The wheel of fortune: or, Nothing for a penny Being remarks on the dawing [sic] the penny-lottery, at the Theatre-Royal, in Dorset-Garden, with the characters of some of the honourable trustees, and all due acknowledgments paid to his honour the undertaker. Written by a person who was cursed mad he had not the thousand pound lot.

THE Wheel of FORTUNE OR, Nothing for a Penny. DAme Fortune aſſiſt, If you pleaſe, or you liſt, Whilſt I ſing in the praiſe of a fancy, Which has gather'd the Croud, Rich, Poor, and Proud, From her Grace down to Suſan and Nancy. We ſhould do 'em much wrong Not to praiſe the dull Throng, And admire how the Devil ſo many Could venture together, In theſe ſharp times and weather, And all for one pitiful Peny. But the thing which in chief, Will ſuſpend our belief, Becauſe ſo uncommon and rare, Is that this happn'd out When the Rabble and Rout, Should have paid their reſpects at Horn-fair, For the Cit was afraid Should he with Fork and Spade, Like a true London Cuckold advance, Some more lucky Sot, Had march'd off with his Lot, And that was the Thouſand pound Chance. But no more of the Cits, If we're in our right Wits, And Reverence the Sword and the Mace, For Sir H— won't ſuffer Nor Flouter nor ſcoffer. Thoſe he's the chief of, to diſgrace. Wherefore let us proceed To give thoſe, who can read An account of the wiſe Undertaker, And as far as we dare Tho' the Cuckolds we ſpare, Make bold with the brisk Cuckold-maker, The Wheel's being plac'd And Lacker'd and grac'd Like a Chariot of Triumph or State, The Mob, Sir, and Gentry, At one time make their entry, And promiſcuouſly take each their place, Here Sarah and Moll Sit with Richard and Paul, And a Perſon of Quality by 'em; Who with Hat lowring down Caſts many a frown Becauſe Sir, his Honour's ſo nigh 'em. But no matter for that They ne're mind his Hat, But keep gaping, and talking, and ſtaring Whilſt ſtate keeps the Lord, From ſaying one word, And much trys his Lordſhip's forbearing Look ye, Sarah, ſays Paul, Our Old Maſter's Hall, Is a booby to thick zame vine place; Zwounds, Girl, thick holds more, Than his by zome ſcore, And looks in a much better caſe. Vaith, if yonder Dame Vortune, Behind that zame Curtain, Will a thouſand pound give for my Penny; Why, mun, Thee and I, Shall have mony to buy A Barn that will hold full as many. I vow, and indeed, If I ſhou'd zucceed We'd have Roaſt-meat, beſides upon Zunday: And e cod, Girl, a Witch Said I ſhould be rich, As the Parſon himſelf ſhould be one day. When up flew the Curtain And ſhew'd Goddeſs Fortune, Triumphantly plac'd on a Throne: Lord! how each beg'd and pray'd For her Ladiſhips aid! Tho' they had as well let her alone. For regardleſs ſhe ſate, 'Midſt her Pomp and her State, Nor dar'd promiſe any her Favour, Whilſt a Goddeſs ſate by And with piercing eye, Obſerv'd her deſigns and behaviour. For the Deity Juſtice Sate over the Truſtees, And his Honour the noble Inventer, And upon my word, Her Scales and her Sword, Would have been too hard for bad intent here Beneath Fortune that Goddeſs Stood one not over modiſh, With his Hat in his hand and beſeeching, That her Ladiſhip wou'd Uſe his words which were good, And his Prologue to make her ſpeech in. 'Twas a Poet it ſeems With his Fancies and Dreams, But, Lord! what a figure he made! How he ſqueez'd when the Lady Was not over ready, And repeated not what he had ſaid! As the Prologue was ſpoke Without good ſence or joke, So a Lord of high Title and Birth, Firſt vow'd he was juſt, And in Sirs he thruſt The Tickets, which caus'd mighty mirth. Thoſe who were before ſad Look'd jocund and glad, Not doubting but right would be done; Since a Peer who laid claim To Honour and Fame, Swore all ſhould be paid that was won. For tho' we all knew 'Twas certain and true, That the Tickets ſhould all be drawn out, Yet ſome were afraid They would never be paid, And at what time they will's yet a doubt. There was none but could read What his Lordſhip had ſaid, In the Majors boon Air and his Mein; For how