_Mrs. Bev._ No, not too busy--Mistaken perhaps--That had been milder.
_Lew._ No matter, madam. I can bear this, and praise the heart that prompts it. Pity such friendship should be so placed!
_Bev._ Again, Sir!--But I"ll bear too. You wrong him, Lewson, and will be sorry for"t.
_Char._ Ay, when "tis proved he wrongs him. The world is full of hypocrites.
_Bev._ And Stukely one--So you"d infer, I think. I"ll hear no more of this--My heart akes for him--I have undone him.
_Lew._ The world says otherwise.
_Bev._ The world is false then. I have business with you, love. (_To Mrs. Beverley._) We"ll leave them to their rancour.
[_Going._
_Char._ No. We shall find room within for"t. Come this way, Sir.
[_To Lewson._
_Lew._ Another time my friend will thank me; that time is hastening too.
[_Exit with Charlotte._
_Bev._ They hurt me beyond bearing. Is Stukely false? Then honesty has left us!
"Twere sinning against heaven to think so.
_Mrs. Bev._ I never doubted him.
_Bev._ No; You are charity. Meekness and ever-during patience live in that heart, and love that knows no change--Why did I ruin you?
_Mrs. Bev._ You have not ruined me. I have no wants when You are present, nor wishes in your absence, but to be blest with your return. Be but resigned to what has happened, and I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice.
_Bev._ My generous girl!--But memory will be busy; still crowding on my thoughts, to sour the present by the past. I have another pang too.
_Mrs. Bev._ Tell it, and let me cure it.
_Bev._ That friend, that generous friend, whose fame they have traduced--I have undone Him too. While he had means, he lent me largely; and now a prison must be his portion.
_Mrs. Bev._ No; I hope otherwise.
_Bev._ To hope must be to act. The charitable wish feeds not the hungry. Something must be done.
_Mrs. Bev._ What?
_Bev._ In bitterness of heart he told me, just now he told me, I had undone him. Could I hear that, and think of happiness? No; I have disclaimed it, while He is miserable.
_Mrs. Bev._ The world may mend with us, and then we may be grateful.
There"s comfort in that hope.
_Bev._ Ay; "tis the sick man"s cordial, his promised cure; while in preparing it, the patient dies.--What now?
SCENE VIII.
_Enter LUCY._
_Lucy._ A letter, Sir.
[_Delivers it, and exit._
_Bev._ The hand is Stukely"s.
[_Opens, and reads it to himself._
_Mrs. Bev._ And brings good news--at least I"ll hope so--What says he, love?
_Bev._ Why, this--too much for patience. Yet he directs me to conceal it from you.
[_Reads._
Let your haste to see me be the only proof of your esteem for me. I have determined, since we parted, to bid adieu to England; chusing rather to forsake my country, than to owe my freedom in it to the means we talked of. Keep this a secret at home, and hasten to the ruined R. STUKELY
Ruined by friendship! I must relieve, or follow him.
_Mrs. Bev._ Follow him, did you say? Then I am lost indeed!
_Bev._ O this infernal vice! how has it sunk me! A vice, whose highest joy was poor to my domestic happiness. Yet how have I pursued it! Turned all my comforts to bitterest pangs! and all Thy smiles to tears. d.a.m.ned, d.a.m.ned infatuation!
_Mrs. Bev._ Be cool, my life! What are the means the letter talks of? Have You, have I those means? Tell me, and ease me. I have no life while You are wretched.
_Bev._ No, no; it must not be. "Tis I alone have sinned; "tis I alone must suffer. You shall reserve those means, to keep my child and his wronged mother from want and wretchedness.
_Mrs. Bev._ What means?
_Bev._ I came to rob you of them; but cannot--dare not; those jewels are your sole support--I should be more than monster to request them.
_Mrs. Bev._ My jewels! Trifles, not worth the speaking of, if weighed against a husband"s peace; but let them purchase That, and the world"s wealth is of less value.
_Bev._ Amazing goodness! How little do I seem before such virtues!
_Mrs. Bev._ No more, my love. I kept them till occasion called to use them; now is the occasion, and I"ll resign them chearfully.
_Bev._ Why, we"ll be rich in love then--But this excess of kindness melts me. Yet for a friend one would do much. He has denied Me nothing.
_Mrs. Bev._ Come to my closet--But let him manage wisely. We have no more to give him.
_Bev._ Where learnt my love this excellence? "Tis heaven"s own teaching; that heaven, which to an angel"s form, has given a mind more lovely. I am unworthy of you, but will deserve you better.
Henceforth my follies and neglects shall cease, And all to come be penitence and peace; Vice shall no more attract me with her charms, Nor pleasure reach me, but in these dear arms.
[_Exeunt._