Your five philippi against all my winnings." Phaon had a dim consciousness that he was getting very drunk, that he ought to start at once for Praeneste, and that it was absolutely needful for him to have some money for bribes and gratuities if he was not to jeopardize seriously the success of his undertaking.

But Agias stood before him exultant and provoking.

The freedman could not be induced to confess to himself that he had been badly fleeced by a fellow he expected to plunder.

In drunken desperation he pulled out his last gold and threw it on the table.
"Play for that, and all the Furies curse me if I lose," he stormed.
Agias cast two "threes," two "fours." "I must better that," thundered the freedman, slapping the tali out on to the table.
"'Ones' again," roared Agias; "all four! you have lost!" Phaon sprang up in a storm of anger, and struck over the dice.

"Three of them are 'sixes,'" he raged.