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Done out of French.

LONDON, Printed for John Newton at the Three Pidgeons over againſt the Inner Temple Gate, in Fleet-ſtreet. 1688.


THE Author of that little French Novel (whereof this is a Tranſlation) in his Preface to the Reader, does aſſure him, that there is not any one Character in the whole Piece, which was drawn by the Life; and that he de­ſign'd it no otherwiſe then as a general Repreſentation of thoſe many and great Extravagancies which Baſſett had occaſion ' in France, and which were the Grounds of a late Edict; whereby not only that, but ſome other Games of the like Na­ture, were publickly forbid.

Now if he cou'd ſ; ay ſo, how much more may the Tranſlator; who, being an abſolute Stranger to this Game, as well as all o­thers, cannot reaſonably be thought to have deſign'd this as a Reflection upon any Perſon whatever, eſpecially ſince he did not think fit to lay the Scene in England. The Paſtime of a few idle Hours, and the de­ſire of preſerving that very lit­tle ſmattering in the French Language which he can pretend to, was all the Inducement or De­ſign he had in undertaking this preſent Tranſlation; wherein (tho' he never intended it as a literal one,) there are but very few places, and thoſe too little material, that vary from the Ori­ginal.



ONE Day at Madam Gendrill's at Baſſett, he that kept the Bank taillied with the great­eſt Fortune in the World; he never loſt ſo much as one Sept­et-le-va, and ſeldom the Paroli, inſomuch that he broke all the Setters; ſome were complaining and ſighing, others crying, fretting, and ſwearing; every2 one, in fine, had ſome particular way or other to expreſs the great Concern he was in; a­mongſt whom Madam Landroze bore no ſmall part, ſhe having been a conſiderable loſer; and that which vex'd her moſt, was to loſe the ſame Card four times in one Deal. The Marquiſs of Roziers, who was in Love with her, being extreamly afflicted to ſee her ſo concern'd, Madam, ſaid he, ſet the reſt of your Mo­ney upon the Knave, I believe 'twill prove a good Card, ha­ving loſt twice already. You have never yet been lucky to me, Sir, ſaid ſhe, yet I'll ven­ture for once; the Knave won a Sonica. Pray Madam, ſaid the Marquiſs, make the Paroli upon the ſame Card. Once more, Sir, ſaid ſhe, I muſt needs tell you, you were3 not born to bring me good Luck, yet however I'll venture; the Knave won again. Now, Sir, ſaid ſhe, upon what Card ſhall we make the Sep-et-le-va? Ma­dam, replyed the Marquiſs, ve­ry coldly, I was never born to bring you good Luck, therefore be pleas'd to chuſe one your ſelf. Pray, Sir, ſaid ſhe, think of a Card quickly. Madam, ſaid the Marquiſs, very heavily, you will certainly loſe it; ſhe made the Sept-et-le-va upon the Ace, the Ace loſt; whereupon ſhe roſe up on a ſudden, tore the Ace, and all her Book; and throwing the Pieces at the Mar­quiſs, I ſhou'd think it ſtrange, ſaid ſhe to him, in an angry and diſdainful way, if in all my Life, I ſhou'd thrive in any one thing, wherein I have to do with you; believe me, we two were4 not born but to be a Plague to each other. The Marquiſs tryed to pacifie her, and proffer'd hehis Hand to wait on her home; but ſhe refuſed it very Scorn­fully, without ſo much as ta­king the leaſt notice of him. This Carriage of hers troubled him extreamly, and threw him into a deep Melancholy, which his Friend the Count de Charlois having perceiv'd, roſe from Baſ­ſett, and went away with him in his Coach.

When ſoon after, as the Mar­queſs was lolling very thought­fully, the Count turning that way, and looking ſtedfaſtly upon him, ſaid to him, Unhappy Wretch that thou art, to have a concern for one who does ſo little de­ſerve it; a ſilly Coquette creature, whom none but your ſelf wou'd ever have thought of. What do5 you find in her, continu'd he, that is taking? She is lean, ſhe has a wide Mouth. What, ſaid the Marquiſs, intetrupting him, do I ſee in her that is taking? Who ever ſaw more lovely and charming blew Eyes then hers are? Was there ever a clearer and a more delicate Complexion, a whiter and more even ſett of Teeth, a better proportion'd Noſe, or a more exact and eaſie ſhape then ſhe has? Call you thoſe lovely and charming Eyes, re­ply'd the Count, which are ſo ſunk into her Head; or that Com­plexion delicate and clear, which ſometimes is ſo hideous yellow? Her Noſe is inclin'd to red, or looks blewiſh at the beſt: If her Teeth are white and even, 'tis that ſhe uſes Opiate Powders, and the File ſo often. Is that to bs exact­ly and eaſily ſhap'd, to have ſuch6 an aukard gate as ſhe has? Her Neck, I muſt confeſs is white; but yet, were it not for the Tay­lor, 'tis ſuch a one as no body wou'd ſee it. She's a Wit 'tis true, but a very dangerous, and ill­natur'd one. If any Woman is Handſome, Airy, or any ways accompliſh'd, ſhe can't indure her, but in all Companies where e're ſhe comes, is raiſing a thouſand ſpiteful Stories of her. She hates all Woman-kind; but then, to make amends, ſhe's is in love with all Mankind: And I believe you are the only Man ſhe ever uſed ill; and that for no other reaſon, but becauſe you have too much worth in you; a thing no ways agreeable to her humour. For my part I declare, if heretofore I have had any inclination for her, it has been a very ſlight one, and ſuch as never went near to my7 Heart. Count ſaid the Marquiſs, I'me told you two are not very well together. Troth reply'd the Count, very briskly, becauſe I'me grown weary of her. She's a ſtrange humour'd Woman, and 'tis almoſt impoſſible to pleaſe her. When I us'd to viſit her I look'd as thin and lean as a Skele­ton. What I now tell you, is not out of any ſpleen to her, but a real concern I have to ſee you ſo deſperately ingaged, and a deſire to cure you of ſo unreaſonable and ſo unfortunate a Paſſion. A­las! dear Count, reply'd the Marquiſs; little do you know my heart in this matter; I am not my own Maſter as you think; my reaſon is quite given up, and whatever Difficulties and Argu­ments ſhe oppoſes to my Paſſion, ſerve but to make her more abſo­lutely imperious. Nay, what8 way is there in the World, that I have not tryed to cure my ſelf of the Paſſion I have for Madam Landroze; and yet all, alas! has ſerv'd only to make me more deſ­perately in love with her. How often have I, quite diſheartn'd by her ſlights, with Tears in my Eyes, ſaid to her, Farewel Ma­dam, and for ever farewel? Once I took up a reſolution ne­ver to ſee her more: but ſcarce cou'd I in pain, linger out two whole days in that mind, but I was forc'd to take up a new one. I am not, I wou'd then ſay, ſuf­ficiently reveng'd of her in not ſeeing her any more; 'twere fit ſhe ſhou'd ſee her ſelf ſlighted, and me prefer another before her.

I went to Maſs to the Petits Ca­pucins, where I knew ſhe us'd to go every day. I will ſalute her, thought I, but it ſhall be with9 that coldneſs, and indifferency, that ſhe ſhall ſoon perceive how little I value her; and if I ſhow any Concern or Complaiſance for any body, it ſhall be for Ma­dam Rocheron her mortal Enemy. ah! thought I, ſo ſhall I be fuf­ficiently reveng'd. But oh! the moment I ſpy'd her out in the Church, I forgot all my former Reſolutions; and inſtead of a cold and a diſdainful Behaviour, I ſaluted her with all the ſubmiſ­ſive and languiſhing Looks ima­ginable.

As I was diſcourſing with Ma­dam Rocheron, I obſerv'd a Sha­green in Madam Landroze's Looks: immediately, forgetting the De­ſign that brought me thither, I flew away in a great hurry, and confuſion, without being able to beg her Pardon. When I came home, reflecting upon my weak­neſs;10 fly, fly, ſaid I, every place where Madam Landroze is: there is nothing but abſence can cure me. The Court was at Fontain­bleau. I left Paris, and went thither, where I ſought out for a hundred Paſtimes, and Diver­ſions, to make me forget her; Walking, Gaming, Treating and Gallanting the Ladies, was the conſtant buſineſs of the day. Yet wou'd you wonder to ſee how this cruel Paſſion did ſlily ſhuffle it ſelf into the midſt of all my Diverſions. I had not gone an hundred Yards into the Wood at Fontainbleau, when falling into a deep Melancholy, my Head ran of nothing but Madam Landroze, and I wiſh'd to meet her there, that I might reproach her with In­gratit ude. When ever I enter­tain'd any of the Ladies with a­ny piece of Gallantry, I inſenſi­bly11 addreſs'd my ſelf to her, who had moſt of the Air of Madam Landroze. At Baſſett, at the Queen's, or any where elſe, when I have loſt a Paroli or Sept-et-le-va; alas! ſaid I to my ſelf, Can ſo unfortunate a Crea­ture as I am, ever hope to have good luck; when ever I have won, theſe are not the Joys, thought I, that can make me happy. In the midſt of great Dainties, the delicate Flavour of the richeſt Wines imaginable, is no otherwiſe pleaſant to me, then as it ſerves to amuze me with the vain Thoughts of what a concern ſhe will be in to have loſt me, and of being capable by that means to make her ſenſi­ble of the loſs.

