_Bev._ A friend! What"s he? I had a friend.
_Stu._ And have one still.
_Bev._ Ay; I"ll tell you of this friend. He found me happiest of the happy; fortune and honour crowned me; and love and peace lived in my heart. One spark of folly lurked there; That too he found; and by deceitful breath, blew it to flames that have consumed me. This friend were You to Me.
_Stu._ A little more perhaps--The friend who gave his all to save you; and not succeeding, chose ruin with you. But no matter--I have undone you, and am a villain.
_Bev._ No; I think not. The villains are within.
_Stu._ What villains?
_Bev._ Dawson and the rest--We have been dupes to sharpers.
_Stu._ How know you this? I have had doubts, as well as You; yet still as fortune changed, I blushed at my own thoughts. But You have proofs, perhaps?
_Bev._ Ay, d.a.m.ned ones. Repeated losses: night after night, and no reverse. Chance has no hand in this.
_Stu._ I think more charitably; yet I am peevish in my nature, and apt to doubt. The world speaks fairly of this Dawson; so does it of the rest. We have watched them closely too. But "tis a right usurped by losers, to think the winners knaves. We"ll have more manhood in us.
_Bev._ I know not what to think. This night has stung me to the quick--blasted my reputation too. I have bound my honour to these vipers; played meanly upon credit, till I tired them; and now they shun me, to rifle one another. What"s to be done?
_Stu._ Nothing. My counsels have been fatal.
_Bev._ By heaven! I"ll not survive this shame--Traitor! "tis You have brought it on me. (_Taking hold of him._) Shew me the means to save me, or I"ll commit a murder here, and next upon myself.
_Stu._ Why, do it then, and rid me of ingrat.i.tude.
_Bev._ Prithee, forgive this language--I speak I know not what. Rage and despair are in my heart, and hurry me to madness. My home is horror to me--I"ll not return to"t. Speak quickly; tell me, if in this wreck of fortune, one hope remains? Name it, and be my oracle.
_Stu._ To vent your curses on--You have bestowed them liberally.
Take your own counsel: and should a desperate hope present itself, "twill suit your desperate fortune. I"ll not advise you.
_Bev._ What hope? By heaven! I"ll catch at it, however desperate.
I am so sunk in misery, it cannot lay me lower.
_Stu._ You have an uncle.
_Bev._ Ay. What of Him?
_Stu._ Old men live long by temperance; while their heirs starve on expectation.
_Bev._ What mean you?
_Stu._ That the reversion"s yours; and will bring money to pay debts with--nay, more; it may retrieve what"s past.
_Bev._ Or leave my child a beggar.
_Stu._ And what"s his father? A dishonourable one; engaged for sums, he cannot pay. That should be thought of.
_Bev._ It is my shame; the poison that inflames me. Where shall we go? To whom? I am impatient till all"s lost.
_Stu._ All may be yours again. Your man is Bates. He has large funds at his command, and will deal justly by you.
_Bev._ I am resolved--Tell them, within, we"ll meet them presently; and with full purses too--Come, follow me.
_Stu._ No. I"ll have no hand in this; nor do I counsel it. Use your discretion, and act from that. You"ll find me at my lodgings.
_Bev._ Succeed what will, this night I"ll dare the worst-- "Tis loss of fear, to be compleatly curs"d.
[_Exit._
_Stu._ Why, lose it then for ever. Fear is the mind"s worst evil; and "tis a friendly office to drive it from the bosom. Thus far has fortune crowned me--Yet Beverley is rich; rich in his wife"s best treasure; her honour and affections. I would supplant him there too.
But "tis the curse of thinking minds, to raise up difficulties.
Fools only conquer women: fearless of dangers which they see not, they press on boldly, and by persisting, prosper. Yet may a tale of art do much. Charlotte is sometimes absent. The seeds of jealousy are sown already: If I mistake not, they have taken root too. Now is the time to ripen them, and reap the harvest. The softest of her s.e.x, if wronged in love, or thinking that she"s wronged, becomes a tygress in revenge. I"ll instantly to Beverley"s--No matter for the danger--When beauty leads us on, "tis indiscretion to reflect, and cowardice to doubt.
[_Exit_.
SCENE VI. _changes to _BEVERLEY"S_ lodgings._
_Enter Mrs. BEVERLEY, and _Lucy_._
_Mrs. Bev._ Did Charlotte tell you any thing?
_Lucy_. No, madam.
_Mrs. Bev._ She looked confused methought; said she had business with her Lewson; which, when I pressed to know, tears only were her answer.
_Lucy._ She seemed in haste too: yet her return may bring you comfort.
_Mrs. Bev._ No, my kind girl; I was not born for"t. But why do I distress thee? Thy sympathizing heart bleeds for the ills of others.
What pity that thy mistress can"t reward thee! But there"s a power above, that sees, and will remember all. Prithee, sooth me with the song thou sung"st last night: it suits this change of fortune; and there"s a melancholy in"t that pleases me.
_Lucy_. I fear it hurts you, madam. Your goodness too draws tears from me: but I"ll dry them, and obey you.
SONG.
When Damon languish"d at my feet, And I believ"d him true, The moments of delight how sweet!
But ah! how swift they flew!
The sunny hill, the flow"ry vale, The garden and the grove, Have echoed to his ardent tale, And vows of endless love.
II.
The conquest gain"d, he left his prize, He left her to complain; To talk of joy with weeping eyes, And measure time by pain.
But heav"n will take the mourner"s part, In pity to despair; And the last sigh that rends the heart, Shall waft the spirit there.
_Mrs. Bev._ I thank thee, Lucy; I thank heaven too my griefs are none of these. Yet Stukely deals in hints--He talks of rumours--I"ll urge him to speak plainly--Hark?--There"s some one entering.
_Lucy._ Perhaps my master, madam.
[_Exit._