The complaint of M. Tenterhook the Projector, and Sir Thomas Dodger the Patentee  depiction of a rat dressed as a man presenting money bags to a patentee 
I have brought money to fill your Chest, For which I am cursed by most and least  
O'er many years scraping is left at a clap, All thou hast gotten by others mishap,   

If any ask, what things these Monsters be,  
'tis a Projector, and a Patentee:  
Such, as like Vermin o'er this Land did crawl,  
And grew so rich, they gained the Devil and all.   

Lo I, that lately was a Man of fashion,  
The Bugbear and the Scarecrow of this Nation,  
Th'admired mighty Mountebank of Fame,  
The Juggling Hocus Pocus of good name,  
The Bullbeggar, who did affright and fear,  
And rake, and pull, tear, pill, pole, shave, and shear,  
Now Time hath plucked the Vizard from my face,  
I am the only Image of disgrace.  
My ugly shape I hid so cunningly  
(Close covered with the cloak of honesty)  
That from the East to West, from South to North,  
I was a man esteemed of excellent worth.  
And (sweet Sir Thomas Dodger) for your sake,  
My studious time I spent, my sleeps I broke,  
My brains I tossed, with many a strange vagary,  
And (like a Spaniel) did both fetch and carry,  
To you, such Projects, as I could invent,  
Not thinking there would come a Parliament.  
I was the Great Projector, and from me,  
Your worship learned to be a Patentee,  
I had the Art to cheat the Commonweal,  
And you had tricks and slights to pass the Seal.  
I took the pains, I travelled, searched, and sought,  
Which (by your power) were into Patents wrought.  
What was I but your journeyman, I pray,  
To bring your work to you, both night and day:  
I found Stuffe, and you brought it so about  
You (like a skilful Tailor) cut it out,  
And fashioned it, but now (to our displeasure)  
You failed exceedingly, in taking measure.  
My legs were Screwes, to raise thee high or low,  
According as your power did Ebb or Flow:  
And at your will I was Screwed up too high  
That tottering, I have broke my neck thereby.  
For you, I made my Finger's fishhooks still  
To catch at all Trades, either good or ill,  
I cared not much who lost, so we might get,  
For all was Fish that came into the Net.  
For you (as in my Picture plain appears)  
I put a Swine's face on, an Ass' ears,  
The one to listen unto all I heard  
Wherein your worship's profit was preferred.  
The other to taste all things, good or bad  
(As Hogs will do) where profit may be had,  
Grape, Starch, Tobacco, Pipes, Pins, Butter, hay,  
Wine, Coals, Cards, Dice, and all came in my way.  
I brought your worship, every day and hour,  
And hope to be defended by your power,   

Sir Thomas Dodgers Answer!  
ALas good Tenterhook, I tell thee plain,  
To seek for help of me 'tis but in vain:  
My Patent, which I stood upon of late,  
Is like an Almanac that's out of Date.  
T'had force and virtue once, strange things to do,  
But now it wants both force and virtue too:  
his was the turn of whirling Fortune's wheel,  
When we least dreamed we should her changing feel.  
Then Time, and fortune, both with joint consent  
Brought us to ruin by a Parliament:  
I do confess thou brought'st me sweet conceits  
Which now I find were but alluring baits,  
And I (to much an Ass) did lend my ear,  
To credit all thou saidst, as well as hear.  
Thou in the Project of the Soap didst toil,  
But 'twas so slippery, and too full of oil,  
That people wondered how we held it fast,  
But now it is quite slipped from us at last.  
The Project for the Starch thy wit found out,  
'twas stiff a while, now limber as a Clout,  
The Pagan weed (Tobacco) was our hope  
In Leaf, Prick, Role, Ball, Pudding, Pipe, or Rope.  
Brasseele, Varina, Meavis, Trinidado,  
Saint Christopher's, Virginia, or Barvado;  
Bermudas, Providentia, Shallowcongo,  
And the most part of all the rest (Mundungo)  
That Patent, with a whiff is spent and broke,  
And all our hopes (in fumo) turned to smoke.  
Thou framdst the Butter Patent in thy brains,  
(A rope and butter take thee for thy pains)  
I had forgot Tobacco-pipes, which are  
Now like to thou and I, but brittle ware.  
Dice run against us, we at Cards are crossed,  
We both are turned up Noddies, and all's lost.  
Thus from- Sice-sinke, we're sunk below Dewee-ace,  
And both of us are Imps of black disgrace.  
Pins prick us, and Wine frets our very hearts,  
That we have raised the price of Pints and Quarts.  
Thou (in mine ears) thy lies and tales didst foist.  
And mad'st me up the price of Sea-coals hoist.  
Corn, Leather, Partridge, Pheasant, Rags, Gold twist,  
Thou brought'st all to my Mill, what was't we missed?  
Weights, Bonlace, Mowstraps, new, new, Corporation,  
Rattles, Seadans, of rare invented fashions,  
Silk, Tallow, Hobby-horses, wood, red-herring,  
Law, Conscience, justice, swearing, and Forswearing.  
All these thou brought'st to me, and still I thought,  
That every thing was good that profit brought,  
But now all's found to be ill gotten pelf,  
I'll shift for one do thou shift for thyself.   
Finis.   

JOHN TAYLOR London Printed by H. P. for Frances Coles dwelling in the Old-Baily.