PAWKINS. Pick hay? I knows nuffin about pick hay; I was werry nigh being sent to pick oakum!
DE W. Well, what shall we play? Suppose we cut for a shilling a game.
PAWKINS. A shilling! Come! I was thinking of a fourpenny bit; but there’s nothing like pluck. I say, I hopes you keeps your temper when you loses, for I give you fair warning, I shan’t let you go till I’ve got something out of you.
DE W. Affected candour! but it won’t do.
(they go up to table, L.—DE WINDSOR takes cards out of drawers of table and they sit—DE WINDSOR, L. and PAWKINS, R., and they begin cutting cards—staking money as they play.
PAWKINS. Well, you are a going it, you are—(plays again—aside) Gov’ner can’t be coming the old soldier! Oh, it’s a do and no mistake! I must have a eye on this old bird.
Enter WHITEWASH, C. from L.
WHITE. Thank heaven I’m free again! What! cards! the devil! (steals up to table, and whispers to PAWKINS) Lose!
PAWKINS. Eh?
WHITE. (R.) Lose, I say.