All the while the Court was at Fontainbleau; I ſpent my time ſo miſerably as I tell you; and by12 this way of living. I was grown ſo moap'd, and ſo fall'n away, that no body cou'd have known me. Being ſenſible at laſt, that none of theſe Remedies were ſufficient to cure me; I reſolv'd to return to Paris, and throwing my ſelf at her Feet, to ask her Pardon. But after I had given her a faith­ful Account how diſmally I ſpent my time at Fontainbleau; wou'd you believe what an Anſwer this Ungrateful Creature made me? Monſieur Marquiſs ſaid ſhe, you have made good uſe of the time you ſpent in reading Romances, and have an admirable way of repreſenting the Characters of thoſe great Heroes. Oh cruel Creature! was ever the like ſaid? Faith Marquiſs, ſaid the Count ve­ry briskly, ſhall I tell you my mind plainly; you are a meer Novice in this Affair. Alas, what good13 can you hope to make of ſuch Florid Diſcourſes: the Ladies of this Age, (eſpecially ſuch as Madam Landroze) are for ſome­thing more ſubſtantial, and to the purpoſe. Are you in Love with a Woman, and wou'd you that ſhe ſhou'd return it? find out what ſhe takes moſt delight in, and make your Court to her that way. Is ſhe Muſically gi­ven? entertain her with publick Muſick-meetings, and treat her often at the Opera. If ſhe loves Play, go halfs with her, and be ſure never to let her want Mo­ney. Do's ſhe love fine Cloaths, and to be always well dreſs'd? Preſent her with the Richeſt, and moſt faſhionable Silks you can meet with. If ſhe loves to eat well, make her frequent enter­tainments; and, as often as14 may be; let 'em be given out of Town; and then if at any time, you find her in better hu­mour, and more tranſported then ordinary, make uſe of the opportunity; bear up to her briskly, and be not frighted with the ſhew of a forc'd Mode­ſty: if ſhe's angry beg her Par­don, and lay the blame upon the violence of your Paſſion: Wo­men are always eaſie to forgive Affronts of that nature: As ſoon as ever you are reconcil'd, be not afraid, but at her again, and try your Fortune three or four times more; till at laſt, take my word for't, you'l find that Happy and Critical Minute you look for. Count reply'd the Marquiſs, you talk like an Errant Debaucheè: Know you not, that I naturally hate Debauchery, and deſire no­thing further of Madam Landroze,15 then to make my ſelf Maſter of her Heart? Alas! Poor Young Man, ſaid the Count, a Woman's Senſes and Affections always go together; So that whoever plea­ſes the former, may be ſure not to miſs of the latter. Well, well, Count, reply'd the Mar­quiſs, you, that pretend to be ſo bold, how wou'd you, were you in my place, behave your ſelf before Madam Landroze? How? ſaid the Count, very eaſily: She loves Play, and particularly Baſſett; keep a Bank at her Houſe, do you-tailliee, and let her be your Crouppier. I am acquainted with the Chevalier Briere, he is a cunning profeſs'd Gameſter, knows all the Gameſters about Paris, and wou'd be glad with all his Heart to go in the Bank: He wall bring you as many Game­ſters as you deſire. Madam16 Landroze is Covetous, and the advantage the Bank has over the Setters, is ſo great, that at the long run, you will infallibly be a conſiderable winner. This is the way you muſt take to win her Heart. By this means you will have an opportunity of ſee­ing her ev'ry day, and of rally­ing with her upon all thoſe who loſe their Money. As for the Chevalier, 'tis no matter whe­ther he knows the Intrigue or no; for he has an admirable way of making Diſcoveries. In fine, you will be allow'd a great freedom, and have a thouſand little ſecrets told you; and with­out jeſting, the Money ſhe will win in going with you, will make you appear more amiable in her ſight, and ſhe conſequent­ly more ſenſible of the Paſſion you have for her. Ah! Count,17 reply'd the Marquiſs, what a Propoſal have you made me, I have ſo great a Paſſion for Ma­dam Landroze, that I cannot en­dure the very thoughts of it; to keep a Bank at her houſe, and make it a publick Gameing Ordinary, and Rendevouze for all ſorts of People, where every Rake-helly Sharper of the Town, and common Strumpet, is Hail-fellow-well-met with Perſons of the beſt Reputation and Quali­ty, to expoſe her every Minute to a thouſand Foolleries, and impertinent Diſputes and Quar­rels: Fie! fie! 'tis a thing I can't endure to think of. Troth, re­ply'd the Count, 'tis pleaſant to ſee how wonderful nice, and ten­der you are of Madam Landroze's Reputation; when, at this very inſtant, People of the beſt Qua­ilty in all Paris, make no ſcruple18 of having Baſſett at their Houſes; and I know ſome of very good Faſhion, that neither care for Baſſett, or any other ſort of Gameing, and yet are deſirous to have it at their Houſes for the Profit of the Card-money; and if you'll do ſo for her, take my Word for't ſhe'll never ſcruple it. Will you hold an hundred Pounds, continued the Count, that ſhe does not agree to't, when you have once convinc'd her that there's Money to be got by't? All Women are Covetous, and ſhe the moſt in the World. In fine, the Count made it ſo plain and clear to the Marquiſs before he left him, that he went away with a Reſolution of ſetting up a Bank at Madam Lan­droze's

The next Morning the Mar­quiſs of Rozier's went to her19 Leveè, where having diverted the peeviſh humour ſhe was in (as being but juſt up) he began to demonſtrate to her how diſ­advantageous a Game Baſſett was to the Setters, and how certain­ly advantageous to them that keep the Bank, when there were a great many that play'd. That at Venice, where Baſſett was firſt found out, the Venetians Farmed the ſole Power and Right of keeping the Bank, at Fifty or Sixty thouſand Crowns a year, which cou'd never turn to Ac­count, were not the advantages which the Bank has infinitely great, as was eaſie to be com­prehended; for Example, ſaid he, there are Thirteen different Cards; ſuppoſe then, that the Gameſters ſet upon the Thirteen different Cards, it muſt neceſſari­ly follow, that the laſt Card but20 one is clear Gains to the Bank, in that the Dealer cannot looſe the laſt Card, which is a ne vpas; beſides, if all the Twelve Cards go every Deal, let 'em looſe or win, one Card or other of the Thirteen will be faſs'd; Judge therefore how great an advantage the Bank has. I muſt confeſs it does not ſo happen, that they ſet upon the Thirteen differ­rent Cards every Deal, and that the Cards are not always well mixt, but that ſometimes Two or Three of a ſort ſhall come to­gether, and at other times the Dealer's Card does not come till the Six laſt Taillieès; yet take it one time with another, the Bank has certainly a very great advantage; theſe Reaſons, to­gether with the Reflection ſhe made, upon how much ſhe had loſt at that Game, made her re­ſolve21 for the future to leave it off. The Marquiſs finding her in a right Temper for his deſign, propos'd to her to have Baſſett at her Houſe, that ſhe ſhou'd keep the Bank, recommending to her the Chevalier Brierie, as one who wou'd be glad to have a ſhare in it, as a Man of a gene­ral Acquaintance in Paris, and one who wou'd bring 'em Game­ſters enough. Madam Landroze lik'd the Motion, and readily a­greed to it; and, after a little pauſe, ſhe hinted to the Marquiſs that with her late loſſes ſhe was quite run out of her Money, yet that there was a Merchant ſhe us'd to deal with, who up­on ſome Allowance, and defalca­tion for Intereſt, wou'd accept of an Aſſignment upon one of her Tenants, and advance her the next Years Rent upon it. 22The Marquiſs offer'd to lay down the Money, and make a Bank for her; which ſhe refus'd, but bor­row'd Three hundred Loüis d'ors of her Merchant, to which the Marquiſs put Three hundred more, and the Chevalier as ma­ny; ſo that they made up a Bank of Nine hundred Loüis d'ors. What with the pains the Chevalier took to divulge it, and the Reputation of the Perſons concern'd, it was quickly known all the Town over; Gameſters came from all parts, and the ve­ry ſecond time they Dealt, there was ſo great a Crowd, that not­withſtanding the Table held above Thirty, there were ſeveral that cou'd get no room. The Marquiſs taillied, and Madam Londroze, and the Chevalier crouppied. Sure nothing could be more Entertaining, than to23 ſee a Number of People ſetting round a great Table, ſome looking pale, ſome red, ſome ready to ſplit themſelves with laugh­ing, others ſwearing, ſtorming, fretting, and making a hundred ſeveral Grimaces: Sometimes you ſhou'd ſee a young Heir, yet in deep Mourning for his Father, at one ſetting play away all that the good Old Gentle­man had been ſcraping up for three or ſour years together; the Pay-maſter of the Army the poor Soldiers Pay; Abbots their yearly Revenues; Officers their Pay; the new married Man his Wifes Portion; the Magiſtrate his Bribes; and married Women looſe great Sums of Money, juſt before taken up upon their Necklaces and Jewels. Now and then you ſhou'd ſee ſome People, having loſt all, riſe up24 and go away after a very deſpe­rate manner, and of a ſudden return with their Pockets full of Loüis d'ors; the purchaſe Mo­ney of ſome Plate, or Suit of Hangings juſt expos'd to Sale: In fine, there was a great Ren­devouze and Medly of all ſorts of People; the young Heireſs with the old Widow, the grave Stateſman with the fluttering Courtier, the infamous Strum­pet with the Ladies of Honour, and the Upſtart Valet de Cham­bre with his late Lord and Ma­ſter; a Scene then which no­thing can be more ridiculouſly Pleaſant: One time there were two Citizens Wives, who ha­ving been conſiderable looſers, went home twice for freſh Re­cruits; and having at length loſt all they had, went away with Tears in their Eyes. The25 Chevalier perceiving what a ta­king they were in, and having a great Curioſity to hear what they ſaid, went cloſe after 'em in the Dark, and over-heard one ſaying to the other, What ſhall we do? Oh! Unfortunate Creatures! for my part, I am grown deſperate, and wiſh to dye: you ſee Couſin, continued ſhe, you muſt no longer make a Difficulty of giving up your Daughter to the Farmer gene­ral of the Revenues, he has aſ­ſur'd me you ſhall never want Money, and 'tis the laſt Shift we can make; when he has done with her himſelf, he'll marry her off to one of his under Officers, or if he ſhould not, yet are there many others who knowing nothing of the Matter, would be glad of her: The Men are meer Block-heads26 in that Point, and my Husbanb, poor Man, who fancies himſelf a Conjurer, knows no more of that matter than another Man. In the mean time one of the Footmen coming with a Candle, the Cheva­lier ſtole away, as fearing to be ſeen. Another time a young Lady betwixt Seventeen and Eighteen, handſom and well dreſs'd, being at play, and having very bad luck, the Chevalier over-ſaw her Card ſeveral times; which Madam Landroze taking notice of, watch'd it the more narrow­ly; at laſt, after the loſs of Two and twenty Loüis d'ors, ſhe went away very diſcontentedly; whereupon the Chevalier fol­lowing her, over-heard an Old Woman ſaying to her, Have not I often warn'd you of the danger of Play? What think you will your Mother ſay when27 ſhe ſees you without the Pety­coat? Were not the Two and twenty Loüis d'ors, ſhe gave you, enough to have bought one, but you muſt play 'em away in hopes to get more, that you might have a Richer? You have done finely, han't you? for my part I look for nothing leſs than being turn'd out of Doors. Im­mediately the Chevalier addreſ­ſing himſelf to the young La­dy, told her he had over-heard their Diſcourſe, aſſuring her how much troubled he was at her loſs, it being no fault of his that ſhe had not won, and that her Card had not been over ſeen every time. At firſt the young Lady bluſh'd, but the Chevalier proferr'd to lend her ſome Mo­ney with ſo much Importunity, that, notwithſtanding the many refuſals ſhe made, he at laſt in28 a manner forc'd her to accept it. He waited upon her to a Shop, where they laid out Three and thirty Loüis d'ors upon a Pety­coat. He was with her a great while all alone. The next day ſhe was engaged at Baſſett, and ſo for ſeveral days together. She never was without Money. Ma­dam Landroze, ſaid the young Lady; was much oblig'd to the Chevalier, for ſupplying her ſo conſtantly with Money, and that ſhe had found out the Myſtery by their oagling each other: But certain it is, that about Two or Three Months after­wards, there being a great deal of Company, ſhe was miſs'd on a ſudden; and that one day her Woman, as ſhe was unlacing her, told her plainly ſhe never ſaw her Breaſt ſo high. She is ſlipt out of Town, and 'tis given out29 ſhe is gone into a Monaſtery. Another time, a Friend of the Chevalier's had juſt ſet his Foot into the Room where they were Dealing, when of a ſudden he drew back to avoid being ſeen; the Chevalier made after him, and preſſed him to come in; he deſir'd to be excuſed, but the Chevalier being very earneſt with him to know the Reaſon his Friend ask'd him, Did you, ſaid he, mind the Old Gentle­man that ſat next you? yes, re­ply'd the Chevalier; know then, ſaid he, that he is worth Eight hundred thouſand Livres, and has three Daughters to mar­ry, that he goes about to the Baſſett Tables only to take no­tice who comes there, and if he finds any one that courts any of his Daughters at play he poſitively commands her, to30 whom the Court is made, to break off with her Lover, and forbid him the Houſe, proteſting that no Baſſett-player ſhall ever marry any Daughter of his. Now I being very well with the Eldeſt, and in no ſmall hopes of getting her, ſhe gave me this Advice, which I'm reſolv'd to follow. The Chevalier being ſatisfied with this Reaſon, and going back into the Baſſett Room, fell a rallying ſo ſeverely upon the Old Gentleman, that he ob­lig'd him to quit the Room, as looking upon him to be one that wou'd hinder their Cu­ſtom.

