Chapter VIII: Introduction: J. L. Vives: a Scholar of the Renascence (7)

_Val._ No such thing! Wrong should be done to none. No
one’s will, but chance, shall decide this. He to whom
the first king falls in dealing, he shall sit as lazy
spectator, and if any dispute shall arise, he shall be
judge.

_Lup._ Here are two whole packs of cards; one is Spanish,
the other French.

_Val._ The Spanish does not seem to be quite right.

_Lup._ How so?

_Val._ Since the tens are lacking.

_Lup._ They don’t usually have them, as the French do.
Cards, both Spanish and French, are divided into four
suits, or families. The Spanish have gold coins, cups,
sceptres, and swords. The French, hearts, diamonds,
clubs, (little) ploughshares, otherwise called spades or
arrow-points. There are in each suit—king, queen, knight;
ones, twos, threes, fours, fives, sixes, sevens, eights,
nines. The French also have tens. In the Spanish game,
golden pieces and cups are used, but less preferably
swords and sceptres. With the French, the higher numbers
are always considered better.

_Cast._ What game shall we play?

_Val._ The game of Spanish Triumph, in which the dealer
will retain for himself the last card as indication (of
trumps) if it is a one or a picture.

_Manr._ Let us know now who shall be left out of the game!

_Tam._ You advise well. Pray deal the cards. This is
yours, this is his, this for Lupianus. You are umpire.

_Val._ I would rather have you as umpire than as a
fellow-player.

_Lup._ Nice words, I must say. Pray, why do you say so?

_Val._ Because in playing you are so cunning, and such
a caviller. Then they say that you have a knack of
arranging the cards as suits yourself.

_Lup._ My play has no deceit in it. But my activity seems
to your lack of experience like imposture, as often is
the case with the ignorant. However, how does Castellus
please you, who, as soon as he has won a little money,
leaves off playing?

_Tam._ This is rather shirking play than playing itself
(_eludere est hoc, quam ludere_).

_Val._ That is a light evil enough. For if he should be
beaten, he will fasten himself to the game like a nail in
a beam.

_Partners_

_Tam._ We will play by twos, two against two. How shall
we be partnered?

_Val._ I, indeed, knowing nothing of this game, will
stick to you, Castellus, whom I understand to be most
expert in the game.

_Tam._ Add also, most crafty in it.

_Cast._ There is no need of choosing. Lots must divide
everything. Those who get the highest cards play against
those with the lowest.

_Val._ So be it. Deal the cards!

_Manr._ As I wished, Castellus and I are on the same
side. Valdaura and Tamayus are our opponents.

_Val._ Let us sit, as we are accustomed, crosswise.
Give me that reclining chair, so that I may lose more
peacefully.

_a_ _b_
\ /
\ /
×
/ \
/ \
_b_ _a_
]

_Tam._ Place the footstool. Let us sit down in our
places. Draw for the lead.

_Val._ It is my lead. You deal, Castellus.

_Modes of Distribution of Cards_

_Cast._ How? from the left to the right, according to the
Belgian custom? or, on the contrary, according to Spanish
custom, from the right to the left?

_Val._ By the latter custom, since we are playing the
Spanish game and have thrown out the tens.

_Cast._ Yes. How many cards do I give to each?

_The Stake_

_Val._ Nine. But what shall the stake be?

_Manr._ Three denarii each deal and a doubling of the
stakes.

_Cast._ Wait, my Manricus, you are getting on too fast!
That would not be play, but madness, where so much money
would be risked. How could you have pleasure in the
anxiety lest you should lose so much money? One denarius
would be sufficient, and the increase shall be one-half
up to five asses.

_Val._ You counsel rightly. For so we shall not play
without stakes, which would be insipid, nor for what
would grieve us, if we lost, for that is bitter.

_Cast._ Have you all nine cards? Hearts are trumps, and
this queen is mine.

_Val._ What a happy omen that is! Certainly it is most
true that the hearts of women ordinarily rule.

_Cast._ Leave off your reflections. Answer to this: I
increase the stake!

_The Contest_

_Val._ I have a losing hand and haven’t good sequences. I
pass.

_Tam._ And I also. You deal, Manricus.

_Val._ What are you doing? You haven’t shown the trump.

_Manr._ I will first count my cards, so as not to have
more or less than nine.

_Val._ You have one too many.

_Manr._ I will place one aside.

_Val._ That is not the rule of the game. You ought to
lose your turn of dealing, and pass it on to the next.
Give me the cards!

_Manr._ I won’t, since I haven’t yet turned up the trump.

_Val._ Yes, you will. By God (_per Deum_)!

_Cast._ Get away! What has come into your mind, my
Valdaura? You swear oaths on the slightest provocation,
which would scarcely be fitting on the most important
affairs.

_Manr._ What do you say, umpire?

_Lup._ I don’t know really what should be done in this
case.

_Manr._ See what a judge we have appointed over us—one
who has no judgment—a leader without eyes.

_Val._ What, then, is to be done?

_Manr._ What, indeed, unless we send to Paris for some
one to bring this matter of ours forward for a decree of
the Senate.

_Cast._ Mix the cards, and deal again.

_Tam._ Oh! what a good hand I lose! I shall not have
another like it to-day!

_Cast._ Shuffle well those cards and deal them more
carefully, one by one.

_Val._ Again, I increase the stakes.

_Tam._ Didn’t I predict that I shouldn’t have such
a chance in my hands again to-day? I am always most
unfortunate. Why do I so much as even look at a game?

_Cast._ This, indeed, is not playing. It is afflicting
ourselves. Is it recreating ourselves and refreshing our
minds, to get worried like this? Play ought to be play,
not torment.

