ACT III.
SCENE I. _STUKELY"S lodgings_.
_Enter STUKELY, and BATES._
_Stukely_. So runs the world, Bates. Fools are the natural prey of knaves; nature designed them so, when she made lambs for wolves. The laws that fear and policy have framed, nature disclaims: she knows but two; and those are force and cunning. The n.o.bler law is force; but then there"s danger in"t; while cunning, like a skilful miner, works safely and unseen.
_Bat._ And therefore wisely. Force must have nerves and sinews; cunning wants neither. The dwarf that has it, shall trip the giant"s heels up.
_Stu._ And bind him to the ground. Why, we"ll erect a shrine for nature, and be her oracles. Conscience is weakness; fear made, and fear maintains it. The dread of shame, inward reproaches, and fict.i.tious burnings, swell out the phantom. Nature knows none of this; Her laws are freedom.
_Bat._ Sound doctrine, and well delivered!
_Stu._ We are sincere too, and practice what we teach. Let the grave pedant say as much--But now to business. The jewels are disposed of; and Beverley again worth money. He waits to count his gold out, and then comes. .h.i.ther. If my design succeeds, this night we finish with him. Go to your lodgings, and be busy. You understand conveyances, and can make ruin sure.
_Bat._ Better stop here. The sale of this reversion may be talked of; there"s danger in"t.
_Stu._ No; "tis the mark I aim at. We"ll thrive, and laugh. You are the purchaser, and there"s the payment. (_Giving a pocket book._) He thinks you rich; and so you shall be. Enquire for t.i.tles, and deal hardly; "twill look like honesty.
_Bat._ How if he suspects us?
_Stu._ Leave it to Me. I study hearts, and when to work upon them.
Go to your lodgings; and if we come, be busy over papers. Talk of a thoughtless age, of gaming and extravagance, you have a face for"t.
_Bat._ A feeling too that would avoid it. We push too far; but I have cautioned you. If it ends ill, you"ll think of me; and so adieu.
[_Exit._
_Stu._ This fellow sins by halves; his fears are conscience to him. I"ll turn these fears to use. Rogues that dread shame, will still be greater rogues to hide their guilt--This shall be thought of. Lewson grows troublesome--we must get rid of him--he knows too much. I have a tale for Beverley; part of it truth too. He shall call Lewson to account. If it succeeds, "tis well; if not, we must try other means--But here he comes--I must dissemble.
SCENE II.
_Enter BEVERLEY._
Look to the door there! (_In a seeming fright._)--My friend!--I thought of other visitors.
_Bev._ No: these shall guard you from them. (_Offering notes_) Take them, and use them cautiously. The world deals hardly by us.
_Stu._ And shall I leave you dest.i.tute? No: Your wants are greatest.
Another climate may treat me kinder. The shelter of to-night takes me from this.
_Bev._ Let these be your support then. Yet is there need of parting?
I may have means again; we"ll share them, and live wisely.
_Stu._ No. I should tempt you on. Habit is nature in me; ruin can"t cure it. Even now I would be gaming. Taught by experience as I am, and knowing this poor sum is all that"s left us, I am for venturing still. And say I am to blame; yet will this little supply our wants?
No; we must put it out to usury. Whether "tis madness in me, or some resistless impulse of good fortune, I yet am ignorant; but--
_Bev._ Take it, and succeed then. I"ll try no more.
_Stu._ "Tis surely impulse; it pleads so strongly--But You are cold--we"ll e"en part here then. And for this last reserve, keep it for better uses; I"ll have none on"t. I thank you though, and will seek fortune singly--One thing I had forgot--
_Bev._ What is it?
_Stu._ Perhaps, "twere best forgotten. But I am open in my nature, and zealous for the honour of my friend--Lewson speaks freely of you.
_Bev._ Of You I know he does.
_Stu._ I can forgive him for"t; but for my friend I"m angry.
_Bev._ What says he of me?
_Stu._ That Charlotte"s fortune is embezzled. He talks on"t loudly.
_Bev._ He shall be silenced then--How heard you of it?
_Stu._ From many. He questioned Bates about it. You must account with him, he says.
_Bev._ Or He with Me--and soon too.
_Stu._ Speak mildly to him. Cautions are best.
_Bev._ I"ll think on"t--But whither go you?
_Stu._ From poverty and prisons--No matter whither. If fortune changes you may hear from me.
_Bev._ May these be prosperous then. (_Offering the notes, which he refuses_) Nay, they are yours; I have sworn it, and will have nothing. Take them and use them.
_Stu._ Singly I will not. My cares are for my friend; for his lost fortune, and ruined family. All separate interests I disclaim.
Together we have fallen; together we must rise. My heart, my honour, both will have it so.
_Bev._ I am weary of being fooled.
_Stu._ And so am I. Here let us part then. These bodings of good-fortune shall be stifled; I"ll call them folly, and forget them. This one embrace, and then farewel.
[_Offering to embrace._
_Bev._ No; stay a moment--How my poor heart"s distracted! I have these bodings too; but whether caught from You, or prompted by my good or evil genius, I know not--The trial shall determine--And yet, my wife--
_Stu._ Ay, ay, she"ll chide.
_Bev._ No; My chidings are all here.
[_Pointing to his heart._
_Stu._ I"ll not persuade you.
_Bev._ I _am_ persuaded; by reason too; the strongest reason--necessity.
Oh! could I once regain the height I have fallen from, heaven should forsake me in my latest hour, if I again mixed in these scenes, or sacrificed the husband"s peace, his joy and best affections to avarice and infamy!