Nothing can be a ſtronger Inſtance, to how great Extra­vagances the love of Baſſett may ſubject one, than what hapen'd to the young Count de Angluron; he was a Friend of the Cheva­lier's31 who meeting him one day in Town, ask'd him how chanc't, he, that was ſo great a lover of Play, had now quite left it off: The young Count told him, he was now wholly taken up another way; for that he was fallen deſperately in Love with one of the moſt Beautiful Creatures in all France, of whom he was likewiſe not a little belov'd; that his Paſſion for her had perfectly cur'd him of that for Play. The Chevalier told him there was Baſſett at Ma­dam Landrozes, whether Peo­ple of the beſt Faſhion in Town did daily reſort, and invited him to it, and to bring his Miſtreſs along with him.

Next day the Count and his Miſtreſs, the Marquiſs of Ro­ziers and the Chevalier, were at Madam Landroze's very merry32 together; but being too ſoon to begin to Deal, they fell into a Diſ­courſe about play. Madam Landro­ze ſaid, He that was given to play cou'd never make a good Lover, or be very obſervant to his Mi­ſtreſs. The Marquiſs of Roziers was of Opinion one might eaſi­ly diſengage himſelf from the love of play: In anſwer to which, the Chevalier in a rallying way ſaid, that whoever has once plac'd his Affections upon play, can never wean himſelf from it as long as he lives. The Count de Angluron was for maintaining the contrary, and looking lan­guiſhing upon his Miſtreſs, ſaid, That from his own Experience he cou'd prove, that Love was an infallible cure for any Inclina­tion to play. And for my part, reply'd his fair Miſtreſs, I think any Woman very ingrateful that33 can't be of the ſame Mind. The Chevalier, for the Jeſt ſake, ſtill perſiſted in it, that no Man who, loves Baſſett can ever leave it off for a Miſtreſs; a Miſtreſs, ſaid he, may perhaps requite her Lover for the many Torments ſhe makes him endure; but can ſhe at any time give him a Pa­roli, a Sept, a Quinze, or a Trent-et-le-va? No! no! never was any Ladies favour of that Con­ſequence. By this time the Company being come, they gave over the Diſcourſe; and the Marquiſs of Roziers began to Taillièe: Do but obſerve now what happen'd to the Count de Angluron; this Man, whom Love had ſo well cur'd of any deſire of play, at firſt play'd but very little, and was taken up rather in watching his Miſtreſſes Eyes, than his own Cards; he34 loſt 'em every one; then being heated, and in hopes his luck might turn, he ſet as much up­on a Card at one time, as he had loſt ſince he firſt began to play. He loſt it; whereupon he doubl'd and doubl'd on, looſing ſome Cards, and winning o­thers; of every Card that he won, he made the Paroli and a Sept-et-le-va, which he ſtill loſt; ſo that after this manner he had plaid off One hundred and fifty Loüis d'ors. He went out, and ſent for the Chevalier into the next Room, where he profer'd to ſell him his Coach and Hor­ſes. The Chevalier thought it a good Bargain, and bought 'em: This Money was as little lucky to the Count, for he ſoon loſt it. A ſecond time he ſent for the Chevalier out into the next Room, to ſell him his Miſtreſſes35 Diamond Claſps. The Cheva­lier at firſt was unwilling, but the Count, as alſo his Miſtreſs, in complaiſance to him, did ſo preſs and importune him to it, that at laſt the Chevalier bought the Diamond Claſps. That Money loſt, he ſold the Pearl Necklace too, as little lucky as the reſt. The Count de Anglu­ron grown deſperate with all theſe loſſes, taking the Cheva­lier aſide, pray'd him to let him have ſome Money upon his Note, proteſting ſolemnly he wou'd re­pay it in two or three days: The Chevalier ſeem'd not to mind him, having made an Oath ne­ver more to lend a Farthing without a Pawn, by reaſon of ſome diſputes he had lately had with ſome of his beſt Friends upon the like occaſion. Well, ſaid the Count, in a great con­cern,36 will you lend it me if I pawn to you the thing of the World I value moſt, and which I wou'd Redeem at the expence of my Life; 'tis that Beautiful Creature that came along with me, I will leave her in your hands, till ſuch time as I have repay'd you to a Farthing of what ſhall borrow; doubt not, my dear Chevalier, but ſome time before the end of the Week you ſhall have your Money, and in the mean time I ſhall take it as the greateſt Obligation imagi­nable. The Chevalier ſurprized to hear of ſuch a kind of Pawn, and calling to mind that he had but juſt before heard the Count maintain, that Love was an In­fallible cure for any Inclination to play, was ſo pleas'd with this Paſſage, that 'twas as much as he cou'd do to forbear laugh­ing37 out right. He told the Count very coldly, that he cou'd not take that Pawn, for what, ſaid he, wou'd you have me do with that young Woman? What would I have you do with her, replyed the Count? Alas! what ſhou'd one do with ſo precious a Pawn? What ſou'd one do? do by her like a Man of Honour; whereupon the Chevalier deſir'd him to think no more on't. Go then, ſaid the Count, pulling his Hat over his Eyes, and turning ſhort from him, you have dealt un­worthily by me, and I'll declare it to all the World, you don't play like a Gentleman; ſo flung out of doors, without ſo much as thinking of his Miſtreſs, who all this while was ſeeing 'em play at Baſſett, and forc'd to walk home on foot, the Coach38 and Horſes having been not long before ſold and deliver'd up.

