A PACK OF PATENTEES.
- OPENED.
- SHVFFLED.
- CVT.
- DEALT.
- AND PLAYED.
LONDON, Printed in the yeare 1641.
A PACK OF PATENTEES.
Coales.
FAine would I write, but that I quake with cold,
The seasons of the yeare, are bought and sold
By Patentees: yet underground like Moles
They have their cells. The devill trades for Coales,
For Brimston's very scarce (all fiends by kinde)
Ile blow my nailes, and then Ile write my minde.
I doubt not but in gameing we may jump,
For all the knaves were lately turn'd up trump;
Which now are in the stock; nor can they passe
For current cheats, except they went to grasse,
And change themselves to Rams, live still in feare,
Yet fire was very cheape, but Coales are deare:
Which makes me feed so coldly, who can tell,
What projects best to bring 'em out of hell?
[Page 4]Perhaps they are but sunke into the sands,
Which doe resemble Hell, Ile warme my hands
On better termes ere long, but ah must I
Sit thus a cold untill the Sands be dry?
No, no, the spring tyde comes, which in a day
Will kisse the banks, and drive the sands away.
Sope.
WHere's Sapo now? he's gone to look his rent,
He cannot speed, he'd have his tenants shent,
And he a Pursevant to fetch 'em in;
His hornes are cut, and sorrowes doe begin
To creepe upon him: yet, he gaping stands,
Craving a fee when I should wash my hands:
I paid him weekly, but Ile pay no more,
His ware doth stink like him; that quits the score.
It spoyles my skin, if linnen cannot be
Kept cleane and sweet without a Patentee,
Weel goe like Turkes. But Smigmee he will bring
Content to you, and profit to the King;
If you will take his word: for he's the chiefe,
I wish at last, he may not prove a thiefe,
To Prince and Subject: If he doth he must
Hold up his head; nor shall he goe untrust.
The Laundresse will come in when he is try'd,
And frame her plea, The Countryes curse beside
Will light upon him: with a common scoff,
For all his Sope he came not cleanly off.
[Page 5]Enter Starch.
STay, who goes there in such a serious March?
One that will soon grow stiffe; because his Starch
Doth hang upon his hands; his outward skin
Is frighted from the flesh, he must come in
And lay the Shipskin downe for his abuse;
His dainti'st wares growne stale for want of use.
His white, his russer, and his purest blew
Is pouder'd up with branne; he's nothing new
But tydings of his cheate; He had reveal'd
(If he had got but once his Patent seal'd)
A way for yellow starch. This golden Itch
He catcht of Lucifer, or of the Witch
That first devised it. He (like them) pretends
The good of others, when his private ends
Are to inrich himselfe, but he may learne
What two ends be when one shall serve his turne.
I paint him but behinde; but know ere long
His looks will speak him, when he holds his tong.
I leave him as I found him, full of care;
Easing his purse being pesterd with his ware.
Exit.
Enter Leather.
Another Patentee? whats he? for Leather,
Bring in his Roules, and lay 'em up together.
He feeds upon the skin; 'tas been our manner
To blame the Shomaker, and then the Tanner,
[Page 6]Cause Boots and Shoes are deare, and we are faine
To use our selves to hardnesse, purchase paine,
To tame our legges, our Boots being full of holes,
We weare the hoofe to save a paire of soles.
Poore John the Cobler wee did banish hence,
Who would not sole 'em under sixteene pence▪
But we repent; for since he changd his stall,
His last, his bunch of bristles, and his [...]ll
Are all at pawne. But Pellio rides in state,
To gaine the Cities and the Country's hate.
Pray let him crisp his lockes; for he has blades
And braver Gallants than the knave of Spades
To waite upon him; if he goes too farre,
Though late for us, too soone for him a barre
May stop his pase: In earnest this a jest;
Though we went barefoot while he fild his chest;
The Lock is pickt by Law, and he shall finde
His shame new bottom'd when his skins unlinde.
Exit.
Enter Vinum.
IF I were able to direct my line,
I'de soone finde out the Patentee for Wine:
But he was shriev'd before, and did confesse
The wrong was none of his; but Ile expresse
My barren fancie: I am faine to pay
For tithe at least three halfe-pence every day:
Which makes the Spaniard proud, & he doth nurse
The French mans folly while he picks my purse.
[Page 7]The drunkards punisht most, but he'l gaine health,
And save his money now. The Common-wealth
Is bound to praise his wit, if he can fill
A chest of Gold or two, he in his Will
Will leave it all to others, who for him
Will dig his grave and leave him at the brim:
Then in their teares, their love shall be exprest,
Except he dies a mile from London, West.
Ile mix my Wine with water, till I finde
The parchment cancel'd, and his haughtie minde
Made like flos liberi, then may his dust
In forma pauperis, take a grave on trust.
His Motto's this; Death saucily begun
To rack up fortie shillings in a Tunne.
Exit.
Salt White Salt.
