Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/413

 "Madam, you have no cause to flounce, I swear I saw you thrice renounce." "And truly, madam, I know when Instead of five, you scor'd me ten. Spadillo here has got a mark; A child may know it in the dark: I guess'd the hand; it seldom fails: I wish some folks would pair their nails." While thus they rail, and scold, and storm, It passes but for common form: But, conscious that they all speak true, And give each other but their due, It never interrupts the game, Or makes them sensible of shame. The time too precious how to waste, The supper gobbled up in haste; Again afresh to cards they run, As if they had but just begun. But I shall not again repeat, How oft they squabble, snarl, and cheat. At last they hear the watchman knock, "A frosty morn — past four o'clock." The chairmen are not to be found, "Come, let us play the other round." Now all in haste they huddle on Their hoods, their cloaks, and get them gone; But, first, the winner must invite The company to morrow night. Unlucky madam, left in tears, (Who now again quadrille forswears) With empty purse, and aching head, Steals to her sleeping spouse to bed.