There were ſeveral other no leſs pleaſant Paſſages at this Baſſett-Bank, which I purpoſe­ly forbear to take notice of, that I may come to ſpeak of the Paſſion which the Marquiſs of Roziers had for Madam Lan­droze. The Count de Chariots hearing of the vaſt Sums of Mo­ney which this Bank had won, had a Curioſity to know how well the Marquiſs of Roziers had ſucceeded in the advice he gave him to gain Madam La­drozes Heart; and to that end he made him a Viſit. She is wonderfully pleas'd, ſaid the Marquiſs, and is often counting over the great gains ſhe has made by the Bank. She's al­ways in good Humour, and when39 we are by our ſelves, we rallyèe upon thoſe whoſe Money we win; but as for what Advances I have made, towards the Ma­ſtery of her Heart, they are lit­tle more than what I made the very firſt day. Do not you Marquiſs, ſaid the Count, make the right uſe of her being in good Humour, and wait for the Critical Minute? Believe me, reply'd the Marquiſs, I looſe nothing for want of aſſurance, but ſhe puts me by, and rebukes me with ſo much Indignation, that I often begin to deſpair. Is it, ſaid ſhe, once to me, be­cauſe I ſometimes vouchſafe you my Company at play, that there­fore you preſume to take this Liberty? Very fine! indeed Monſieur Marquiſs, that is not like to be the Price of our Bank. Therefore Count, continued the40 Marquiſs, to deal plainly with you, yours has fail'd, ſo that I muſt now think of ſome other way. Well, reply'd the Count, I'll tell you one, that can't poſ­ſibly fail; Contrive all you can to looſe, and quite ruin the Bank; put Madam Landroze up­on borrowing of every body, up­on pawning all her Jewels and Moveables; ſhe's extrava­gant, and ſo exceſſively fond of Play, that rather then want Mo­ney for Baſſett, there is not any thing ſhe won't ſell, pawn, or promiſe to do: I'll undertake, that when ſhe's under ſuch Cir­cumſtances, ſhe'll be no longer reſerv'd to you, and 'twill be in your own power to make your ſelf Happy. But how, ſaid the Marquiſs, interrupting him, do you mean by ruining our Bank, and what way ſhou'd I do it? 41I mean, reply'd the Count, that you ſhall agree with ſome of your Friends, to come and play deep, while you being to deal, ſhall ſo ſhuffle the Cards, as that they may win; then which nothing can be more eaſie, let them make the Paroli, the Sept, and Quinze-et-le-va, and in a ſhort time, take my Word for't they'll break the Bank, Madam Landroze ſhall borrow of every body, pawn all ſhe can rap and rend for Money to make a new one, which ſhall have as ill ſuc­ceſs as the former; and never believe me more, if when you have once reduc'd her to that Condition, you do not find her more Affable and Courteous; if you are unwilling to intruſt a Secret of this Nature to any of your own Friends, I'll help you to ſome fit Perſons, and en­gage42 the Chevalier to joyn with you in this thing; for he's a Man no ways nice in theſe Matters, provided he ſuffer not in point of Intereſt. Ah! Count, reply'd the Marquiſs ve­ry haſtily, what a Propoſal have you made me? I play Crimp? I that ſo deteſt all ſuch knaviſh Practiſes? I cheat Madam Lan­droze, a Perſon I doat on above all things in this World? Think you I can be ſo hard-hearted, as to bear up againſt thoſe Af­flictions, which the being redu­ced to ſuch Extremities muſt inevitably throw her into? No! no! Count, you don't know me; and let me aſſure you, I had ra­ther deſpair of ever obtaining any favour from her, then purchaſe it that rate. Faith Marquiſs, reply'd the Count, you miſtake me quite, I propoſe to you the43 cheating Madam Landroze? I never had any ſuch Thought in my Head, and I'm ſorry, that as you'r my Friend, you ſhould know me no better; my mean­ing is, that you ſhou'd reſtore her all the Money ſhe looſes; but that being reduc'd to ſuch ſtreights, ſhe might think ſhe owes all to you which you re­turn to her, and ſo can refuſe you nothing: Don't be appre­henſive of how great a concern ſhe may be in, but think rather how highly ſhe will look upon her ſelf to be oblig'd, and what Acknowledgments thereof ſhe will make to you; this, in my Judgment, is the only way to prove ſucceſsful in your Amour; now chuſe you whether you'll make uſe on't. The Marquiſs of Roziers having better conſi­der'd of the Propoſal, and the44 Reaſons wherewith the Count de Charlois had enforc'd it, ap­proved of it very well. The Perſons who were to manage it came to the Marquiſs to re­ceive their Inſtructions; the Chevalier being aſſur'd by the Count, that there was no­thing intended but a piece of Gallantry, and that Madam Lan­droze ſhou'd have her Money a­gain, readily aſſented to it: As for the Marquiſs, all his Buſineſs was practicing to ſhuffle the Cards, and to remember what the Count had taught him. They agreed amongſt themſelves what Cards ſhou'd win, and the Marquiſs's Valet de Chambre, who waited at the Baſſett Ta­ble, and to whom it belong'd to bring his Maſter the Cards when he dealt, had his Leſſon given him how to place 'em:45 In fine, matters were ſo well manag'd, that at the third ſet­ting down, the Bank was quite broke, and the Perſons deſign'd won all the Money. Madam Landroze immediately pawn'd all her Jewels, Plate, Furniture, and whatever elſe ſhe cou'd make Money of to ſet up a new Bank, which held out not above four ſettings. The next Day af­ter this ſecond Bank was broke, the Marquiſs made her a Viſit a­bout the time they us'd to begin play. He found her lying in a careleſs Poſture upon a Pa­late-Bed, leaning upon her El­bow, in ſuch a melancholy Fit, that he hardly knew her: He ſat himſelf down in an Elbow Chair that ſtood by the Bed ſide, and having for ſome time fix'd his Eyes languiſhing upon her, Let us not Madam, ſaid he,46 diſguiſe the matter, I ſee plainly what a trouble you are in for your late Loſſes, whereof I have ſo great a Reſentment, that I wou'd readily Sacrifice all I am worth in the whole World, to bring you out on't: Ah! Ma­dam, how happy ſhou'd I be, cou'd you but imagin how plea­ſant thoſe Services are to a Lover, which he pays to his Miſtreſs; be pleas'd, ſaid the Marquiſs, pulling a Bag from under his Cloak, and throwing it upon the Bed, to accept of theſe Twelve hundred Louis d'ors for your preſent occaſions; I have ſtill a Foond left to ſet up the Bank again, which I intend to venture. We have had an ill run long enough, and may now reaſonably hope for a turn; yet ſhou'd we looſe this Foond, I can find Credit for another; upon47 the whole matter, I'm reſolv'd, tho' I hazard every Farthing I am worth in the World, to try to change your Luck. But a­las! Madam, while there is not any thing I wou'd not do to ſerve you, may not I hope you will do ſomething for my ſake? you cannot be inſenſible how long, and with how violent a Paſſion I have ador'd you, tho' to this minute I never met with the leaſt return of any thing, but Scorn and Cruelty; How many ſevere ſhocking things have you ſaid to me? How little Inclination had you ever to any thing I propos'd? and how un­mov'd have you ever been at the Torments I endur'd for your ſake? And now, Madam, my Paſſion is grown to that height, that without ſome undeniable Proofs of your Love to me, 'tis impoſ­ſible48 I ſhou'd live any longer. Well then Marquiſs, ſaid Madam Landroze, fetching a great ſigh, ſince it muſt be ſo, I will now free­ly own the Paſſion I have for you, which hitherto, (for ſome pri­vate Reaſons beſt known to my ſelf) I have thought fit to con­ceal; yes Marquiſs I do love you, and that too a thouſand times more than you do me. Do you love me, Madam, reply'd the Marquiſs, interrupting her? and yet have treated me all this while with ſo much Cruelty and Diſdain? Call you that Love? if, Madam, you would make me believe you love me, turn all your Frowns into Smiles, and let a thouſand unſpeakable Joys make amends for thoſe many Torments I have ſo long in­dur'd; a Reſervedneſs to thoſe we love, argues a great coldneſs49 and indifferency in our Love; let your care in omitting no Oppor­tunity of doing me a Favour be an Argument of your Love, and to make it unqueſtionable; let its violence appear in ſome more than ordinary Attempt. What, Mon­ſieur Marquiſs, reply'd Madam Landroze, wou'd you have me grant your requeſt, the very minute I've receiv'd the Obliga­tions from you? No! no! my Love is too real ever to expreſs it ſelf in an Act of Kindneſs, that looks more like paying a Debt, then the free gift of a generous Paſſion; 'tis my Heart you deſire, let her alone then, freely to diſpenſe her Favours according to the Dictates of her own Inclinations, and after a lit­tle Patience, you will have no reaſon to complain. Oh! in­grateful, continued Madam Lan­droze,50 you reproach me with my being ſevere and rigid to you, when alas 'twas the Natural re­ſult of that great Love I bore you. Yes (ſince 'tis to no pur­poſe to conceal it any longer) I proteſt ingenuouſly to you, when ever I fancied you did any thing that did not anſwer thoſe tender Thoughts I hoped you had for me, I fell into a Rage ſo beyond all Reaſon, that I hardly knew what I did: Alas! you little think how much you were oblig'd to me, for even then, when in my Looks and Actions there appear'd the greateſt diſ­dain, I ador'd you from the bot­tom of my Hart, and felt an in­ward concern for you, which till that inſtant I was a Stranger to. I ſet my ſelf to ſtudy your Humour, and found the only way to ſecure your Heart to me,51 was to keep it in a perpetual Motion; for, if at any time it had nothing further to deſire, it began to grow cold and abate much of its fondneſs, the loſs whereof I ſo dreaded, that there was not any deſperate Remedy in the World I wou'd not make uſe of to prevent it. Ah! did you but know how many Tears and Sighs, that affected Coineſs and Scorn, I ſhew'd, has conſtantly coſt me, how wou'd you, inſtead of upbraiding me with it, have thought your ſelf oblig'd to have pittied me. But oh! Words are too weak ſymptoms of a bleed­ing Heart, that is ever attended with more violent ones; here then, I give my ſelf up to your Deſires, do with me as you think fit; Inhuman Creditor! pay your ſelf, come, Cruel, as thou art! Why doſt thou ſtand off? then52 looking languiſhing on him with Tears in her Eyes, ſhe threw her ſelf at his Feet; Pardon ſaid ſhe, pardon, my dear Mar­quiſs, I am ſenſible you have too much Honour to uſe any force, and if I refuſe you at preſent, impute it only to the ſtruglings of a diſabled Virtue, juſt yield­ing to the power of Love.

