The compleat gamester, or, Instructions how to play at billiards, trucks, bowls, and chess together with all manner of usual and most gentile games either on cards or dice : to which is added the arts and mysteries of riding, racing, archery, and cock-fighting.
Cotton, Charles, 1630-1687.
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The Explanation of the Frontispiece.
BIlliards from Spain at first deriv'd its name,
Both an ingenious, and a cleanly Game.
One Gamester leads (the Table green as grass)
And each like Warriers strive to gain the Pass.
But in the contest, e're the Pass be won,
Hazzards are many into which they run.
Thus whilst we play on this Terrestrial Stage,
Nothing but Hazzard doth attend each age.
Next here are Hazzards play'd another way,
By Box and Dice; 'tis Hazzard is the Play.
The Bully-Rock with mangy fist, and Pox,
Iustles some out, and then takes up the Box.
He throws the Main, and crys, Who comes at Seven?
Thus with a dry fist nicks it with Eleven.
If out, he raps out Oaths I dare not tell,
Hot, piping out, and newly come from Hell.
Old-Nick o're-hearing, by a Palming-trick
Secures the Gamester; thus the Nickers nickt.
Now t' Irish, or Back-Gammoners we come,
Who wish their money, with their men safe home;
But as in War, so in this subtle Play,
The stragling men are ta'ne up by the way.
By entring then, one reinforceth more,
It may be to be lost, as those before.
By Topping, Knapping, and foul play some win;
But those are losers, who so gain by sin.
After these three the Cock-pit claims a name;
A sport gentile, and call'd a Royal Game.
Now see the Gallants crowd about the Pit,
And most are stockt with Money more than Wit;
Else-sure they would not, with so great a stir,
Lay ten to one on a Cocks faithless Spur.
Lastly, observe the Women with what grace
They sit, and look their Partners in the face.
Who from their eyes shoot Cupids fiery Darts;
Thus make them lose at once their Game and Hearts.
Their white soft hands, (when e're the Cards they cut)
Make the men wish to change the Game to Putt.
The Women knew their thoughts, then cry'd, Enough,
Lets leave off Whist, and go to Putt, or Ruff.
Ladies don't trust your secrets in that hand,
Who can't their own (to their great grief) command.
For this I will assure you, if you do,
In time you'l lose your Ruff and Honour too.
[illustration]
THE COMPLEAT GAMESTER:
