Rookwood Part 60

Vith _mawleys_[102] raised, Tom bent his back, As if to _plant_ a heavy thwack: Vile Jem, with neat left-handed _stopper_, Straight threatened Tommy with a _topper_; 'Tis all my eye! no _claret_ flows, No _facers_ sound--no smashing blows-- Five minutes pa.s.s, yet not a _hit_, How can it end, pals?--vait a bit.

_Ri, tol, lol, &c._

Each cove vas _teazed_ with double duty, To please his backers, yet _play booty_;[103]

Ven, luckily for Jem, a _teller_ Vos planted right upon his _smeller_; Down dropped he, stunned; ven time vas called, Seconds in vain the _seconds_ bawled; The _mill_ is o'er, the crosser _crost_, The loser's _von_, the vinner's _lost_!

_Ri, tol, lol, &c._

The party a.s.sumed once more a lively air, and the gla.s.s was circulated so freely, that at last a final charge drained the ample bowl of its contents.

"The best of friends must part," said d.i.c.k; "and I would willingly order another whiff of punch, but I think we have all had _enough to satisfy us_, as you milling coves have it, Zory! Your one eye has got a drop in it already, old fellow; and, to speak the truth, I must be getting into the saddle without more delay, for I have a long ride before me. And now, friend Jerry, before I start, suppose you tip us one of your merry staves; we haven't heard your pipe to-day, and never a cross cove of us all can throw off so prime a chant as yourself. A song! a song!"

"Ay, a song!" reiterated King and the Magus.

"You do me too much honor, gemmen," said Jerry, modestly, taking a pinch of snuff; "I am sure I shall be most happy. My chants are all of a sort.

You must make all due allowances--hem!" And, clearing his throat, he forthwith warbled

THE MODERN GREEK

(_Not_ translated from the Romaic.)

Come, gemmen, name, and make your game, See, round the ball is spinning.

Black, red, or blue, the colors view, _Une_, _deux_, _cinque_, 'tis beginning, Then make your game, The color name, While round the ball is spinning.

This sleight of hand my _flat_ shall _land_ While _covered_ by my _bonnet_,[104]

I _plant_ my ball, and boldly call, Come make your game upon it!

Thus rat-a-tat!

I land my flat!

'Tis black--not red--is winning.

At gay _roulette_ was never met A lance like mine for _bleeding_!

I'm ne'er _at fault_, at nothing halt, All other _legs_ preceding.

To all awake, I never shake A _mag_[105] unless I nip it.

_Blind-hookey_ sees how well I squeeze The _well-packed_ cards in shuffling.

Ecarte, whist, I never missed, A nick the _broads_[106] while ruffling.

Mogul or loo, The same I do, I am down to trumps as trippet!

_French hazard_ ta'en, _I nick the main_, Was ne'er so prime a _caster_.

No _crabs_ for me, I'm fly, d'ye see; The bank shall change its master.

Seven _quatre_, _trois_, The stakes are high!

Ten _mains_! ten _mains_ are mine, pals!

At _Rouge et Noir_, you _h.e.l.lite_[107] choir I'll make no bones of stripping; One glorious _coup_ for me shall _do_, While they may deal each _pip_ in.

_Trente-un-apres_ Ne'er clogs my way; The game--the game's divine, pals.

At billiards set, I make my bet, I'll _score_ and win the _rub_, pals; I miss my _cue_, my _hazard_, too, But yet my foe I'll drub, pals.

That _cannon-twist_, I ne'er had missed, Unless to suit my views, pals.

To make all right, the match look _tight_, This trick, you know, is done, pals; But now be gay, I'll _show_ my play-- Hurrah! the game is won, pals.

No hand so fine, No wrist like mine, No odds I e'er refuse, pals.

Then choose your game; whate'er you name, To me alike all offers; Chic-hazard, whist, whate'er you list, Replenish quick your coffers.

Thus, rat-a-tat!

I _land_ my _flat_!

To every purse I _speak_, pals.

_Cramped boxes_ 'ware, all's right and fair, _Barred b.a.l.l.s_ I _bar_ when goaded; The deuce an ace is out of place!

The deuce a die is _loaded_!

Then make your game, Your color name; Success attend the _Greek_, pals.

"Bravo, Jerry--bravissimo!" chorused the party.

"And now, pals, farewell!--a long farewell!" said d.i.c.k, in a tone of theatrical valediction. "As I said before, the best friends must separate. We may soon meet again, or we now may part forever. We cannot command our luck; but we can make the best of the span allotted to us.

You have your game to play. I have mine. May each of us meet with the success he deserves."

"Egad! I hope not," said King. "I'm afraid, in that case, the chances would be against us."

"Well, then, the success we antic.i.p.ate, if you prefer it," rejoined d.i.c.k. "I have only to observe one thing more, namely, that I must insist upon standing Sam upon the present occasion. Not a word. I won't hear a syllable. Landlord, I say--what oh!" continued d.i.c.k, stepping out of the arbor. "Here, my old Admiral of the White, what's the reckoning?--what's to pay, I say?"

"Let ye know directly, sir," replied mine host of the Falstaff.

"Order my horse--the black mare," added d.i.c.k.

"And mine," said King, "the sorrel colt. I'll ride with you a mile or two on the road, d.i.c.k; perhaps we may stumble upon something."

"Very likely."

"We meet at twelve, at D'Osyndar's, Jerry," said King, "if nothing happens."

"Agreed," responded Juniper.

"What say you to a rubber at bowls, in the mean time?" said the Magus, taking his everlasting pipe from his lips.

Jerry nodded acquiescence. And while they went in search of the implements of the game, Turpin and King sauntered gently on the green.

It was a delicious evening. The sun was slowly declining, and glowed like a ball of fire amid the thick foliage of a neighboring elm.

Whether, like the robber Moor, Tom King was touched by this glorious sunset, we pretend not to determine. Certain it was that a shade of inexpressible melancholy pa.s.sed across his handsome countenance, as he gazed in the direction of Harrow-on-the Hill, which, lying to the west of the green upon which they walked, stood out with its pointed spire and lofty college against the ruddy sky. He spoke not. But d.i.c.k noticed the pa.s.sing emotion.

"What ails you, Tom?" said he, with much kindness of manner--"are you not well, lad?"

"Yes, I am well enough," said King; "I know not what came over me, but looking at Harrow, I thought of my school days, and what I was _then_, and that bright prospect reminded me of my boyish hopes."

"Tut--tut," said d.i.c.k, "this is idle--you are a man now."

"I know I am," replied Tom, "but I _have_ been a boy. Had I any faith in presentiments, I should say this is the last sunset I shall ever see."

"Here comes our host," said d.i.c.k, smiling. "I've no presentiment that this is the last bill I shall ever pay."

The bill was brought and settled. As Turpin paid it, the man's conduct was singular, and awakened his suspicions.