University of Virginia Library

Scene 2.

Another chamber in the tavern. A table at which Alford, Illworth, Wilton, Mowbray, and others are sitting at dice.
ALFORD.
It's my throw.

ILLWORTH.
He will have the same, I'll wager.

MOWBRAY.
Impossible! he's had it three times running;
Poor Wilton here can't speak.

WILTON.
Come, sir, will you throw.

ALFORD.
There 'tis again.

OMNES.
Again!

ILLWORTH.
I told you so;
I'd bet upon him, sir, for a thousand pounds;
He is the luckiest man in London.

WILTON.
And I
The most unlucky dog in all the world!
Some wine there, ho! some wine!

MOWBRAY
(aside).
Be careful, Wilton,
You mar your sole chance, if you lose your wits.

WILTON
(aloud).
Sir, when one's money's lost, one's wit's lost too;
It's gone already, sir. Bring me some wine!

[Servant brings in wine; all the gentlemen drink, except Alford, Illworth, and Mowbray.
ALFORD.
You should not drink, sir, when you play; you see
I do not.

ILLWORTH.
No, my lord, nor I.

MOWBRAY.
Nor I.
Now Wilton, throw, and good success befriend you!

WILTON.
Thanks, friend! (throws)
that's well!

ALFORD
(throws).
Yes, sir, and that is better.
Your stake is lost; what, will you play again?

WILTON
(rises).
Damnation seize the dice! I'm ruined, ruined.
Land mortgaged—money lost—my lord, my lord!

[Alford converses with other gentlemen; Mowbray walks up and down with Wilton, in great agitation.
MOWBRAY.
For God's sake, sir, be patient! 'tis not possible.

WILTON.
I say 'tis true; I saw it, and I know it.

MOWBRAY.
What, man! a lord play such a beggar's trick?

WILTON.
It was a beggar's trick; I'm sure he did it though!

ALFORD.
You seem disturbed, sir; I'm afraid your losses
Something outwent your expectations;
I shall be proud to give you your revenge.
Shall we play again?

WILTON.
Oh! by no means, my lord,
Your lordship's luck is more than I can cope with,
(Aside)
—Backed by your lordship's dexterous sleight of hand.

ALFORD.
I'm sorry, sir, my luck has been so great;
Indeed I'm mostly lucky; I could wish
I were not—I too often rob my friends.
Good evening, gentlemen, I see you're going;
Good Master Wilton, a good even to you.

WILTON
(aside).
The curses of a ruined man light on you!

[Exeunt Wilton, Mowbray, and the rest: manent Alford and Illworth.
ALFORD.
There's a fool who puts his finger in the candle,
And cries because 'tis burnt.

ILLWORTH.
I see, my lord,
You've not forgotten how to handle dice.

ALFORD.
No, Illworth:—and yet all's but nothing either;
Thou seest the goodly show I make in town here,
My carriages, my horses, and my servants.

ILLWORTH.
A comet's tail, a perfect blaze of splendour!

ALFORD.
All borrowed light, sir, for all that: I tell thee,
I'm the poorest man in Christendom; and save
When every now and then a money bag
Without a head, like this fellow, comes to be squeezed,
I've but a sorry time with the petitions
Of a scurvy set of villains they call creditors.
And whither art thou bound?

ILLWORTH.
My lord, to Florence.

ALFORD.
To Florence, ha! what the game's up in England?
Or hast thou run a step beyond thy compass?

ILLWORTH.
Fortune and credit are with me so wrecked,
That I must fly from England, which henceforth
Has nought but chains and prison bars for me.

ALFORD.
That's a pity! but you'll thrive in Florence, Illworth.
I'll give you letters to some friends of mine there;
Men of good purses, whom you'll find worth knowing.
You must not fail to find out old Matteo,
The man who makes the curious dice you wot of;
Somewhere in St. Peter's Street, near the Arno side.
I'll find the very name of the place for thee,
And give thee, too, an errand to him for me.
But that I've other quarry in pursuit,
I'd see fair Florence once again with thee.

ILLWORTH.
Your lordship means to stay in London?

ALFORD.
No.
I'm bound to Surrey; I shall visit there
A certain judge, who hath a pretty wife,
Upon some special business.

ILLWORTH.
Of his own,
Or yours, my lord? Do you know the lady?

ALFORD.
Yes,
After a fashion, I admired her once;
'Twas thought she was an heiress, when I did so.
She lost her fortune, and, I thought, her looks;
She's married now—and has grown fair again.

ILLWORTH.
Poor lady! I should say, poor gentleman!
Does your lordship purpose to remain there long?

ALFORD.
Umph! I can't tell, sir, till I see the lady.
I may have Cæsar's fortune, or I may
Sit ten years down before a female Troy:
I fear not much the latter chance, however.

ILLWORTH.
No; your experience has not taught you fear.
The conqueror of our proudest city beauties
Could scarce be foiled by a simple country mistress.

ALFORD.
She is not country bred; dost think I'm whining
After some rosy Amaryllida?
This lady would have shone a dazzling star
In the brightest court in Europe; she is perfect!
So fair, so stately, so majestical,
I never saw her peer!

ILLWORTH.
Why, my good lord,
You're sure in love.

ALFORD.
Perhaps I am, a little,
But not enough to puzzle me, good Illworth.
Farewell! good speed to Florence! and don't forget
The hand thus, and they never fall amiss.

[Exeunt.