ACT II.
Scene, a Room in an ordinary Lodging-house at Weimar—Puddingfield and Beefington discovered sitting at a small deal table, and playing at All-fours—Young Pottingen, at another table in the corner of the room, with a pipe in his mouth, and a Saxon mug of a singular shape beside him, which he repeatedly applies to his lips, turning back his head, and casting his eyes towards the firmament—at the last trial he holds the mug for some moments in a directly inverted position; then replaces it on the table with an air of dejection, and gradually sinks into a profound slumber—the pipe falls from his hand, and is broken.
Beef. I beg.
Pudd. [Deals three cards to Beefington.] Are you satisfied?
Beef. Enough; what have you?
Pudd. High, low, and the game.
Beef. D——n! ’Tis my deal. [Deals; turns up a knave.] One for his heels!
[Triumphantly.
Pudd. Is king highest?
Beef. No. [Sternly] The game is mine. The knave gives it me.