VVEll, now Salarius comes, a season'd man,
With Justice made in wax, but if he can
He'l broach some life into't; If he were free
Hee'd prove his armes at large, and you should see
His pedegree displayd; how he would thrive,
His seasons past, and now he stinkes alive.
His colours white, but he is black within
Being frighted from the seale, he'l now begin
To bate the price to neighbours; sell his store
For single gaines, his patent cost him more.
But hungry time hath eate it out of shape,
It gave him colour to commit a Rape
Upon the harmlesse body, his state
Sweld like a Maggot in a pudding fate,
[Page 8]Which now hath gather'd wings; and in a while
T'will fly abroad. I cannot chuse but smile
To see these Locusts creepe in every place;
Selling their credit they doe buy disgrace.
Their word will be Sallitus (in the street)
Qui sapit omnia could not keepe them sweet.
Exit.
Enter the Hop.
DIspatch the Hopman next, he cannot stay
To take his Bill, except he hops away,
He will betray the Pack, why may not he?
His wit is level'd with his honestie.
His wares have lost their sweetnes, sent, and hue,
The old are off his hands, as for the new
The times have spoyl'd their sale, yet he could sell
His Patent deare enough to those in hell.
But they can brew no drinke in stead of beare,
They have each minute every one a teare.
His shame brews griefe, when dāger finds no stops,
Tis boyl'd, tun'd, purg'd, and it needs no hops
To give its rellish, he would faine be shift
Of what he su'd for, but it is the drift
Of all his Chapmen that doe live in Towne,
To keepe up Hops and let the man goe downe.
Conceit hath fild his purse, but he will finde,
Although he went before, he came behinde;
'Tis easly knowne to what his gaine amounts,
But very hard to cast up his accompts.
Exit.
[Page 9]Enter Tobacco.
NOw Fumus comes alone; for he hath rais'd
Great profit out of naught; and he'd be prais'd
For his Industry, cause he loves the King,
He'l turne Impostor or be any thing
To shew his service to him, he will make
You buy your livelihood, or he will take
Your libertie away; He lately made
A Law by word of Mouth, to take your trade
A prisoner to himselfe, to keepe his pride
Lay downe your fine, and pay your rent beside:
Beleeve him tis his due; but all this while
I heare Saint Kit. Virginia doth beguile,
And he deceives us all, he's discontent,
His saucy tenants will not pay him rent.
For that which turnes to smoake, nor chop with those
On whom he spits his strength, or doth impose
His secrets in by weight, thence tryd he's cause
As Contra bonum, and against the Lawes,
His projects made with weeds, and emptie breath,
By such another he may catch his death.
Exit.
Gold Wyer.
THen came Auriligus to try his strength,
He hath a Seale to draw you out at length,
If youle be pliable, resigne your purse,
He'l Wyer-draw your wealth, and give a curse
[Page 10]To make up weight, or if you want a graine,
This Knave puts in himselfe to make up twaine.
He do's but fine your pride; why may not he
Take custome for your sinne (pay but your fee
And he'l remit your fault) as well as those
Which men pay for kissing? proving foes
To men with emptie purses, yet this slave
Hath gain'd no more than what will buy a grave,
To bury all his worth, what needs he more?
For he was dead in both his ends before.
Poore men must live to labour, they must give
Him tribute for their lives, and he must live
By their undoing. Now he'as lost his prey,
It's keeper slips aside, he runs away.
Pray charge him with disgrace, then quit the stage,
His Golden dayes wore out an Iron age.
Exit.
Warr Hornes.
BEware the Horner comes, he can transport
The Calves defence, the O [...]e, or any sort
Which are within his List, this Beast is free,
He'l suffer none to trade in hornes but he.
Speak, will you have them rough? then they are put
In universall termes; If they are cut
He'l change them into Combes, with privy theft
He'l barrell shame, he'has a Coxcombe left,
Which he will use himselfe, his ware doth stink,
The Devills hornes are short, and he do's thinke
To trade with him by whole-sale, then he may
Be carri'd hence, he need not run away.
[Page 11]He must have roome, though he be built for store,
An Asse behinde, is like an Oxe before.
His fortunes hard, nor can he hold his tongue,
He keepes his Patent, and his Hornes too long,
Which render him a Beast, so let him passe,
He shall be kept at House, not put to grasse,
Till he hath shed his Coate, then like a Deare,
He'l cast his Hornes, but cannot ev'ry yeare
Increase againe, new Cornigenus must
Restore men right, which he did keep on trust.
Exit.
Butter.
NOw heres a slippery Merchant, hold him fast,
His Patent seal'd with Butter, at a cast
He'l venture all his worth, he would be rich,
And make ten thousand pay for't; but his itch
Is somewhat coole, which formerly did burne,
A Rope with Butter's like to serve his turne:
His grease begins to melt, a running sore
Is broke behinde, because he rob'd the poore.
The richer sort might let his project passe,
He'l bring 'em back a gilded looking glasse,
To trim their folly by: but ah! poore I
Am never well but when my sauce-pans dry.
To feed the Flemings he would starve his friend,
Time has bewraid his plot, and crost his end.
