: my freedom in it to the means we talked of. Keep this a secret at home, and hasten to the ruined Ruined by friendship! him. R. STUKELY. -I must relieve or follow Mrs Bev. Follow him, did you say? Then I am lost, indeed! Bev. Oh, 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 my smiles to tears.-Damned, damned 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. 'Tis I alone have You shall reserve Bev. No, no; it must not be. sinned; 'tis I alone must suffer. 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 cannotdare not-Those jewels are your sole support-I should be more than monster to request them. Mrs Bev. My jewels! Trifles, not worth speaking of, if weighed against a husband's peace; but let them purchase that, and the world's wealth is of less value. Bev. 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 cheerfully. 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, ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. STUKELY'S Lodgings. Enter STUKELY and BATES. Stuke. 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 nobler law is force; but then there's danger in't; while cunning, like a skilful miner, works safely and unseen. Bates. And therefore wisely. Force must have nerves and sinews; cunning wants neither. The dwarf that has it shall trip the giant's heels up. Stuke. And bind him to the ground. Why, we'll erect a shrine for Nature, and be her oracles. Conscience is weakness; fear made it, and fear maintains it. The dread of shame, inward reproaches, and fictitious burnings swell out the phantom. Nature knows none of this; her laws are freedom. Bates. Sound doctrine, and well delivered! Stuke. We are sincere, too, and practise what we teach. Let the grave pedant say as much.-But now to business-The jewels are disposed of; and Beverley again worth money. If my design succeeds, this night we finish with him-Go to your lodgings, and be busy-You understand conveyances, and make ruin sure. Bates. Better stop here. The sale of this reversion may be talked of-There's danger in it. Stuke. No, 'tis the mark I aim at. We'll thrive and laugh. You are the purchaser, and there's the payment. [Giving him a Pocket-Book.] He thinks you rich; and so you shall be. Enquire for titles, and deal hardly; 'twill look like honesty. Bates. How if he suspects us? Stuke. 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. Bates. 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. Stuke. This fellow sins by halves; his fears are consoience to him. I'll turn these fears to use. Rogues that dread shame, will still be greater rogues to hide their guilt-Lewson grows troublesome-We must get rid of him-He knows too much. I have a tale for Beverley. 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. 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.-[Offer. ing Notes.] Take them, and use them cautiously— The world deals hardly by us. Stuke. And shall I leave you destitute? No: your wants are the 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. Stuke. 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 ventu ring 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 restless impulse of good fortune, I yet am ignorant; but Bev. Take it, and succeed then. I'll try no more. Stuke. 'Tis surely impulse; it pleads so stronglyBut you are cold-We'll e'en part here then. And for this last reserve, keep it for better uses; I'll have I thank you though, and will seek fortune singly-One thing I had forgot Bev. What is it? none on't Stuke. 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. Stuke. I can forgive him for❜t; but, for my friend, I'm angry. Bev. What says he of me? Stuke. That Charlotte's fortune is embezzled-He talks on't loudly. Bev. He shall be silenced, then-How heard you of it? Stuke. From many. He questioned Bates about it. You must account with him, he says. Bev. Or he with me-and soon, too. Stuke. Speak mildly to him. Cautions are best. Bev. I'll think on't-But whither go you? Stuke. 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. Stuke. 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, and affections, all will have it so. Bev. I am weary of being fooled. Stuke. And so am I-Here let us part, thenThese bodings of good fortune shall all be stifled; call them folly, and forget them-farewell. 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 Stuke. Ay, ay, she'll chide. Bev. No; my chidings are all here. [Pointing to his Heart. Stuke. I'll not persuade you. Bev. I am persuaded; by reason too; the strongest reason, necessity. Oh, could I but regain the height I have fallen from, Heaven should forsake me in my latest hour, if I again mixed in these scenes, or |