Yet e’en their painful efforts to exist,
Some Knaves in heart, as yet unskilled to cheat,
With secret whisper when a piece is missed,
Will strive from pique, or envy, to defeat.
Their names, their means, on which at large they dwell,
Invade at intervals the startled ear,
And many an anecdote in point they tell,
That teaches gaping novices to fear.
For who, to damn’d fatality a prey,
Gives his last piece, without concern or pain,