He must be basted ere I have my wish,
Ile buy a Ferkin now, whereas a dish
Was us'd to serve me, let this scraping gull
Be salted up himselfe, his Tubs are full
[Page 12]O'th Anagram of Durt, so foule his case
Doth now appeare, but if a Farmers place
Were seal'd unto him, he might trade agen,
In stead of Ferkins hee'd have Hogsheads then.
Exit.
Raggs.
THe Rag-man's come at last, who proves his plot
To be but Kennell deep, and yet this sot
Is deeper in the shame than he which groanes
His length from earth, or nastie marrow-bones.
Some sweep their houses, others rake the street,
To make his pack, and if he do's but meet
One that has rob'd the Gutters, hee's the taker,
For he was truly borne a dung-hill-raker.
His servants weare his cloth, who ere you finde
With little Dung-rakes, and with bags behinde,
Can blaze his Armes at large, he makes his brags
That he's growne whole, and they doe shift their tags
Six times a week, but once a moneth he bets,
They'd have the linnen which the Hangman gets,
But that his Patent was not wisely drawne,
To hold in Law; his brames were laid to pawne
For Country Tom's old linnen (to begin)
Except the shrowd which he was buried in.
Pray view this totter'd patch, as he appeares,
His Coate is shed, and he may shake his eares.
Exit.
[Page 13] The rest shuffled up together.
WE'l shuffle up the pack, those that before
Did play at post & par [...] must play no more;
For they are of a suit. A Courtiers face
Would face out all, but that he wants an Ace.
The former lost their stakes; were they no [...] gone,
(Their games being play'd) they might be lookers on.
But Marrow-bones must shuffle, he begins,
Who [...] forgot the stock; yet challeng'd Pins
To prick them in the middle: not agreed,
In shuffling one another, they proceed
To take the Dice, and end it with a throw;
Pins was above, and Marrow-bones below:
Had broke Tobacco-Pipes, had he been dry'd,
New-Corporation betting on his side,
Did make Gold waights his partner, and Bone-lace
Would play with Pins, who quickly gave him place.
Their faults were shuffled in, and every man
Will deale 'em to his partner if he can.
They dodg in the beginning, all are vext,
The Cards are shuffled now, the Cuttings next.
The Cutting.
THey lift for Dealing first, Gold waights would fight,
(who cut a knave) cause Pins was least in sight,
And got the Dealing, then they rais'd their spleen,
Waights had a cut that all his faults were seen.
The spirits being laid, they change their place,
And Marrow-bones must deale, he cut an Ace.
[Page 14]They give each other names: who had the deale
They cald the Goose, and Lace they styld the Veale,
Gold waights the bragging Turky, they did passe
On Pins that lost the deale, the Prick-ear'd Asse.
The Gamsters alter'd; they be few, were men
Now chang'd to beasts and foule, they cut agen.
Veale bleats an oath, Goose creaked out a curse,
Who did but pick, they scorn'd to cut a purse.
Then Prickeare bray'd, the Turky stretcht his neck,
But he that was to deale, did give a Beck
On eares to cut the Cards, who cut so low,
He turn'd the pack, that stander by might know
The turning Card that Veale with dealing rubs,
First came the Ace, and then the knave of Clubs.
The Dealing.
VVEll now he deales about, & yet their game
With free allowance had not got a name.
The Cards prove bad, they are mad at what they doe,
They're every one a scurvie trick or two:
And all are like to loose: one he will have
Another deale, and play at Noddy-knave.
To which they did agree; but yet at last
New-cut must be their lift, and then they cast
The knaves for partners, which are now to seek,
They had not wit enough to play at Gleek.
Their Patents lay at stake, and they that win
Must cast the shame away they'r setled in.
To play a night away, for feare the Sunne
Should note their way, they having but begun;
[Page 15]Their brains were thick, they playd at six & seven,
New-cut but dealt, they broke up at eleven.
Now three-Card noddy having chang'd his place,
Must be the Game, but they mistooke the case,
In putting out fifteens, but now yee may
Work up your wits in jest and see 'em play.
The Playing.
THe Pursevant sits by, he'l be their Scribe,
And reckon just, unlesse he takes a bribe.
When three were flush of foure, eldest hand
Had got a great paire Royall; he did stand
Upon his priviledge, and cast a plot
To win the Game; but he was out a spot.
But having spi'd a Courtier, up he starts,
The while his partner turn'd the knave of Harts
For Noddy knave, who tooke another in,
Which made a paire, and yet he could not win.
The third had double Sequents, and a way
To have a double game, but's foolish play
Hath dasht his hopes, the last had six fifteens,
With changing Cards, who thought that Kings & Queens
Would beare him out in being at a stand,
They'd gladly part their stakes at even hand,
The Officer writes — nor can he see,
A bribe come to him, nor a single see.
The Gamsters breake, and part, they sate enough;
For justice challeng'd them to play at Rough.
She hath her eyes, though Painters paint her blind,
She made them run, and leave their stakes behind.
FINIS.