, ventur'd a Crown or two
Tis not a halfe peny matter for his name
Because there was no forme in't that I knew
He drank to me and setting down the glass
Said he had acted fare to play the asse.
A few Lines upon the breaking up of Sir Edward Fords Lottery at the Crown in Smithfield.
FOr whose good hap the Trumpet cheerfull sounds
And his success with joy and Triumph Crownes
And as promistuously ther's many a blank
Throwne in the box for one prize that is good
Even so of every sort degree and ranke
That comes with the world of flesh and blood.
This sad experience we have allwaies had
For one man that is good ther's twenty bad
The pretty Child that drawes to day his lots
Demonstrates innocently very Cleare
And those devided by a sort of sotts
That makes no use of what they see or hear,
O that by faith a Lottery drawn might be.
To do our souls good to eternity
On this consideration we should strive
For to get faith which is a glorious prize
And will no doubt kepe our poor souls alive
When other comforts perishes and dies
And in conclusion, Carefull to be found
Cloath'd with the weding garment and so Crownd.
On Jack Adams innocent of Clarkenwell
AHa look yonder Mamy, ther's a danty thing
If we had that two'd make us laugh and sing
Harke Mamy the Trumpit boes,
I'de venture a peny or a crooked pin
If I were sure to lose and not to win.
Mamy you must call to this great boy
Hear, he wonte let me a see this fine toy
Which me thinks finely shews
Own standing by, upon his words streigh swore
He never saw a fool at a Lottery before;
Another answered, Friend it is not so
There's none but fools come there for ought I know
On a drunckenman that came to venture his Mony at the Lottery
TRumpet I'de have you know that I am willing
To venture my mony as free as any man
Give me a lot old boy, and their's a shilling
I'le have the bason and Ure if I can
Yet having got a cup, it was his lot,
To have a blank, yet cal'd for tother Pot.
On a Merry Cobler living in Smithfeld
BUt then an honest Cobler my good Friend,
A great mind had to get a piece of plate
He lives in Smithfeld nere to Duck Lane end
So he might have it at an easy rate.
But being greev'd to see some lose in Plush,
One Bird i'th hand is still worth two i'th Bush.
At length with courage Hector like he came
And did desire a Lot might favor, who
Had put his genius in a noble frame.
Making him merry and his Neighbours too.
His Mony then being missing in his purse
For madness the next day, waxt worse and worse
Scorning their laughter, for one small peece,
Next day he comes and calls for more,
And then he lost a pretey handsome fleece
I think in Shillings twas some three or four
Although his daily labour is in Leather
He cannot yet bring both his ends together
E're frantick like, his fortune was so bad
He made a vow, to come there no more
And for a day or two was very sad
Which in a Welshman seem'd but very poor.
Yet still sayes e're the Lottery be past
Hee'l come and venture and win all at last.
On a poor man that came to the Lottery.
AT length a poor man comes amongst the rest
To venture a Shilling or two in hope to win
Though for my part I did bed him straight
Not for to do so, cause he look't so thin
In breif he lost, yet if you'l take my word
He had his Coyne again, of Sir Edward Ford.
On a Capt. that got two pieces of Plate for Twenty Shillings
ANd then a Captain he drew for a piece,
Two pieces of plate, both costly ones indeed
One he bestowed I think upon his Neece,
Still loving for to pleasure those that need.
He call'd for Sack which I guest very fine
He had a Caudle cup, and I a cup of wine.
Likewise a Lady living in this Towne,
For one five Shillings two handsome prizes drew
One as I take it was a bonny Crowne,
The other a Sugar box, both good and new.
And yet t'is like you'le say, in jesting sort
She had a Sugar box, but paid sweetly for't.
On a Sparke
I like your Gallant Sparks, that now and then
Ventures his mony at Lotteries like man,
For if his calculation be but sound
For own poor Shilling he may get a pound,
Had I said twenty pound I had not ly'd
Set but your blanks, and scurvy chance aside:
But he shall sure be poor and come to lack
That loses all and leaves no Coyne for Sack.
Of an old Usurer that came to the Lottery
BUt then a greedy Usurer in truth
Came to the sport only in love to see
If he could get him any thing forsooth
That had got so much before by Usuery
He lost one shilling, which made him look full sad
Another to it would have made him mad.
The Embleme of a Lottery.
THis World may very well compared be
By its Contracting and uncertain waies
Very much like unto a Lottery
That is so frequent used now adayes
For still the Revolutions of these things
Makes some men sad, whilst others gladly sings
The wicked sort, they do Resemble much
Your blanks, that seemes so white unto the eyes
But being open'd torne is with a touch
Thrown under foot and there in dirt it lyes.
The Trumpet never sounds for any those
Nor thankes return'd for any Chose
But then your holy and religious man
He is compared unto your Costly prize
Which though at first it lookes so paile and wan
Why yet within, there the Rich Treasure lyes.
FINIS