THE Wheel of Fortune: OR, Nothing for a Penny.  
BEING Remarks on the dawing the Penny-Lottery, at the THEATRE-ROYAL, in Dorset-Garden, with the Characters of some of the Honourable trusties, and all due acknowledgements paid to his Honour the Undertaker.  
— Momento turbinis exit,  
Macrus Davus,  Pers. 
Written by a Person who was cursed Mad he had not the Thousand pound Lot.  
LONDON, Printed in the Year 1698. Price three pence.   

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 gathered the Crowd,  
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  
Can venture together,  
In these sharp times and weather,  
And all for one pitiful Penny.  
But the thing which in chief,  
Will suspend our belief,  
Because so uncommon and rare,  
Is that this happened 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 marched 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 placed  
And Lackered and graced  
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  
Sat with Richard and Paul,  
And a Person of Quality by 'em;  
Who with Hat lowering down  
Casts many a frown  
Because Sir, his Honour's so nigh 'em.  
But no matter for that  
They ne'er mind his Hat,  
But keep gaping, and talking, and staring  
Whilst state keeps the Lord,  
From saying one word,  
And much tries his Lordship's forbearing  
Look ye, Sarah, says Paul,,  
Our Old Master's Hall,  
Is a booby to thick same vine place;  
Zounds, Girl, thick holds more,  
Than his by zome score,  
And looks in a much better case.  
Vaith, if yonder Dame Fortune,  
Behind that same Curtain,  
Will a thousand pound give for my Penny;  
Why, mun, thou and I,  
Shall have money to buy  
A Barn that will hold full as many.  
I vow, and indeed,  
If I should zucceed  
We'd have Roast-meat, besides upon Sunday:,  
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 showed Goddess Fortune,  
Triumphantly placed on a Throne:  
Lord! how each begged and prayed  
For her Ladyship's aid!  
Tho' they had as well let her alone.  
For regardless she sat,  
'Midst her Pomp and her State,  
Nor dared promise any her Favour,  
Whilst a Goddess sat by  
And with piercing eye,  
Observed her designs and behaviour.  
For the Deity Justice  
Sat over the trusties,  
And his Honour the noble Inventor,  
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 Ladyship would  
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 squeezed when the Lady  
Was not over ready,  
And repeated not what he had said!  
As the Prologue was spoke  
Without good sense or joke,  
So a Lord of high Title and Birth,  
First vowed he was just,  
And in Sirs he thrust  
The Tickets, which caused mighty mirth.  
Those who were before sad  
Looked 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 Major's 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,  
Majestic 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,  
Cocked 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 gained 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 famed 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 clamorous and bold  
He had been in his Advocate's place,  
Thought his condescension  
To such an Invention  
Had very much altered 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 cries,  
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 placed in the Wheels as designed,  
A Boy at each Wheel  
Stood ready to feel  
If her Ladyship 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 Grandeur and Grace:  
For how could he suppose  
Any credit from those  
Who are bred amongst Thiefs, 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 damned fate  
Neither splay-foot nor strait,  
 yet fell in love with his Phiz.  
Wherefore Fortune and Justice  
Undertaker and trusties,  
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 won't you may take to your heels,  
For, Zouns I have lost  
Every Jack, to my cost,  
And along with your damned Wheels.  
FINIS.