rthing less.

MR GOUR. It is too much; a shilling were good game.

MRS GOUR. No, we'll be ill-huswives once;
You have been oft ill husbands: let's alone.

MR BAR. Wife, will you play so much?

MRS BAR. I would be loth to be so frank a gamester
As Mistress Goursey is; and yet for once
I'll play a pound a game as well as she.

MR BAR. Go to, you'll have your will
[_Offer to go from them_.

MRS BAR. Come, there's my stake.

MRS GOUR. And there's mine.

MRS BAR. Throw for the dice. Ill luck! then they are yours.

MR BAR. Master Goursey, who says that gaming's bad,
When such good angels[218] walk 'twixt every cast?

MR GOUR. This is not noble sport, but royal play.

MR BAR. It must be so, where royals[218] walk so fast.

MRS BAR. Play right, I pray.

MRS GOUR. Why, so I do.

MRS BAR. Where stands your man?

MRS GOUR. In his right place.

MRS BAR. Good faith, I think ye play me foul an ace.

MR BAR. No, wife, she plays ye true.

MRS BAR. Peace, husband, peace; I'll not be judg'd by you.

MRS GOUR. Husband, Master Barnes, pray, both go walk!
We cannot play if standers-by do talk.

MR GOUR. Well, to your game; we will not trouble ye.
[_Go from them_.

MRS GOUR. Where stands your man now?

MRS BAR. Doth he not stand right?

MRS GOUR. It stands between the points.

MRS BAR. And that's my spite.
But yet methinks the dice runs much uneven.
That I throw but deuce-ace and you eleven.

MRS GOUR. And yet you see that I cast down the hill.

MRS BAR. Ay, I beshrew ye, 'tis not with my will.

MRS GOUR. Do ye beshrew me?

MRS BAR. No, I beshrew the dice,
That turn you up more at once than me at twice.

MRS GOUR. Well, you shall see them turn for you anon.

MRS BAR. But I care not for them, when your game is done.

MRS GOUR. My game! what game?

MRS BAR. Your game, your game at tables.

MRS GOUR. Well, mistress, well; I have read Aesop's fables,
And know your moral meaning well enough.

MRS BAR. Lo, you'll be angry now! here's[219] good stuff.

MR GOUR. How now, women?[220] who hath won the game?

MRS GOUR. Nobody yet.

MR BAR. Your wife's the fairest for't.

MRS BAR. Ay, in your eye.

MRS GOUR. How do you mean?

MRS BAR. He holds you fairer for't than I.

MRS GOUR. For what, forsooth?

MRS BAR. Good gamester, for your game.

MR BAR. Well, try it out; 'tis all but in the bearing[221].

MRS BAR. Nay, if it come to be