Juſt as ſhe had ſaid theſe Words, the Chevalier Brierie came into the Room, and found her at the Marquiſs's Feet; but ſhe hearing ſome body tread very ſoftly behind her, and perceiving in the Glaſs juſt oppoſite to her, that 'twas the Chevalier, con­tinued ſtill at the Marquiſs's Feet, and ſeeming as tho' ſhe had not ſeen the Chevalier, immediate­ly turn'd the Diſcourſe in this manner. No! Sir, No, I'm re­ſolv'd never to riſe from this Po­ſture,53 till you have promis'd me not to fight with my Brother. I ask you a thouſand Pardons for whatever he has ſaid to you, he's a paſſionate hot-brain'd Fellow, and grown deſperate to find him­ſelf oblig'd to repay me the Mo­ney I lent him. As ſhe was ſay­ing theſe Words, ſhe turn'd her Head about to the Chevalier on a ſudden, ſeeming to wonder what noiſe ſhe heard; then, as tho' ſurpris'd to ſee him there, ſhe ſtarted up on a ſudden, having firſt wink'd upon the Marquiſs to withdraw, which accordingly he did, but in ſo great a hurry and confuſion, at what had late­ly befallen him, that he had much a do to find his way home. Ah! dear Chevalier, ſaid Madam Lan­droze very heavily, I am undone, I am the moſt unfortunate Crea­ture on Earth, if you don't take54 pity on me; for the love of God uſe all the intereſt you have with the Marquiſs not to fight with my Brother; but Oh! that thoughtful and reſerv'd Look, which he went away with, has daſh'd all my hopes, for I have ever obſerv'd it to be the ſureſt ſign of a revengeful Temper. Feigning at laſt to come to her ſelf ſhe told the Chevalier 'twou'd have done her a great kindneſs, had he hapen'd to come but a Minute ſooner; that having loſt her Money at Baſſett, ſhe was forc'd to dun her Brother for what he ow'd her; who there­upon brought her that Bag which he ſaw upon the Bed, ſhewing him that which the Marquiſs laid there that her Brother fell very ſevere upon her for playing at Baſſett, which kept her al­ways at home, that ſhe was45 peek'd at it, and ſo they came to high Words, that in the heat of the Diſpute the Marquiſs ve­ry unfortunately came in, and offer'd to take her part; at which her Brother was ſo incens'd, that they fell to Words, and in the Paſſion they were in, but for the reſpect the Marquiſs had to her, they had drawn upon each other in her Chamber; that her Bro­ther went out firſt threatning the Marquiſs, that ſhe had done all ſhe cou'd to prevent the Mar­quiſs from following him; yet that ſhe was ſtill in a perpetual fright of what might enſue hereupon. The Chevalier with all his cunning was caught in the Trap, and being naturally impatient, after having promis'd to do her what Service he cou'd in this matter, he immediately took his leave of her. He un­derſtood56 at the Lodgings, where Madam Landroze's Brother lay, that he went out in the Morn­ing early, and had not dined at home; as for the Marquiſs he was but juſt gone to bed, and had left word if any body came he was not to be ſpoken with. This confirm'd the Chevalier in what Madam Landroze had juſt before told him, and made him try to prevent the miſchief which he thought he luckily foreſaw. The Marquiſs tho in Bed, as they told the Chevalier, was ſo far from being aſleep, that 'tis not to be imagin'd, how reſtleſs and diſtracted his Thoughts were; when he re­flected upon thoſe tender and paſſionate Expreſſions where­with Madam Landroze had lately Entertain'd him, he was Tran­ſported with Joy even to a de­gree57 of Madneſs. What, ſaid he to himſelf, does Madam Lan­droze love me, and conceal it on­ly to preſerve me more conſtant to her? Is it poſſible that all thoſe Cruelties I've indur'd from her, ſhou'd be only the Effects of a melancholy Apprehenſion, leaſt I did not love her ſo paſſionately as ſhe cou'd wiſh? Yes! yes! neither the loſs of Reputation, or fear of what might happen, cou'd with-hold her from giving her ſelf up to me to do what I wou'd with her; 'tis I only that am a trouble to her, leaſt what ever ſhe does for me, I ſhou'd impute rather to Deſign, than the free Motives of a diſintereſt­ed Love. Fear nothing, continu­ed he, ſhall I ruin your Reputa­tion, ſhall I, that have ſo great an Adoration for you, expoſe you to the violent Proſecutions,58 and fury of a Jealous Husband? No! no! I renounce the Thoughts of any pleaſure that you muſt purchaſe at ſo dear a rate; the enjoyment of your Heart is all I ask, and 'tis that, and only that can make me the happieſt or unhappieſt Man breathing. Then again, falling headlong from that high Rap­ture into a deep Melancholy, What, ſaid he, what have I done, to deſerve ſo much kindneſs from her? Is it by Treachery, Cruel­ty, and Cheating? What to have betray'd her baſely, to have been ſo cruel as to make her looſe her Money, to have ſeen her ſo reduc'd as to ſell her Jewels, Plate, and Furniture, to have ſtood unmoved at her greateſt Deſpair, to have plaid the Pick-pocket, and hired Peo­ple to aſſiſt me in cheating her? 59Are theſe the Stratagems to con­quer Hearts? thus, and much more than can be expreſs'd, did the Marquiſs rave all Night? When he had call'd to mind that he had ſuffer'd Madam Lan­droze to throw her ſelf at his Feet, he was almoſt diſtracted, and call'd himſelf an unmanner­ly Brute; when he conſider'd the Chevalier Brierie had ſurprized him in this Poſture, and over­heard what he ſaid, he was ſo confounded that he knew not what to think; he cou'd not ima­gin what Madam Landroze meant by deſiring him not to fight with her Brother; and how ſhe came off with the Chevalier; and what troubled him yet more, was, that he had taken notice how very obſervant the Cheva­lier us'd to be to Madam Lan­droze, which made him think he60 loved her, and miſtruſt leaſt his Rival, by telling her how ſhe had been cheated, ſhou'd ruin his Intereſt with her to all In­tents and Purpoſes; thereupon he thought the ſafeſt way wou'd be to begin firſt, and throw him­ſelf at her Feet, in hopes to merit his Pardon by a voluntary confeſſion of the Crime: He thought the Night very tedious, and waited for Day with great impatience to execute his De­ſign; at laſt the Hour of ſeeing Madam Landroze being come, he was in haſte to be going, but juſt as he got to the Door, he found ſome of the Guards there, which a Marſhal of France had ſent; 'tis not to be imagin'd, how wonderfully troubled and ſurprized he was at ſo ſtrange a diſappointment; he ſent preſent­ly for the Count de Charlois to un­fold61 this Myſtery to him. The Count underſtood by his Friend the Marſhal of France, who ſent 'em, that the Chevalier Brierie had informed him of a Duel that was to be fought by the Mar­quiſs of Rozeirs, and Monſieur de Liſle, Brother to Madam Lan­droze, upon a Quarrel that hap­ned lately betwixt 'em. There­upon he went to the Chevalier, who told him how he had found Madam Landroze at the Maquiſs's Feet, and all that ſhe had ſaid to him. The Count returning to the Marquiſs complain'd of his unkindneſs in not acquainting him with the late buſineſs be­twixt him and Liſle. The Mar­quiſs, who did not then call to mind that Liſle was Madam Lan­droze's Brother, and what ſhe had ſaid to him upon the Che­valier's ſurprizing her at his62 Feet, proteſted to him with a thouſand ſolemn Imprecations, he was ſo far from having had any late diſpute with Liſle, as that he had not either ſpoken to, or ſo much as ſeen him this Twelvemonth. If what you ſay be true, reply'd the Count, ei­ther the Chevalier is the greateſt Impoſtor, or Madam Landroze the moſt deceitful and deſigning Woman alive. Afterwards the Marquiſs, as he was telling him of ſome particular Paſſages that happen'd the day before at her Houſe, began to remember, how upon the Chevalier's ſurprizing her at his Feet, ſhe intreated him not to fight with her Bro­ther, and made ſigns to him to withdraw; which accordingly he did, leaving the Chevalier with her all alone: This made him ſenſible of the Truth of63 what had been told him, and conſidering how ſerviceable the Count might be to him on this occaſion, he told him ingeniouſly every particular Circumſtance of the whole Affair, and deſir'd his advice and aſſiſtance therein. Forthwith the Count went to the Chevalier, aſſuring him the buſi­neſs was made up, and that 'twas for Madam Landroze's Credit that it ſhou'd not take Air; ſo they went together to teſtifie the ſame to the Marſhal of France, and to get an Order for recal­ling the Guards. This order came very opportunely, for they who were ſent to ſerve Liſle had not as yet been with him; but ſtaying to drink a Glaſs of Wine at a Tavern-next Door to his Lodgings, there they received the Countermand. The Mar­quiſs of Roziers was in a con­tinual64 fright at what Madam Landroze's Brother wou'd think of the matter, and the great prejudice it might be to her Re­putation. As ſoon as the Count de Chariots had brought him an account of the happy ſucceſs of his Negotiation, he fell into a Diſcourſe about Madam Londro­ze's death: Marquiſs, ſaid the Count, where was your Wit to looſe ſo fair an opportunity? Troth, I know not what to make of you, thou haſt loſt thy ſelf in her Opinion beyond all hope of recovery; for let me tell thee, all ſuch faults are un­pardonable with Women. Is it poſſible thou ſhouldſt come to this Age, and not know that Women uſe ſuch little Tricks, only to decoy and bring Men on with greater eagerneſs, Count, reply'd the Marquiſs very brisk­ly,65 if you knew Madam Lan­droze you'd be of soother mind. She's all Truth, of a tender Diſ­poſition, Generous, uncapable of any little Trick, and endued with a thouſand other extraor­dinary Accompliſhments, which few ether Women cou'd ever pretend to; nay I know her Temper ſo well, that ſhe can leaſt defend her ſelf againſt that way of Courtſhip I have always uſed to her: I have ever ſacri­ficed my Will to her Intereſt and Pleaſure, whereby ſhe is aſſured how much I love her better than my own Life; 'Tis ſuffi­cient to ſecure her to me as long as ſhe lives. Alas! Marquiſs, ſaid the Count, ſhrugging up his Shoulders, you'll never do any great Feats amongſt the Women; the way, continued he, to have66 gain'd Madam Landroze, and kept her ſure to you as long as you'd a mind to't, bad been to have made uſe of the opportu­nity ſhe gave you; 'tis by that, as by ſome ſecret Charm, a Man gets ſo great an aſendant over a Womans mind, that ſhe can deny him nothing, humours him in all things, falls out with the whole World in his Cauſe is careleſs of her carriage to her Husband, or the concerns of her Family, values not her Reputa­tion: In fine, if her Gallant be but a bold experienc'd Sinner ſhe enters in without the leaſt reluctancy, and ſtops at no Crime tho never ſo execrable. What you ſay Count, reply'd the Marquiſs, is very true of lew'd debauch'd Women, and ſuch as have loſt all ſence of Repueati­on;67 but all Women are not un­der ſuch Circumſtances, and Ma­dam Landroze, of whom we were ſpeaking, leaſt of any Woman in all France. Once more, re­ply'd the Count, I muſt needs tell you, I find you do not know the Sex; there are hardly any, and eſpecially Madam Landroze, but what are Fantaſtical in their Amours; they ſuffer them­ſelves to be hurried away I know not how: When ever they love or hate, they can give no Reaſon for either, but are equally in­clin'd to both by a whimſical and unaccountable Humour; they are true to nothing, but their In­tereſt, or when they want an Opportunity to be falſe; they are naturally Coquets, and their affected Virtue is nothing but a Cloak to their Coquettry. 68They have deſign in all they ſay or do; but above all Tears are the Maſterpiece of their Cun­ing, and the ſureſt Baits to catch the warieſt Cudgeons. Though I, continued the Count, defie even thoſe, as well as all others, and what I now tell you, I have either had experience of, or ob­ſerved in moſt Women. I have known 'em leave very worthy deſerving Perſons, whom they once had a great kindneſs for, and who have had no leſs for them, to take up with pittiful inconſiderable Fellows: Some­times becauſe they either danc'd or ſung well; ſometimes being dazled with the glittering of a rich Embroidred Coat, a well fancied Equipage, or a hundred other ſuch fantaſtical Reaſons. One day a married Woman, la­menting69 the loſs of her Lover, who was kill'd in the War, ſaid to me, Alas! poor Youth, how lovely he was, and how dearly he lov'd me? How often have we ran the Balls together? How often has he carried me to Plays? then fetching a deep Sigh, Oh! unfortunate Wretch, ſaid ſhe, that I am! Farewel Balls, fare­wel Plays, they are all over with me, for who is there now that will carry me to' em? No! no! I ſhall never ſee any more. An­other time a Widow, the very firſt year of her Mourning, view­ing her ſelf in the Glaſs, ſaid to me (as I was ſtanding by) with Tears in her Eyes, Ah! Sir, what a loſs have I had of my Husband? At which I began ſe­riouſly to Comfort her: Com­fort, reply'd ſhe ſighing, talk70 not to me of Comfort; ſee what an ill Air this Bandore has, bow frightful this plain Linning makes me appear? What Man will endure now to look upon me? when I han't patience to ſee my ſelf in the Glaſs?

