About some trifling wager.
'Says Redhead, "One to five, this pea
(And in the fire he cast it);
Will bounce against your Grace's knee,
As soon as fire shall blast it."
'"Done!" Cæsar cry'd.—The hot pea bounc'd,
Outrageously disloyal,
And with most trait'rous aim it pounc'd
Against the forehead royal.
'"Knave!" Cæsar roar'd, and Cæsar look'd