GLOSSMORE. Clever fellow, that Blount! [BLOUNT takes up the snuff-box and walks off with it; Old Member looks at him savagely. [BLOUNT, GLOSSMORE, FLAT, and GREEN, make up a table at the bottom of the Stage. SMOOTH. A thousand pardons, my dear Alfred,―ninety repique— ten cards!-game! EVELYN (passing a note to him). Game! Before we go on, one question. This is Thursday-how much do you calculate to win of me before Tuesday next? SMOOTH. Ce cher Alfred! He is so droll! EVELYN (writing in his pocket-book). Forty games a-night-four nights, minus Sunday—our usual stakes-that would be right, I think? SMOOTH (glancing over the account). Quite-if I win all-which is next to impossible. EVELYN. It shall be possible to win twice as much, on one condition. Can you keep a secret? SMOOTH. My dear Alfred, I have kept myself! I never inherited a farthing I never spent less than 4000l. a-year-and I never told a soul how I managed it. Hark ye, EVELYN. then a word with you-(they whisper). There's my precious son-in-law, that is to be, spending my consequence, and making a fool of himself. [Takes up the snuff-box; Old Member looks at him savagely. BLOUNT. I'm out. Flat, a poney on the odd twick. That's wight. Coming up counting his money.) Well, Sir John, you don't play? SIR JOHN. Play? no! Confound him-lost again! EVELYN. Hang the cards!-double the stakes! SMOOTH. Just as you please-done! SIR JOHN. Done, indeed! OLD MEMBER. Waiter!-the snuff-box. [Waiter takes it from SIR JOHN. BLOUNT. I've won eight points and the bets-I never lose-I never play in the Deadly Smooth set! [Takes up the snuff-box; Old Member as before. SIR JOHN (looking over SMOOTH's hand, and fidgeting backwards and forwards). Lord have mercy on us! point! What's the stakes? Smooth has seven for- his EVELYN. Don't disturb us-I only throw out four. Stakes, Sir John?-immense? Was ever such luck?-not a card for my point. Do stand back, Sir John-I'm getting irritable. OLD MEMBER. Waiter!-the snuff-box. BLOUNT. [Waiter brings it back. One hundred pounds on the next game, Evelyn? SIR JOHN. Nonsense-nonsense-don't disturb him! All the fishes come to the bait! Sharks and minnows all nibbling away at my son-in-law ! EVELYN. One hundred pounds, Blount? Ah! the finest gentleman is never too fine a gentleman to pick up a guinea. Done! Treble the stakes, Smooth! SIR JOHN. I'm on the rack! (seizing the snuff-box.) Be cool, Evelyn! take care, my dear boy! Be cool-be cool. EVELYN. What-what? You have four queens!-five to the king. Confound the cards!—a fresh pack. (Throws the cards behind him over SIR JOHN.) OLD MEMBER. Waiter!-the snuff-box. [Different members gather round. FIRST MEMBER. I never before saw Evelyn out of temper. He must be losing immensely. SECOND MEMBER. Yes, this is interesting! SIR JOHN. Interesting! there's a wretch! FIRST MEMBER. Poor fellow! he'll be ruined in a month! The devil's a joke to him! GLOSSMORE (slapping SIR JOHN on the back). A clever fellow that Smooth, Sir John, eh? (Takes up the snuff-box; Old Member as before.) 100l. on this game, Evelyn? EVELYN (half turning round). You! well done the Constitution! Yes, 1007. ! OLD MEMBER. Waiter!-the snuff-box. STOUT. I think I'LL venture!-2007. on this game, Evelyn? Ha! ha! ha!-Enlightenment and the Constitution on the same side of the question at last! Oh, Stout, Stout !— greatest happiness of the greatest number-greatest number, number one! Done, Stout!—2007. !-ha! ha! ha!-Deal, Smooth. Well done, Political Economy !-ha! ha! ha! SIR JOHN. Quite hysterical-drivelling! Ar'nt you ashamed of yourselves? His own cousins-all in a conspiracy—a perfect gang of them. [Members indignant. STOUT (to Members). Hush! he's to marry Sir John's daughter. OLD MEMBER. Waiter!-the snuff-box. EVELYN (rising in great agitation). No more, no more-I've done!-quite enough. Glossmore, Stout, Blount-I'll pay you to-morrow. I-IDeath!-this is ruinous! [Seizes the snuff-box; Old Member as before. 1 SIR JOHN. Ruinous? I dare say it is! What has he lost? what has he lost, Smooth? Not much? eh? eh? [Omnes gather round SMOOTH. SMOOTH. Oh, a trifle, dear John !-excuse me! We never tell our winnings. (To BLOUNT) HOW d'ye do, Fred ?—(To GLOSSMORE) By the by, Charles, don't you want to sell your house in Grosvenor-square ?-12,000l., eh? GLOSSMORE. Yes, and the furniture at a valuation. About 3000l. more. SMOOTH (looking over his pocket-book). Um!-Well, we'll talk of it. SIR JOHN. 12 and 3-15,000l. What a cold-blooded rascal it is!15,000l., Smooth? SMOOTH. Oh, the house itself is a trifle; but the establishmentI'm considering whether I have enough to keep it up, my dear John. OLD MEMBER. Waiter, the snuff-box! (Scraping it round and with a wry face)-And it's all gone! [Gives it to the Waiter to fill SIR JOHN (turning round). And it's all gone! EVELYN (starting up and laughing hysterically). Ha ha! all gone? not a bit of it. Smooth, this club is so noisy. Sir John, you are always in the way. Come to my house! come! Champagne and a broiled bone. Nothing venture, nothing have! The luck must turn, and by Jupiter we'll make a night of it! SIR JOHN. A night of it!!! For Heaven's sake, Evelyn! Evelyn!! -think what you are about!-think of Georgina's feelings! think of your poor lost mother!-think of the babes unborn! think of EVELYN. I'll think of nothing! Zounds!—you don't know what I have lost, man; it's all your fault, distracting my attention! Pshaw-pshaw! Out of the way, do! Come, Smooth. Ha! ha! a night of it, my boy-a night of it! [Exeunt SMOOTH and EVELyn. SIR JOHN (following). You must not, you shall not! Evelyn, my dear Evelyn! he's drunk-he's mad! Will no one send for the police? MEMBERS. Ha! ha! ha! Poor old Stingy Jack! OLD MEMBER (rising for the first time, and in a Waiter!-the snuff-box! END OF ACT III. |