But to ſay no more of other Women, let's come to Madam Landroze. What think you of the Artifice ſhe uſed to blind the Chevalier, of the Reaſon why he found her at your Feet? For my part, I think it a Maſterpeice to ſee a come-off, ſo well contriv'd, and acted ſo to the Life on a ſudden. Well! well! Count, re­ply'd the Marquiſs, let's have no more on't, you have ſaid enough, and I verily believe you are ſo great a Woman hater, that, ſhou'd I let you run on, you'd71 reap up the Story of the Epheſian Matron, 'tis not in this, con­tinu'd he, I ask your advice, but what I ſhou'd do with Madam Landroze, as to the Moneys I made her looſe, for I have ſtill in my Hands above Eight hun­dred Loüis d'ors of hers, over and above the Twelve hundred I left with her that day the Chevalier found her upon her Knees. He told him he thought he had great reaſon to diſtruſt the Chevalier, that he was in a continual fright, leaſt he ſhou'd betray him in making a diſcove­ry to Madam Landroze, which wou'd ruin him in her Opini­on to all Intents and Purpoſes; that he had thoughts to prevent it by reſtoring to her what Mo­ney he had of hers, and ma­king an open Confeſſion of the72 whole matter, in hopes ſhe may pardon it as the raſh Act of a violent Paſſion. The Count was of another mind, he main­tain'd there was no Reaſon to diſtruſt the Chevalier, that ſuch a Confeſſion can never take with Madam Landroze, who will infallibly look upon the whole deſign to be no better than a down-right Cheat, that the better way were, to let her win it back again the ſame way ſhe loſt it; that if he was in haſte to have it done, he might make a match to taillèe at her Houſe to day, that he ſhou'd return the Money to the ſame Perſons that won it before, and appoint 'em to be there on pur­poſe to looſe it back again, by which means they will ſee plainly, he did not deſign Chea­ting;73 and ſhou'd the Chevalier chance to ſpeak on't, as he miſ­truſted, the Event was ſufficient to juſtifie the Act. Beſides, ſaid he, if the Town ſhould come to talk of a Quarrel be­tween you and Madam Landro­ze's Brother, when they ſee you Taillying at her Houſe, 'twill be look't upon as an idle Report, and ſoon be forgotten. The Marquiſs approved of what was ſaid. The Count went to the Chevalier, and the other Per­ſons who were to looſe the Money, to acquaint 'em with the deſign, and give 'em the Money, with all Orders neceſſary there­unto. Then he gave notice to ſeveral other Gameſters that there would be Baſſett at Ma­dam Landroze's about Six of the Clock. As for the Marquiſs he74 went to Madam Landroze's, and told her what the Chevalier had ſaid to the Marſhal of France, how they ſent ſome of the Guards to him, and what bad hapen'd thereupon. Afterwards he propoſed to her the taillying at her Houſe about Six of the Clock: She deſir'd nothing more then to play, and was only troub­led that they did not begin two Hours ſooner.

There chanc't to be a great deal of good Company there that day, who deſign'd to play deep: But juſt as the Marquiſs had drawn out the Bank mo­ney, in order to Tallièe, and the Setters made choice of their Cards, they heard a great noiſe in the Street, they ſaw a pub­lick Officer with a Trumpet be­fore him, and a piece of Parch­ment75 in his Hand, in the midſt of a great crow'd, and heard him pronounce the Word Baſſett ſeveral times, but cou'd make nothing of what he ſaid. Mean while the Company being greatly puzzl'd to know the meaning on't, in came an Old Gentleman, Husband to a young Lady who was then preſent, and had ſet ſeveral Loüis d'ors upon a Card: With great Joy in his Looks, he told 'em, it was an Order of Council to forbid Baſſett; then looking a little angrily, he commanded his Wife not to play; ſhe laught at him, and the more he forbid her, the more preſſing ſhe was with the Marquiſs to deal on: The Penalty of the Order, ſaid he, is Five hundred Livres for­feiture upon every one that76 plays, Three thouſand upon him that keeps the Bank, and the Houſe where they play to be ſhut up. This perplex'd and madded all the Company. Ma­dam Landroze was for rallying it off, and ſaid, ſhe liked the Company too well to ſhut her Doors againſt 'em. The Mar­quiſs was loath to incur the For­feiture of Three thouſand Livres. The Chevalier, enraged at the Order, was very poſitive, and of­fer'd to lay Five hundred Loüis d'ors, one might ſafely play the reſt of that day; however there being few of his Mind, they broke up and went away with­out it. As they were going off, he endeavour'd to perſwade 'em to come back, but finding it to no purpoſe, told 'em, that the forbidding Baſſett was of a77 mighty conſequence, which he was deſirous to communicate to 'em, and therefore invited 'em all to Supper. The Ladies, and all thoſe Gentlemen who were Strangers to the Chevalier, thank'd him for his Invitation, and went away, while ſuch as were his Friends and Acquain­tance, went along with him to the Petit-Paris, where he be­ſpoke a Supper. The Marquiſs promis'd the Chevalier to be there as ſoon as he. In the mean time, as the Company were taking their leaves, he counted over his Money, and put Eight hundred Loüis d'ors in a Purſe by it ſelf. Then find­ing himſelf alone with Madam Landroze, he offer'd her the Purſe, in which the Eight hundred Loüis d'ors were, confeſſing the78 whole Cheat, in hopes ſhe wou'd pardon him, and look upon't as the exceſs of Love. While he was ſpeaking. Madam Landroze turn'd ſometimes pale, ſometimes red, and chang'd Col­lour above a hundred times. What, ſaid ſhe, to him, reaching out her Hand to take the Purſe, is it poſſible? and are theſe Eight hundred Loüis d'ors, and the Twelve hundred you left here yeſterday, my own? Which the Marquiſs aſſuring her: Well, ſaid ſhe to him, you are a Man of Honour, and I forgive you freely; in full aſſurance whereof, as likewiſe how much I look upon my ſelf to be intereſted in any thing that concerns you, I will make you an intire Confi­dent in all my Thoughts. Ah! Madam, ſaid the Marquiſs, in­terrupting79 her, how good and how obliging you are, and how ſenſible am I of it; nay fur­ther, continued ſhe, I'll give you advice which makes againſt my ſelf, and if you're wife you'll follow it: but for fear any body ſhou'd come in, and ſurprize me with this Purſe in my Hand, let me go lock it in my Cabinet: which accordingly ſhe did, and being come back again; Troth, Marquiſs, ſaid ſhe, I had a narrow eſcape yeſterday, for my ill For­tune at play had reduced me to ſo great an Extremity, that I proteſt I had not the power to deny you any thing you cou'd ask me: But thanks to Provi­dence, and my own little Cun­ning, I am now ſafe deli­ver'd. But withal, Sir, continu­ed ſhe, I muſt needs ſay you80 have not loſt much by't; for whatever you had done with my Perſon, I had from my very Heart deteſted the Action, and lookt upon it only as a hard Ranſom, to Redeem me out of that Slavery whereinto my late Loſſes had unfortunately thrown me. Know Marquiſs that my Affections are otherwiſe enga­ged, and that too, to the moſt ungrateful Man breathing, one, who once had, or at leaſt counterfeited a ſtrong Paſſion for me; and oh! if 'twas coun­terfeited, 'twas done to the Life; one, who has a thouſand times ſworn to love me as long as he liv'd: However the Traytor has proved falſe, and what is yet worſe, Falſhood has been ſo far from curing me of my Love, that it has rather increas'd it81 the more. Once when I upbraid­ed him with his Ingratitude, and beg'd him to return to the Paſ­ſion he formerly had for me; Cou'd I, ſaid he, Ah! Madam, how gladly would I do't? Can there be a greater Happineſs in the World, than that of loving where one is belov'd; but we are not ſo much Maſters of our own Hearts, I value you above any Perſon breathing, and wou'd readily ſacrifice my Life and Fortune to your Service; but I beg you not to exact the Tribute of a Heart which is not in my own power to diſpoſe of: A hundred, and a hundred times have I call'd my ſelf perjur'd and ingrateful, and bluſh'd at the ſhame of ſo infamous a Cha­racter; but how in vain are all ſuch Attacks, upon a Heart re­ſolv'd82 never to ſurrender? I thought this Diſcourſe ſo very ridiculous, that I broke off with my Faithleſs Lover, and forbid him from ever more corning near me; and yet Marquiſs, 'tis but too great a Truth, and what I have experimented up­on you, that the Heart is a head ſtrong Libertine, that will love only where it pleaſes. How often have I, to the moſt advantage that cou'd be, re­minded my ſelf of the great Ob­ligations I owe you, of your high Merit, and Paſſionate Af­fections for me, with frequent Suggeſtions to my ſelf, how happy I ſhou'd be in your Love, cou'd I but love you again? I en­deavour'd by ſuch gentle Stra­tagems as theſe, to ſurprize my Heart, and make it come over83 to you, till having by degrees got a Habit of loving you, it ſhou'd declare for you againſt that perfidious Man your Rival: but ſo ſucceſsleſs were all thoſe Stratagems, that they recoyl'd upon me, and what ever my Reaſon made uſe of to ſtreng­then your intereſt, my Heart in­ſenſibly turn'd to the advantage of that ingrateful Man. Judge now what endeavours I've uſed to perſwade my ſelf to love you, and to how little purpoſe they have all been: 'Tis not Choice or Reaſon that governs the Heart, but being byaſs'd by it knows not what, it ſuf­fers it ſelf to be hurried away with an unaccountable Plea­ſure, to it knows not whither, or wherefore; and ſo ſtrangely contradictory, is the Temper of84 thoſe who are in Love, that they fondly purſue their Tor­mentors, and fly from thoſe that would make 'em Happy. Oh! Cruelty, reply'd the Marquiſs, interrupting her, is it not e­nough to tell me you don't love me, but that I have a Rival whom you do love? Well Marquiſs, ſaid ſhe, ſince 'tis ſo, let us try in ſome meaſure to alleviate the ſecurity of our Fates, you by endeavouring to wean your ſelf from me, and I by ſtudying to forget your Rival; ſince to love, and not be loved again, is certainly the greateſt Plague upon Earth. For Heavens ſake, Madam, re­ply'd the Marquiſs, teach me the Secret to forget you, 'tis all the Reward I ask, of what­ever I have endur'd for you. 85There is a never failing one, ſaid ſhe, which is never to ſee me more, and leave the reſt to time. Never to ſee you more, Madam, reply'd the Marquiſs, to ſpend Hours, Days, Months, nay Years without ſeeing you, or ſo much as ever hoping to ſee you more; Ah! what a Cruel Remedy you tell me of, will time, do you ſay, work the reſt: Alas! how ſlow, and weak a Cure is Time, for ſo violent a Diſtemper.

