But he thinks upon Jack How.[2]

My lady, though she is no player,
Some bungling partner takes,
And, wedged in corner of a chair,
Takes snuff, and holds the stakes.

Dame Floyd[3] looks out in grave suspense
For pair royals and sequents;
But, wisely cautious of her pence,
The castle seldom frequents.

Quoth Herries,[4] fairly putting cases,
I'd won it, on my word,
If I had but a pair of aces,
And could pick up a third.

But Weston has a new-cast gown
On Sundays to be fine in,
And, if she can but win a crown,
'Twill just new dye the lining.

"With these is Parson Swift,[5]
Not knowing how to spend his time,
Does make a wretched shift,
To deafen them with puns and rhyme."



[Footnote 1: The Earl of Berkeley.]