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out of all season, time, and place.In the very midst of the game, she begins-" Lard, Ma'am, I was apprehensive I should not be able to wait on your ladyship- -my poor little dog, Pompey-the sweetest thing in the world!-A spade led! There's the knave.-I was fetching a walk, Me'em, the other morning in the Park--Ame frosty morning it was. I love frosty weather of all things-let me look at the last trick- -and so, Me'em, little Pompey-and if your ladyship was to see the dear creature pinched with the frost, and mincing his steps along the Mall with his pretty little innocent face--I vow I don't know what to play.--And so, Me'em, while I was talking to Captain Flimsey-your ladyship knows Captain Flimsey.--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 chest-the doctor would not advise him to venture out till the wound is healed, for fear of an inflammation. Pray what's trumps ?"
Sir C. My dear, you'd make a most excellent actress. Lady R. Well, now, let's go to rest-but, Sir Charles, how shockingly you played that last rubber, when I stood looking over you!
Sir C. My love, I played the truth of the game. Lady R. No indeed, my dear, you played it wrong. Sir C. Po! Nonsense! You don't understand it. Lady R. I beg your pardon, I'm allowed to play better 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.
Lady R. Oh! No, no, no-I say it was the diamond.
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 have 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 world-I'll 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 sixno, no-they were seven, and we nine-the beauty of the play was to
then, you know
Lady 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. Hear me, I say. Will you hear me?
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 chatiot 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 needles, 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 Racketthus it stood- -the trump being led, it was then my busi
Lady R. To play the diamond, to be sure.
Sir C. I have done with you for ever; and so you may tell your father.
Lady R. What a passion the gentleman is in! Ha! ba! I promise him I'll not give up my judgment.
Re-enter 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 world- -we were nine, and
Lady R. And for that very reason, you know the clab 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 for ever, 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 diamon as not the play; and here I take my final leave of you-alks back as fast as he can] I am resolved upon it; and know the club was not the best in the house.
VIII. Brutus and Cassius.
Cas. THAT you have wrong'd me doth appear in thing
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,
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,
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. Awly, slight man!
Cas. Is 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 breaks.
You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Cas. Is it 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 noble men.
Cas You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus ;
I said an elder soldier, not a better.
Bru. If you did I care not.
Cas. When Cæsar liv'd he durst not thus have mov'd me.
Cas. What! Durst not tempt him!
Bru. For your life you durst not.
Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love.
I may do that I shall be sorry for.
Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for.
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
To you for gold to pay my legions;
Which you denied me. 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,
Cas. I denied you not.
Bru. You did.
Cas. I did not; he was but a fool
That brought my answer back. Brutus hath riv'd my heart. A friend should bear a friend's infirmities;
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
Bru. I do not. Still you practise them on me.
Bru. I do not like your faults.
Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults.
Cas. Come Anthony! and young Octavius, come!