“But there is still another Case in which the Body is more endangered than in the former. All Play Debts must be paid in Specie, or by an Equivalent. The Man who plays beyond his Income, pawns his Estate; the Woman must find out something else to Mortgage when her Pin Money is gone. The Husband has his Lands to dispose of, the Wife, her Person.”
Almost all writers of the time note and deplore the gambling propensity of Ladies: and Pope, in his _Rape of the Lock_ (Canto III.), gives us a picture of a gambling lady, and a graphic description of the game of _Ombre_, which was played in the afternoon:—
“Meanwhile declining from the Noon of Day, The Sun obliquely shoots his burning Ray; The hungry Judges soon the Sentence sign, And Wretches hang, that Jury-men may Dine; The Merchant from th’ _Exchange_ returns in Peace, And the long Labours of the _Toilette_ cease— _Belinda_ now, whom Thirst of Fame invites, Burns to encounter two adventrous Knights, At _Ombre_ singly to decide their Doom; And swells her Breast with Conquests yet to come. Strait the three Bands prepare in Arms to join, Each Band the number of the Sacred Nine. Soon as she spreads her Hand, th’ Aerial Guard Descend, and sit on each important Card: First, _Ariel_ perch’d upon a _Matadore_, Then each, according to the Rank they bore; For _Sylphs_, yet mindful of their ancient Race, Are, as when Women, wondrous fond of Place. Behold, four _Kings_ in Majesty rever’d, With hoary Whiskers and a forky Beard; And four fair _Queens_ whose hands sustain a Flow’r, Th’ expressive Emblem of their softer Pow’r; Four _Knaves_ in Garbs succinct, a trusty Band, Caps on their heads, and Halberds in their hand; And Particolour’d Troops, a shining Train, Draw forth to Combat on the Velvet Plain. The skilful Nymph reviews her Force with Care, _Let Spades be Trumps_, she said, and Trumps they were. Now move to War her Sable _Matadores_, In Show, like Leaders of the swarthy _Moors_. _Spadillo_ first, unconquerable Lord! Led off two captive Trumps, and swept the Board. As many more _Manillio_ forc’d to yield, And march’d a Victor from the verdant Field. Him _Basto_ follow’d, but his Fate, more hard, Gain’d but one Trump and one Plebeian Card. With his broad Sabre, next, a Chief in Years, The hoary Majesty of _Spades_ appears; Puts forth one manly Leg, to sight reveal’d; The rest, his many-colour’d Robe conceal’d. The Rebel-_Knave_, that dares his Prince engage, Proves the just Victim of his Royal Rage. Ev’n mighty _Pam_, that Kings and Queens o’erthrew, And mow’d down Armies in the Fights of _Loo_, Sad Chance of War! now, destitute of Aid, Falls undistinguish’d by the Victor Spade! Thus far, both Armies to _Belinda_ yield; Now, to the _Baron_ Fate inclines the Field. His warlike _Amazon_ her Host invades, Th’ Imperial Consort of the Crown of _Spades_. The _Club’s_ black Tyrant first her Victim dy’d, Spite of his haughty Mien, and barb’rous Pride: What boots the Regal Circle on his Head, His Giant Limbs in State unwieldy spread? That, long behind, he trails his pompous Robe, And, of all Monarchs, only grasps the Globe. The _Baron_, now his _Diamonds_ pours apace; Th’ embroider’d _King_ who shows but half his Face, And his refulgent _Queen_, with Pow’rs combin’d, Of broken Troops an easie Conquest find. _Clubs_, _Diamonds_, _Hearts_, in wild Disorder seen, With Throngs promiscuous strow the level Green. Thus, when dispers’d, a routed Army runs, Of _Asia’s_ Troops, and _Africk’s_ Sable Sons; With like Confusion different Nations fly, In various Habits, and of various Dye, The pierc’d Battalions dis-united fall In Heaps on Heaps; one Fate o’erwhelms them all. The _Knave_ of _Diamonds_ now exerts his Arts, And wins (oh, shameful Chance!) the _Queen_ of _Hearts_. At this, the Blood the Virgin’s Cheek forsook, A livid Paleness spreads o’er all her Look; She sees, and trembles at th’ approaching Ill, Just in the Jaws of Ruin, and _Codille_. And now, (as oft in some distemper’d State) On one nice _Trick_ depends the gen’ral Fate, An _Ace_ of _Hearts_ steps forth; The _King_, unseen, Lurk’d in her Hand, and mourn’d his captive _Queen_. He springs to Vengeance with an eager Pace, And falls like Thunder on the prostrate _Ace_. The Nymph exulting, fills with Shouts the Sky, The Walls, the Woods, and long Canals reply.”