III The Game of Dice
Tull. How grubby and dirty they are. They are not free from fluff. Nor are they polished. Cast!
Sci. For the first throw!
Tull. I am first. What are we playing?
Sci. We are playing for trousers buttons (astrigmenta—lit. points).
Lent. I don’t want to lose mine, for if I did I should be beaten at home by my tutor.
Tull. What are you willing to lose then, if you are beaten?
Lent. Some good raps with the fingers on me.
Mother. What is that lying on the ground? You are spoiling all your clothes and boots on the dirtiest of the ground. Why don’t you first sweep the floor and then sit down? Bring the broom here!
Tull. What have we decided on?
Sci. One needle for each point in the game.
Tull. Certainly it should be two.
Lent. I have no needles. If you like I will deposit cherry-stones instead of needles.
Tull. Get away. Let me and you play, Scipio.
Sci. I will risk it—to cast my needle on luck.
Tull. Give me the dice in my hand, so that I may cast first. Look, I have won the stake.
Sci. You haven’t. For you were not playing then in serious.
Tull. Whoever plays seriously? It is as if you spoke of a white Moor.
Sci. You may cavil as much as you like. At any rate you are not going to have my nuts.
Tull. Come now, I will let you have the throw. Let us play now for the stake, and may you have good luck!
Sci. You are beaten.
Tull. Take it.
Lent. Let me have the dice.
Tull. Let’s stake all on this throw.
Lent. I don’t mind.
A Servant. To your meal, boys. Will you never make an end of your games?
Tull. Now just as we are getting started, she talks of stopping!