could he do wrong, Who had ſuch a fine Tongue, And whoſe face, and whoſe hands were ſo clean? Tho' ſome who were there, Did not ſtick to declare, That his Honour was not a great Wit; Yet I vow and proteſt. Hes as wiſe as the beſt If they can ne'er be fooliſh who get. For what needed he mind, Whether Lame, Sick, or Blind The one Thouſand pound Ticket ſhould win; When all of us knew He himſelf would gain two, If I ſaid more it could be no ſin? In a cloſe Mourning ſuit, Majeſtick and mute, Like a true man of breeding he ſat. And would not ſo much As offend with a touch, The Mob, or his Wig, with his Hat, But a Doctor, whoſe head Was not ſo well bred, Cock'd his Felt to a Hair on his Crown; And ſwore 'twas not Law To be kept ſo in awe Of the ſcum of the Land, the Mob's frown. With his eyes on his noſe His worſhip aroſe, I ſhould ſay his Honour, for he, Tho' he's loſt all his places And at Court in diſgrace is, Has gain'd the name of a Truſtee. There's nothing that's evil, Said Man of Law-Civil Intended by ſmall or great Wheel, Can you think a Lord's Brother, Will do as another, Or Quality act any ill? By Digeſts and Codes, There are no greater Odds, Than one Thouſand eight Hundred to One, And that is not many, For a Lot's but a Penny, And I ſtand here to ſee Juſtice done. Can ye think, Sirs, one bred To write and to read As I, will paſs by a deceit? No, I'll lay a wager, His Honour the Major, Has not a bad thought in his Pate. Why Sirs, I am known To Country and Town, And have pleaded for Pirate and Thief, And tho' Judges and Jury Would not hear me, I aſſure ye, I can't but deſerve your belief. The folks could not ſay no, 'Cauſe he made ſuch a ſhow, And was one of the fam'd Overſeers, Tho' he might then have known What they thought would be done, Had his eyes but kept watch with his Ears. For thoſe who were told How clam'rous and bold He had been in his Advocate's place, Thought his condeſcention To ſuch an Invention Had very much alter'd the Caſe. And, in troth, it was mean For him to be ſeen For a poor, ſorry, penny chance pleading, Who ne'er would make a plea Without a pound Fee, And very good drinking and feeding: But ſome who would excuſe, Said, he ought not to refuſe A Place of ſuch Honour and State; Since he would never lack, No good Fowls or good Sack, Which men of the Law never hate. But this may fuffice As the Pulpiter crys, Who nothing ſufficient has ſhown, For both I and you know, That Crimine ac uno The faults of the reſt may be known. The Lots and the Prizes Of all ſorts and ſizes, Being plac'd in the Wheels as deſign'd, A Boy at each Wheel Stood ready to feel If her Ladiſhip Fortune was kind. But me thought the Undertaker Made a mighty miſtake here In ſending for Boys from a place, As the houſe of Correction To give their inſpection In a thing of ſuch Grandure and Grace: For how could he ſuppoſe Any credit from thoſe Who are bred amongſt Thieves, and are taught To ſink and to palm Without any Qualm, And whoſe livelihood is to be nought. Tho' ſome thought it juſt That they ſhould have that truſt, As aggreeable to the plot laid For the Devil a bit, Did the Men of Wit, If they won believe they ſhould be paid. The fair Mrs Wiſe Got the Fortunate prize. If Poſt-boys and Poſt-men, are true, Tho' what ſhe'll receive Gentle Readers I leave To ſuch Politicians as you. This I am ſure of, that ſhe May have you, him, or me, If they juſtly and honeſtly pay her, For a Thouſand pound Sterlin Will make any Girl in The Kingdom, ſucceed in her prayer? But have it or not, She'll ne'er like ſuch a ſot As the Perſon who writing now is, For it is his damn'd fate Neither ſplay-foot nor ſtrait, E're yet fell in love with his Phiz. Wherefore Fortune and Juſtice Ʋndertaker and Truſtees, And Caſhiers and Bankers adieu, For it is but fitting There ſhould be ſome greeting At parting between me and you. I have no more to ſay, If you will you may pay, If you wo'nt you may take to your heels, For, Zouns I have loſt Ev'ry Jack, to my coſt, And along with your damn'd Wheels. FINIS.