Fifty-One Tales by Lord Dunsany 1915

A Losing Game

Once in a tavern Man met face to skull with Death.  Man

entered gaily but Death gave no greeting, he sat with his

jowl morosely over an ominous wine.

   "Come, come," said Man, "we have been antagonists long,

and if I were losing yet I should not be surly."

   But Death remained unfriendly watching his bowl of wine

and gave no word in answer.

   Then Man solicitously moved nearer to him and, speaking

cheerily still, "Come, come," he said again, "you must not

resent defeat."

   And still Death was gloomy and cross and sipped at his

infamous wine and would not look up at Man and would not be

companionable.

   But Man hated gloom either in beast or god, and it made

him unhappy to see his adversary's discomfort, all the more

because he was the cause, and still he tried to cheer him.

   "Have you not slain the Dinatherium?" he said.  "Have you

not put out the Moon?  Why! you will beat me yet."

   And with a dry and barking sound Death wept and nothing

said; and presently Man arose and went wondering away; for

he knew not if Death wept out of pity for his opponent, or

because he knew that he should not have such sport again

when the old game was over and Man was gone, or whether

because perhaps, for some hidden reason, he could never

repeat on Earth his triumph over the Moon.