'It was with the view and in the hope that marriage would cure his propensity for the gaming table, that his father was so anxious to see him united to Caroline; and it was solely on account of his marriage with that princess constituting the only condition of his debts being paid by the country, that he agreed to lead her to the hymeneal altar.

'The unfortunate results of this union are but too well known, not only as regarded the parties themselves, but as regarded society generally. To the gambling habits, then, of the Prince of Wales are to be ascribed all the unhappiness which he entailed on the unfortunate Caroline, and the vast amount of injury which the separation from her, and the subsequent trial, produced on the morals of the nation generally.'

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CHAPTER V. ODDITIES AND WITTICISMS OF GAMBLERS.

OSTENTATIOUS GAMESTERS.

Certain grandees and wealthy persons, more through vanity or weakness than generosity, have sacrificed their avidity to ostentation—some by renouncing their winnings, others by purposely losing. The greater number of such eccentrics, however, seem to have allowed themselves to be pillaged merely because they had not the generosity or the courage to give away what was wanted.

The Cardinal d'Este, playing one day with the Cardinal de Medicis, his guest, thought that his magnificence required him to allow the latter to win a stake of 10,000 crowns—'not wishing,' he said, 'to make him pay his reckoning or allow him to depart unsatisfied.' Brantome calls this 'greatness;' the following is an instance of what he calls 'kindness.'

'Guilty or innocent,' he says, 'everybody was well received at the house of this cardinal, who kept an open table at Rome for the French chevaliers. These gentlemen having appropriated a portion of his plate, it was proposed to search them: 'No, no!' said the cardinal, 'they are poor companions who have only their sword, cloak, and crucifixes; they are brave fellows; the plate will be a great benefit to them, and the loss of it will not make me poorer.'

Vigneul de Marville tells us of certain extravagant abbes, named Ruccellai and Frangipani, who carried their ostentation to such a pitch as to set gold in dishes on their tables when entertaining their gaming companions! Were any of these base enough to put their hands in and help themselves? This is not stated by the historian. These two Italian abbes were ne plus ultras in luxury and effeminacy. In the reign of Henry IV., they laid before their guests vermilion dishes filled with gloves, fans, coins to play with after the repast, essences and perfumes.(25) I wonder if the delightful scent called Frangipani, vouchsafed to us by Rimmel and Piesse and Lubin, was named after this exquisite ecclesiastic of old?

(25) Melanges d' Hist. et de Lit.