_Manr._ Be a little patient; don’t throw your cards away.
You are getting into a panic!

_Val._ Then answer if you accept (the amount of the
stake).

_Manr._ I accept, and increase it again.

_Val._ What! do you expect to put me to flight with your
fierce words? I don’t pass.

_Manr._ Declare, once for all, and be quick about it. Do
you agree?

_Val._ Yes, and with the greatest pleasure. My mind
prompts me to contest in such play for a still greater
stake, but this will do amongst friends.

_Tam._ What! don’t you count me amongst the living, so
that you leave me out of consideration?

_Cast._ What, then, do you stake, you man of straw
(_faenee_).

_Tam._ I, for my part, wish to increase the stake.

_Manr._ What do you say, Castellus?

_Cast._ At last you consult me, after you have increased
the stake by your own arrangements. I should not dare, on
my hand, to stake up to such an increase.

_Val._ Give a definite answer.

_Cast._ I haven’t the grounds for doing so. Everything
seems ambiguous and doubtful. Hence I answer
hesitatingly, timidly, diffidently. Isn’t this expressed
sufficiently clearly?

_Manr._ Immortal God, what an abundance of words! The
hail we lately had, did not fall so thickly! But, I beg,
let us risk a little.

_Cast._ Let us make the attempt when you please, but
don’t expect a great stake from me.

_Manr._ But you will bring what assistance you can?

_Cast._ There is no need for you to advise me on that
score.

_Manr._ We have been completely beaten!

_Tam._ We have won four denarii. Shuffle!

_Val._ I go five asses.

_Cast._ I don’t know whether I shall pass, for I am sure
to be beaten.

_Tam._ Five more!

_Cast._ What do you reply to this call?

_Manr._ What am I to say? I let it pass.

_Cast._ You lost the last game. Let me lose this in
accordance with my own ideas. I know that I am of less
skill, but I must hold out as long as I seem to have any
strength.

_Val._ What, then, do you say? Do you refuse?

_Cast._ No, certainly. I agree.

_Tam._ Don’t you know this Castellus, Valdaura? He plays
a better game than you, but he is thus accustomed to lure
on rash challengers into his net. Take care not to go on
rashly, where you will be entangled in a net.

_Val._ God’s faith! how could you guess that I had one
last card left of this suit (_natio_)?

_Cast._ I knew all the cards.

_Val._ That is quite conceivable.

_Cast._ And that, too, without looking at them!

_Val._ Perhaps even from the backs?

_Cast._ You are too suspicious.

_Val._ You make me so, if you will excuse me saying so.

_Tam._ Let us examine if the backs of the cards have
marks whereby they can be recognised.

_End of the Game_

_Val._ Let us, please, make an end of playing. This game
worries me by all going so wrongly.

_Cast._ As you will. But perchance the fault is not
in the game, but in your lack of skill, for you don’t
know how to direct your steps to victory, but you throw
away your cards without any reason, as chance happens,
thinking that it doesn’t matter what you have played
before, or might play later, what and in what place any
card should be played.

_Tam._ Of all things there is satiety, and even of
pleasures. I am now weary of sitting. Let us get up for a
little time.

_Lup._ Take this lute and sing something to us.

_Tam._ What will you have?

_Lup._ A song on games.

_Tam._ A song of Vergil’s?

_Lup._ Yes; or if you prefer one of Vives, the song he
lately sang as he wandered along the wall-promenade of
Bruges.

_Val._ With the voice of a goose.

_Lup._ But you sing it with a swan’s voice!

_Tam._ This a god would do better, for the swan only
sings as death urges him on.

Ludunt et pueri, ludunt juvenesque senesque
Ingenium, gravitas, cani, prudentia, ludus,
Denique mortalis sola virtute remota,
Quid nisi nugatrix, et vana est fabula, vita.[79]

_Val._ I can assure you the song is well expressed,
though it comes as it were from a dry old stick (_ex
spongia arida_).

_Lup._ Does he compose a song with such great difficulty?

_Val._ Indeed he does. Whether it is because he writes
poetry so rarely, or because he does not do it willingly,
or because the inclination of his genius drives him into
other regions.

XXII

LEGES LUDI—_Laws of Playing_

A VARIED DIALOGUE ON THE CITY OF VALENCIA

BORGIA, SCINTILLA, CABANILLIUS

Valencia is a town of Spain, the native town of Vives. To
it Ptolemaeus gives 14° longitude, 39° latitude. _See_
the same in the fourth map, Europe. There is another
Valencia in France, as to which _see_ the fifth map
of Europe. This dialogue contains, to a large extent,
the description of the native town of Ludovicus Vives.
There are two parts of the dialogue. In the former part
he describes two cities: Paris with its games, and
Valencia; in the latter part he prescribes the laws
of play. Ammianus Marcellinus calls Paris (Lutetia)
_Parisiorum castellum_. The Emperor Julianus in an
oration with the title Αντιοχιὸς ἢ μισοπώγων[80] calls
it των παρισίων την πολιχνὴν;[81] where also he shows
for what reason he once was driven at Lutetia to vomit
his food, viz., when impatient of the French custom,
by which they were accustomed to heat their rooms by
means of stoves (_fornaces_). Coal having been taken
to the sleeping-chamber of Vives, he was almost killed
by the fumes. _See_ Beatus Rhenanus, book 3, _rerum
Germanicarum_, at the end; Aegydius Corrozetus, _de
antiquitat. Parisiens._; and Zuingerus, book 3, _methodi
Apodemicae_.