The New Courtier

Upon the Change where Merchants meet
'Twixt Cornhill and Thredneedle-street;
Where Wits of every size is hurl'd,
To treat of all things in the World:
I saw a folded Paper fall,
And upon it, these words were writ,
Have at all.

Thought I, if Have at all. it be,
For ought I know, 'tis have at Me:
And (if consequence be true)
It may as well be Have at You:
Then listen pray to what I shall,
In brief declare, what's written there:
Have at all.

I Am a Courtier, who in sport,
Do come from the Utopian Court,
To whisper softly in your Ear,
How high we are, and what we were:
To tell you all would be too much,
But here and there a little touch,
Have at all.

I was not many years agoe,
In tater'd trim from top to toe:
But now niy ruin'd Robes are burn'd,
My Rags are all to Ribbons turn'd:
My Patches into Peeces fall,
I cogg a Dye, Swagger and Lye,
Have at all.

Vpon my Pantelonian Pate
I wear a Milleners Estate:
But when he Duns me at the Court,
I shew him a Protection for't:
Whilst he both to Protesting fall,
I cry, Dam me, Sir, you lye,
Have at all.

Since Venus shav'd off my Hair,
A powdred Perewig I wear,
Which brings me in the Golden Girls,
Game-Royal for Dukes, Lords and Earls:
When Love doth for a cooler call,
My fancy drives, at maids & wives,
Have at all.

My Lodgings never are at quiet,
Another Duns me for my Diet,
I had of him in Fifty three,
Which I forgot, so did not he:
I call him saucy Fellow, sirrah,
And draw my Sword to run him thorough
Have at all.

Yet once a Friend that sav'd my Life,
Who had a witty wanton wife,
I did in (courtesie) requite,
Made him a Cuckold, and a Knight:
Which makes him mount like Tennis ball,
Whilst she & I, together cry:
Have at all.

But yet these Citts are subtile Slaves,
Most of them Wits, and knowing Knaves;
We get their Children, and they do,
From us get Lands, and Lordships too:
And 'tis most fit in those affairs
The Lands should go to the right hairs
Have at all.

A Souldier I directly hate:
A Cavelier once broke my Pate
With Cane in hand he overcome me
And took away my Mistress from me:
for I confess I love a Wench
Be she English, Irish, Dutch, or French
Have at all.

A Souldiers life is not like mine
I will be Plump when he shall Pine?
My Projects carry stronger force
Then all their Armed Foot and Horse:
What though his morter-peeces roar
My Chimney-peeces shall do more:
Have at all.

Thus I have given you in short
A Courtier of Utopian Court.
I Write not of Religion,
For (to tell truly) we have none.
If any me to Question call,
With pen or Sword, Hab Nab's the Word
Have at all.