-Nothing but rubbish in my hand!--I can't help it.And so, Me'em, five odious frights of dogs beset my poor little Pompey-the dear creature has the heart of a lion; but who can resist five at once ?-And so Pompey barked for assistance the hurt he received was upon his chestthe doctor would not advise him to venture out till the wound is healed, for fear of an inflamation. Pray what's trumps? Sir C. My dear, you'd make a most excellent actress. Lady R. Well, now, lets go to rest-but, Sir Charles, how shockingly you play'd that last rubber, when I stood looking over you! Sir C. My love, I play'd the truth of the game. Lady R. No, indeed my dear, you played it wrong. than you. Sir C. All conceit, my dear! I was perfectly right. Lady R. No such thing, Sir Charles; the diamond was the play. Sir C. Po! Po! Ridiculous! The club was the card, against the world. it was the diamond. Lady R. Oh! No, no, no- Lady R. What do you fly into such a passion for? Sir C. Death and fury, Do you think I don't know what I'm about? I tell you once more, the club was the judgment of it. Lady R. May be so-bave it your own way. Sir C. Vexation! You're the strangest woman that ever lived; there's no conversing with you.-Look ye here, my Lady Racket- 'tis the clearest case in the worldI' make it plain in a moment. Lady R. Well, Sir; ha, ha, ha! Sir C. I had four cards left-a trump had led-they were six- -no, no, no-they were seven, and we nine -then, you know -the beauty of the play was toLady R. Well, now, 'tis amazing to me that you can't see it. Give me leave, Sir Charles--your left hand adversary had led his last trump-and he had before finessed the club, and roughed the diamond-now if you had put on your diamond Sir C. But, Madam, we played for the odd trick. Sir C. Here me, I say. Will you hear me? Lady R. I never heard the like in my life." Sir C. Why then you are enough to provoke the patience of a Stoic. Very well, madam! You know no more of the game than your father's leaden Hercules on the top of the house. You know no more of whist than he does of gardening. Lady R. Ha, ha, ha! Sir C. You're a vile woman, and I'll not sleep another night under one roof with you. Lady R. As you please, Sir. Sir C. Madam, it shall be as I please-I'll order my chariot this moment. [Going] I know how the cards should be played as well as any man in England, that let me tell you-[Going] And when your family were standing behind counters, measuring out tape, and bartering for Whitechapel needless, my ancestors, my ancestors, Madam, were squandering away whole estates, at cards; whole estates, my lady Racket-[She hums a tune.] Why, then, by all that's dear to me, I'll never exchange another word with you, good, bad, or indifferent. Look ye, my lady Racket-thus it stood the trump being led, it was then my business Lady R. To play the diamond, to be sure. Sir C. I have done with you forever; and so you may tell your father. Lady R. What a passion the gentleman is in! Ha! ha! I promise him I'll not give up my judgment. Reenter Sir Charles. Sir C. My lady Racket-look'ye, Ma'am, once more, out of pure good nature Lady R. Sir, I am convinced of your good nature. Sir C. That, and that only, prevails with me to tell you, the club was the play. Lady R. Well, be it so I have no objection. Sir C. 'Tis the clearest point in the word we were nine, and Lady R. And for that very reason, you know the club was the best in the house. Sir C. There's no such thing as talking to you.You're a base woman- -I'll part with you forever, you may live here with your father, and admire his fantastical evergreens, till you grow as fantastical yourself-I'll set out for London this instant.[Stops at the door] The club was not the best in the house. Lady R. How calm you are! Well, I'll go to bed. Will you come? you had better-Poor Sir Charles. [Looks and laughs, then exit.] Sir C. That case is provoking-[Crosses to the opposite door where she went out.] I tell you the diamond was not the play; and here I take my final leave of you-[Walks back as fast as he can] I am resolved upon it; and I know the club was not the best in the house. VIII. Brutus and Cassius.-SHAKESPEARE. Bru. You wrong'd yourself to write in such a case. Cas. I an itching palm? You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Bru. The name of Cassius honours this corruption, Cas. Chastisement? Bru. Remember March, the Ides of March remember. Did not great Julius bleed for justice sake? What! shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers; Shall we now And sell the mighty space of our large honours, Cas. Brutus, bay not me: I'll not endure it. You forget yourself Bru. Go to! You are not, Cassius. Bru. I say you are not. Cas. Urge me no more: I shall forget myself? Have mind upon your health: tempt me no farther. Bru. Away, slight man! Cas. Is't possible! Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Cas. Must I endure all this! Bru. All this! Ay, more. Fret till your proud heart break: Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Cas. Is it to come to this? Bru. You say you are a better soldier ; Let it appear so; make your vaunting true; And it shall please me well. For my own part I shall be glad to learn of noblemen. Cas. You wrong me every way; you wrong me Brutus ; I said an elder soldier, not a better. Did I say better? Bru. If you did I care not. Cas. When Cesar liv'd he durst not thus have mov'd me. Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him. Cas. I durst not! Bru. No. Cas. What! durst no tempt him ? Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love. threats; Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for. For certain sums of gold, which you denied me; And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring, To you for gold to pay my legions; Was that done like Cassius ? Should I have answered Caius Cassius so ? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, & To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, Gods, with all your thunderbolts, Dash him in pieces. Cas. I denied you not. Bru. You did. Cas. I did not; he was but a fool That brought my answer back, heart. Brutus hath riv'd my A friend should bear a friend's infirmities; Bru. I do not like your faults. Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they did appear As huge as high Olympus. Cas. Come Anthony! And young Octavius, come ! Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius: For Cassius is a weary of the world Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother; |