A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Xi Part 53

SCAT. What is't, hearts?

STAINES. The king! what say you?

LONG. You must speak, sir.

SCAT. Why, I bid thirteen.

STAINES. Fourteen.

SCAT. Fifteen.

STAINES. Sixteen.

LONG. Sixteen, seventeen.

STAINES. You shall ha't for me.

SCAT. Eighteen.

LONG. Take it to you, sir.

SCAT. Ud's life! I'll not be outbraved.

STAINES. I vie it.

LONG. I'll none of it.

SCAT. Nor I.

STAINES. Give me a murnival of aces and a gleek of queens.

LONG. And me a gleek of knaves.

SCAT. Ud's life! I'm gleeked this time.

_Enter_ WILL RASH.

STAINES. Play.

W. RASH. Equal fortunes befall you, gallants.

SCAT. Will Rash: well, I pray see what a vile game I have.

W. RASH. What's your game--gleek?

SCAT. Yes, faith, gleek; and I have not one court card but the knave of clubs.

W. RASH. Thou hast a wild hand, indeed. Thy small cards show like a troop of rebels, and the knave of clubs their chief leader.

SCAT. And so they do, as G.o.d save me: by the cross of this silver, he says true.

_Enter_ SPENDALL.

STAINES. Pray, play, sir.

LONG. Honour.

W. RASH. How go the stocks, gentlemen? what's won or lost?

STAINES. This is the first game.

SCAT. Yes, this is the first game; but, by the cross of this silver, here's all of five pounds.

SPEND. Good day to you, gentlemen.

W. RASH. Frank, welcome, by this hand; how dost, lad?

SPEND. And how does thy wench, faith?

W. RASH. Why, fat and plump, like thy geldings; thou giv'st them both good provender, it seems. Go to, thou art one of the madd'st wags of a citizen i' th' town: the whole company talks of thee already.

SPEND. Talk! why, let 'em talk; ud's foot! I pay scot and lot, and all manner of duties else, as well as the best of 'em. It may be they understand I keep a wh.o.r.e, a horse, and a kennel of hounds; what's that to them? no man's purse opens for it but mine own; and so long my hounds shall eat flesh, my horse bread, and my wh.o.r.e wear velvet.

W. RASH. Why, there spoke a courageous boy.

SPEND. Ud's foot! shall I be confined all the days of my life to walk under a pent-house? No, I'll take my pleasure whilst my youth affords it.

SCAT. By the cross of these hilts, I'll never play at gleek again, whilst I have a nose on my face: I smell the knavery of the game.

SPEND. Why, what's the matter? who has lost?

SCAT. Marry, that have I. By the hilts of my sword, I have lost forty crowns in as small time almost as a man might tell it.

SPEND. Change your game for dice: we are a full number for Novem.[179]

SCAT. With all my heart. Where's Master Ambush the broker? Ninnihammer.

NIN. Sir.

SCAT. Go to Master Ambush, and bid him send me twenty marks upon this diamond.

_Enter_ BUBBLE.

NIN. I will, sir.

LONG. Look ye, to make us merrier, who comes here?

W. RASH. A fresh gamester? Master Bubble, G.o.d save you.