_Trice_. Saucy rascal, to disturb my meditations. [_Exit Servant_.--Ay, it shall be he: Jack Loveby, what think'st thou of a game at piquet, we two, hand to fist? you and I will play one single game for ten pieces: 'Tis deep stake, Jack, but 'tis all one between us two: You shall deal, Jack:--Who I, Mr Justice! that's a good one; you must give me use for your hand then; that's six i'the hundred.--Come, lift, lift;--mine's a ten; Mr Justice:--mine's a king; oh ho, Jack, you deal. I have the advantage of this, i'faith, if I can keep it. [_He deals twelve a piece, two by two, and looks on his own cards_.] I take seven, and look on this--Now for you, Jack Loveby. _Enter_ LOVEBY _behind_. _Lov_. How's this? Am I the man he fights with? _Trice_. I'll do you right, Jack; as I am an honest man, you must discard this; there's no other way: If you were my own brother, I could do no better for you.--Zounds, the rogue has a quint-major, and three aces younger hand.--[_Looks on the other cards_.] Stay; what am I for the point? But bare forty, and he fifty-one: Fifteen, and five for the point, twenty, and three by aces, twenty-three; well, I am to play first: one, twenty-three; two, twenty-three; three, twenty-three; four, twenty-three;--Pox on't, now I must play into his hand: five:--now you take it, Jack;--five, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, and the cards forty. _Lov_. Hitherto it goes well on my side.-- _Trice_. Now I deal: How many do you take, Jack? All. Then I am gone: What a rise is here! Fourteen by aces, and a sixieme-major; I am gone, without looking into my cards.--[_Takes up an ace and bites it_.] Ay, I thought so: If ever man play'd with such cursed fortune, I'll be hanged, and all for want of this damned ace--there's your ten pieces, with a pox to you, for a rooking beggarly rascal as you are. LOVEBY _enters_. _Lov_. What occasion have I given you for these words, sir? Rook and rascal! I am no more rascal than yourself, sir. _Trice_. How's this! how's this! _Lov_. And though for this time I put up, because I am a winner-- [_Snatches the gold_. _Trice_. What a devil do'st thou put up? Not my gold, I hope, Jack? _Lov_. By your favour, but I do; and 'twas won fairly: a sixieme, and fourteen by aces, by your own confession,--What a pox, we don't make childrens' play, I hope? _Trice_. Well, remember this, Jack; from this hour I forswear playing with you when I am alone; what, will you bate me nothing on't? _Lov_. Not a farthing, Justice; I'll be judged by you; if I had lost, you would have taken every piece on't: What I win, I win--and there's an end. _Enter Servant_. _Serv_. Sir, these people stay without, and will not be answered. _Trice_. Well, what's their business? _Serv_. Nay, no great matter; only a fellow for getting a wench with child. _Trice_. No great matter, say'st thou? 'Faith, but it is. Is he a poor fellow, or a gentleman? _Serv_. A very poor fellow, sir.