Long. But first let me instruct thee in the condition of this gentleman: whom dost thou take him to be?
W. Rash. Nay, he's a stranger, I know him not.
Long. By this light, but you do, if his beard were off: 'tis Staines.
W. Rash. The devil it is as soon! and what's his purpose in this disguise?
Long. Why, cheating; do you not see how he plays upon his worshipful master and the rest?
W. Rash. By my faith, he draws apace.
Spend. A pox upon these dice! give's a fresh bale.[180]
Bub. Ha, ha! the dice are not to be blamed; a
man may perceive this is no gentlemanly gamester, by his chafing. Do you hear, my friend? fill me a glass of beer, and there's a shilling for your pains.