Juſt as the Marquiſs had ſaid this, in came the Chevalier, and told him Supper was ready, and that the Company ſtaid for him; though the Marquiſs had a great deal more to ſay to Madam Landroze, yet he was forc'd for that time to take his leave of her; which he did with86 ſo much concern, that he cou'd ſcarce hide it from the Cheva­lier: Wh n he was come to the place where they were to ſup, he told thoſe Perſons whom he had engaged in the deſign a­gainſt Madam Landroze, that he had reſtor'd her all the Money they had won of her, and turn'd it off with a Jeſt. Whereup­on they gave him the Eight hundred Loüis d'ors, which the Count Charlois had given them.

Supper being upon the Table, and all the Company going to ſit down, the Chevalier told 'em he had a matter of great importance to impart to 'em, of which it was highly neceſſary that every one ſhould give his Opinion; that moſt Voices ſhou'd carry't: in order where­unto87 they ſhou'd chuſe a Pre­ſident to count 'em, but not be­gin the Debate till the Fruit was upon the Table, and in the mean time to conſider well of the choice. Several Healths went round briskly, at laſt the Fruit being ſet on, the Cheva­lier ask'd the Company if they had thought of a Preſident, whereat they all, with one Voice, cry'd out they had made Choice of him. Immediately the Chevalier putting on as Grave and Mageſterial a Look, as tho' he were Preſident of the Council, open'd the Seſſions in this manner, The defence of Baſſett, Sirs, is to be the Subject of our preſent Debate, and we, being the chief Gameſters, whatever Rule we make herein, will be binding to o­thers;88 wherefore I deſire every particular Perſon may give his advice in this weighty Affair deliberately, and without any prejudice. The firſt thing then to be conſider'd of is, Whether 'tis moſt for our advantage to play at Baſſett or not? And if to play, then ſecondly, What is to be done to avoid the Order which was this day Proclaimed to the contrary? Begin Mon­ſieur l' Abbè, ſaid the Cheva­lier, addreſſing himſelf to the Abbèe Olarion, you, whom the World has honour'd with the Glorious Title of Clerk of the Baſſett Table: For my part, Sir, ſaid the Abbè, I'm of Opinion the whole Company has reaſon to keep up Baſſett, I've ever found it turn to good Account, and that the Bank muſt be the89 only Winner at long run. 'Tis true that Baſſett is an ill Game for the Setters, but we that are here preſent, have not ſo little Wit, as to do any thing but go in the Bank. 'Tis not, continu­ed he ſmiling, but with great labour and pains that I have purchas'd that Glorious Title of Clerk of the Baſſett Table; having crouppied day after day, to ſeveral Banks from two of the Clock after Dinner, till Eight at night, and ſo from Nine till One of the Clock the next Morning: Now I leave it to you to conſider, how ſtrong a Head a Man muſt have to undergo ſo great a Fateigue. The firſt Point, which is, whe­ther 'tis moſt for our advantage to play at Baſſett, being thus clear'd, I come now to the Se­cond,90 viz. How we may play at it without any danger. This I muſt confeſs does a little gra­vel me. There is no Pleaſure in being made an Example. At firſt they will be very ſtrict in putting the Law in Execution: in my judgment therefore, 'tis not ſafe to oppoſe them in the heat of their firſt Reſolutions, but wart with patience till bet­ter days, which cann't but be e're long, for Baſſett is too too bewitching a Game, not to draw many of the Nobility and other Perſons of Quality in to play at it, which will ſerve for a Preſident to us; and this in ſhort is what I think of the whole Matter.

Come thou Reverend Judge of Baſſett, ſays the Chevalier, thou to whoſe infallible De­ciſſion91 all difficult and con­troverſial Points of Baſſett are ſubmitted with an implicit Faith, let's hear what you ſay. I, ſaid Chatigny, am of Abbè Olarion's Opinion, but cou'd wiſh that in the mean time ſome Expedient might be found out of playing in ſome Noble Mens or Ambaſſadors Houſes, and that ſometimes we may have private Baſſett in our Chambers to keep us in breath. What think you, Noble Cap­tain, ſays the Chevalier, you, that as the Town will have it, have been ſo unfortunate at this Game. I, ſaid the Captain, for my part, have been ſo pro­vok'd with Baſſett, that I wiſh him hang'd who firſt found it out. Before this Game came up, I and ſome others that un­derſtood92 play pretty well, cou'd now and then pick up a little Money, and ſtrip a well fea­ther'd Bubble without any noiſe. But now Baſſett has ſo engroſs'd the whole Trade, that there is nothing to be got for us poor Brothers of the Die. Now Monſieur Marquiſs, ſaid the Chevalier, addreſſing himſelf to the Marquiſs of Ro­ziers, 'tis your turn to ſpeak. The Marquiſs, rouzing himſelf as one juſt awak'd out of a dead ſleep, ſtair'd upon the Cheva­lier with ſuch amazement, that the Chevalier ſaw plainly he knew not what they had been talking of. The Queſtion, ſaid the Chevalier, is whether or no it be for our advantage to play at Baſſett? The Marquiſs pau­ſing a while, Never, ſaid he,93 came any good of Baſſett, ſince it came into France, therefore in my Judgment it ought to be baniſh'd for ever. But I muſt beg you will excuſe me, and impute it to an odd whim I have, that I don't give you my Reaſons for it. I'll do't for you, ſaid Bautrin, taking up the Que­ſtion. In Hell it ſelf, ſaid he, never was hatch'd ſo damnable a thing as Baſſett. Thereupon the whole Company burſt out into a great laughter, and cry'd he was not an Impartial Judge, having a Mortal peek to Baſſett, for making him walk a foot. Think not, Sirs, reply'd he, that what I now ſay is out of madneſs for looſing my Coach and Hor­ſes; I am equally unlucky at all ſorts of Games, and had I not loſt 'em at Baſſett, I had done it94 at ſome other Game; ſo that the exception I have to Baſſett, is not from what I have ſuffer'd but thoſe general Extravagancies and miſchiefs that attend it. At all other Games one has time to conſider, and by reflecting upon his Loſſes and the Conſe­quence thereof, to leave off; but in this there is no being go­vern'd by Reaſon, or any time to reflect; it runs away with ſo much quickneſs. One fancies to make the Paroli, or Sept et-le-va, which hapening to win, the ſucceſs thereof draws him in to venture all he has, or can rap and rend, in hopes of the like good Fortune, till at laſt he loo­ſes all, and runs himſelf over head and ears in as ſhort a time as I've been ſpeaking. There's the Duce, ſays another, has loſt95 thrice already, 'tis ſtrange if it ſhou'd looſe the fourth time; ſo thinking to have found out a ſure Card, in full confidence of winning, he ſets all he has left upon it, which is faſs'd, or loo­ſes the Sonica. Then how he ſtorms, and rages, and borrow­ing all the Money he can of every body, to follow the Duce on, he looſes it (if he wou'd confeſs) four times the deal fol­lowing.

