A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Xi Part 54

BUB. _Tu quoque_.

STAINES. Save you, sir.

BUB. _Et tu quoque_.

LONG. Good Master Bubble.

BUB. _Et tu quoque_.

 

SCAT. Is your name Master Bubble?

BUB. Master Bubble is my name, sir.

SCAT. G.o.d save you, sir.

BUB. _Et tu quoque_.

SCAT. I would be better acquainted with you.

BUB. And I with you.

SCAT. Pray, let us salute again.

BUB. With all my heart, sir.

LONG. Behold yonder the oak and the ivy, how they embrace.

W. RASH. Excellent acquaintance! they shall be the Gemini.

BUB. Shall I desire your name, sir.

SCAT. Master Scattergood.

BUB. Of the Scattergoods of London.

SCAT. No indeed, sir. Of the Scattergoods of Hamps.h.i.+re.

BUB. Good Master Scattergood.

STAINES. Come, gentlemen, here's dice.

SCAT. Please you, advance to the table?

BUB. No indeed, sir.

SCAT. Pray, will you go?

BUB. I will go, sir, over the world for your sake, but in courtesy I will not budge a foot.

_Enter_ NINNIHAMMER.

NIN. Here is the cash you sent me for: and, Master Rash, here is a letter from one of your sisters.

SPEND. I have the dice; set, gentlemen.

LONG. From which sister?

W. RASH. From the madcap, I know by the hand.

SPEND. For me, six.

OMNES. And six that.

STAINES. Nine; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8: eighteen s.h.i.+llings.

SPEND. What's yours, sir?

SCAT. Mine's a baker's dozen. Master Bubble, tell your money.

BUB. In good faith, I am but a simple gamester, and do not know what to do.

SCAT. Why, you must tell your money, and he'll pay you.

BUB. My money! I do know how much my money is, but he shall not pay me; I have a better conscience than so: what, for throwing the dice twice?

i' faith, he should have but a hard bargain of it.

W. RASH. Witty rascal! I must needs away.

LONG. Why, what's the matter?

W. RASH. Why, the lovers cannot agree: thou shalt along with me, and know all.

LONG. But first let me instruct thee in the condition of this gentleman: whom dost thou take him to be?

W. RASH. Nay, he's a stranger, I know him not.

LONG. By this light, but you do, if his beard were off: 'tis Staines.

W. RASH. The devil it is as soon! and what's his purpose in this disguise?

LONG. Why, cheating; do you not see how he plays upon his wors.h.i.+pful master and the rest?

W. RASH. By my faith, he draws apace.

SPEND. A pox upon these dice! give's a fresh bale.[180]

BUB. Ha, ha! the dice are not to be blamed; a man may perceive this is no gentlemanly gamester, by his chafing. Do you hear, my friend? fill me a gla.s.s of beer, and there's a s.h.i.+lling for your pains.

DRAWER. Your wors.h.i.+p shall, sir.