Next day, without fail, he muſt ſeek out for Money to pay what he borrowed the Night before, and wherewithal to have his Revenge. Then the Cloaths, Jewels, and what ever Move­ables he has, go to pawn, and ſo he has it, he cares not what Procuration or Intereſt he gives. With what fear, and concern, with96 what impatience, and palpitati­on of the Heart, does he watch the Cards as the Dealer is draw­ing 'em, eſpecially if he ſees the corner of a Card which looks like his: Nay, I'll main­tain Baſſett does tire and waſt the Spirits of thoſe who play deep, more then any other Game, even Tennis it ſelf; for which Reaſons the Phyſicians do ſtrictly forbid it to all thoſe who are inclined to Conſumpti­ons. I have ſeen Women na­turally of a pale Complexion, redden like Fire, and Men in the midſt of the hardeſt Froſts ſwet as though they were in a Bagnio. Avalon, whom ye all know, in the height of his Fea­ver, ſaid, Va ten Piſtols, a Mi­nute after the Pay, then the double Pay, a Paroli of the97 whole, continued he, in a great Agony, and on a ſudden, raiſing his Voice, cry'd out, like one in Deſpair, Oh! unfortunate Crea­ture that I am! to looſe the So­nica; inſomuch that 'twas fear'd leaſt thoſe light-headed Fits ſhou'd turn to a perfect Fren­zie; and but for his able Phyſi­cian Dr. Pyard, who (knowing he had loſt much at Baſſett) advis'd him to ſend for ſome Gameſters to play by his Bed ſide, who came and loſt to him ſome Money, which to that purpoſe his Mother had given 'em, the unfortunate Youth might have ſpent the reſt of his Days in Bedlam.

Theſe are the leaſt of thoſe many Evils that Baſſett is the cauſe of. Young Gentlemen de­ſign'd for the Clergy, or the98 Law, who, till Baſſett came in, never knew what Gameing was, now lay aſide the thoughts of their other Studies, and apply themſelves wholly to the finding out ſome little Tricks and Ad­vantages of the Game, or how to take up Money at a Scrive­ners; who upon mighty advan­tages ſupplies 'em with great ſumms. The Merchants, Perry­wig makers, Taylors, Hatters, Mercers, or Lace-men, can't get a Farthing of Money from a Baſſett-player; his Purſe is intire­ly devoted to the Bank, and to be put to no other uſe. Upon the whole matter, there are none but the Uſurers, and Pawn­brokers, but what looſe by't. Let a Woman be never ſo diſ­creet, or virtuous, if ſhe has once taſted of the powerful99 Charms of Baſſett, ſhe can ne­ver wean her ſelf from it: if ſhe wants Money, ſhe muſt have it one way of other, and when ſhe has no other Remedy, ſhe borrows it of her Lover, who, after that, is ſo far from finding her Cruel, that ſhe will gratifie him with many Favours, which ſhe won't vouchſafe to the poor Man her Husband. That 'tis a certain Gain to thoſe who keep the Bank, ſaid the Abbè Olarion, is apparent from their having always won. Fie! re­ply'd Bautrain, I never dealt in my Life, but I loſt: and there was a Lady of Liſle, one of my particular Acquaintance, who in three Weeks time, by dealing at Six-penny Baſſett, loſt Three thouſand Livers clear. You100 ſhall have a Man, when he has been ſtuck at play, come to a ſmall Bank, and ſet a Hundred or Sixſcore Loüis d'ors upon a Card. The Bank upon a Pun­ctillio of Honour ſtands it, the Setter winning it, makes the Paroli, and wins that too, ſo breaks the Bank, and at one Bout wins the whole Profit of three Month. 'Twas ſo that Madam Fontaigners Bank was broke.

To conclude, the Council is wiſe, and had not forbid Baſſett but for the great Diſorders it occaſion'd at Paris, and for our common Good. They have the power in their Hands, and muſt not be diſobey'd; the fatal Con­ſequences whereof, are in my Opinion too dangerous to be ventur'd. Scarce had Bautrain101 ſpeaking, when Ʋliſſon ta­king up the Queſtion, 'Tis ob­ſervable, Sirs, ſaid he, that the moſt refined things in Morality, and the beſt in Nature, do, when uſed with exceſs, prove the worſt and moſt dangerous. No Game that ever yet was in­vented is comparable to Baſſett, if play'd at with moderation and temper, nor any ſo pernici­ous when us'd to exceſs. The deſign of Gaming, is to amuze the Mind with the various and extraordinary changes of For­tune, juſt as Baſſett does: for a Proof thereof you need but call to mind what Monſieur Bautrain ſaid. A Setter, ſaid he, looks upon himſelf to be upon the Point of being made a Beggar, his luck changes, a Sept-et-le-va comes and makes102 him a Prince. Can any thing be more ſurprizing? Can any thing be more tranſporting? Have you occaſion for Ten or Twelve Piſtols to throw away upon any Divertiſement, go to the Baſſett Table, and as ſoon as ever you have won 'em, take your own time to come away; no body will preſs you to play on no body will call after you, and you may go off with 'em without being counted a cloſe ſharping Gameſter; a freedom that is the peculiar Excellency of this Game, and not allow'd of in any other. When at any time any of us are ill treated by our cruel Miſtreſſes, we take advan­tage of the Extremities to which Baſſett reduces 'em, to ſubdue 'em to our Affections: Is not this a great relief to a wretched103 Lover, who has ſpent Days and Nights in Sighs and Prayers, without obtaining the leaſt Fa­vour? Hazard, Quinque-nove, or Lanſquenet, may produce as bad Effects, and are as quick deſpe­rate Games as Baſſett; beſides, a Baſſett player has great advan­tage over all other Gameſters, he goes boldly into the Compa­ny of Perſons of the beſt Qua­lity, and is well lookt upon: If he tallieès, he is much made of, and all the Servants of the Houſe are particularly obſervant to him. 'Tis true, there is an Order to forbid it, the beſt way there­fore is to addreſs to the King, and repreſent to him that Baſſett does not ſo much hurt at Paris, as his Majeſty is inform'd, and ſo make an intereſt to have leave to keep a Bank: for my104 part I'll make one willingly, and allow 80000 Livres yearly towards it for my own ſhare. This, Gentlemen, is my Opi­nion. Ʋliſſon having made an end, the Chevalier underta­king to ſpeak to't, ſaid, This appears to me, Sirs, to be a matter of great difficulty; for, that 'tis of mighty advantage to keep the Bank at Baſſett, is ſo undeniable a Truth, that 'twere needleſs to uſe any Arguments to prove how prejudical this Or­der to forbid Baſſett has been to us ſworn Keepers of the Bank. The Point now to be conſider'd of is, how we may continue to play at it without running into any danger; a matter of ſo great difficulty, that the more and more I think on't, the further105 I am from finding out which way it may be done: There is no pleaſure I'm ſure in being made an Example: to play pri­vately and in a Room that is lock'd up, won't turn to account, or ſo much as pay for the Cards and Candles: on the other hand 'tis too hazardous to play in Noblemen's or Ambaſſadors Houſes, as they did at Hoca, leaſt an Officer ſhou'd come in­cognito, and under pretence of playing, ſerve us, to our great comfort, with a Verbal Proceſs for diſobeying the Order. And how many poor indigent Fellows are there, who in hopes of ha­ving the Fine, will turn Infor­mers. The King and his Mini­ſters are fully ſatisfied this Game is prejudicial to the Publick, and therefore ſhou'd we offer to106 Farm it at a Million a year, they wou'd never harken to the Pro­poſal. There is no one here but knows how they have forbid Hoca, under ſo ſevere Penalties, that tho' 'tis ſo very advantage­ous a Game to thoſe who keep the Bank, yet no body dares venture to do it; and ſo will it be with Baſſett. Come then, continued he, let us Metamor­phoſe Baſſett into another Game, let it be much after the manner of Hoca; but by giving it ano­ther Name, by playing it after a different way, and altering the chances, we may diſguiſe it ſo that no body can poſſibly know it, and thereby evade the Penal­ty of the Order. The firſt thing to be obſerv'd, is, that there be one who is to keep the Bank, and to have all the advantages107 that he had at Baſſett; only changing the Names. Thoſe who formerly found out Games, have neither gam'd more, nor had their Talents lye better that way than ours do: Whereat the whole Company began to laugh, and approving of the Cheva­liers Propoſal, ſet themſelves to invent ſome new Game. Abbè Olarion was for Lanſquenet, as 'tis plaid at in Poland; Ʋliſſon propoſed Prieze; and the Cheva­lier Nombre, inſomuch that they were all divided upon which of theſe Games was beſt; but be­ing now grown very late, they adjourned the Meeting till Tueſ­day next, at the ſame hour and place; then and there to conſi­der further of thoſe Matters, and the ſucceſs of theſe new Games. Then every one in particular106 returning Thanks to the Cheva­lier, went away very well ſa­tisfied, and in good Humour, only the Marquiſs of Roziers, who was fallen into a deep de­ſpair, with what Madam Lan­droze had ſaid to him, and the difficulties he found he was like to undergo, upon the Reſoluti­ons he had taken to cure him­ſelf, if poſſible, of his Paſſion for her.


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TextThe disorders of Bassett, a novel. Done out of French
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SeriesEarly English books online.
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Bibliographic informationThe disorders of Bassett, a novel. Done out of French [8], 106 [i.e. 108] p. printed for John Newton at the Three Pidgeons over against the Inner Temple Gate, in Fleet-street,London :1688.. (Page 108 is misnumbered 106.) (The first leaf is blank.) (Reproduction of original in the Newberry Library.)

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