store, and these her frowns are meant to bright-| en them.

Stuke: No matter; I have changed my mind -Leave me to a prison; 'tis the reward of Bev. Is this a time for levity?-But you friendship. are single in the ruin, and therefore may talk Bev. Perish mankind first!-Leave you to lightly of it; with me 'tis complicated misery. a prison! No! fallen as you see me, I'm not Stuke. You censure me unjustly; I but as- that wretch: nor would I change this heart, sumed these spirits to cheer my friend. Heav- o'ercharged as 'tis with folly and misfortune, en knows he wants a comforter. for one most prudent and most happy, if callous to a friend's distress.

Bec. What new misfortune?

Stuke. I would have brought you money, but lenders want securities. What's to be done? All that was mine is yours already. Bec. And there's the double weight that sinks me. I have undone my friend too; one who, to save a drowning wretch, reached out his hand, and perished with him. Stuke. Have better thoughts.

Beo. Whence are they to proceed? I have nothing left.

Stuke. You are too warm.

Beo. In such a cause, not to be warm is to be frozen. Farewell-I'll meet you at your lodgings.

Stuke. Reflect a little. The jewels may be lost-Better not hazard them-I was too pressing.

Beo. And I ungrateful. Reflection takes up time.-I have no leisure for't-Within an hour expect me. [Exit. Stuke.[Sighing] Then we're indeed undone- Stuke. The thoughtless, shallow prodigal! What! nothing? No moveables, nor useless We shall have sport at night then-but hold trinkets?-Bawbles locked up in caskets, to -The jewels are not ours yet -The lady may starve their owners? I have ventured deeply refuse them-The husband may relent toofor you.

Bee. Therefore this heart-ache; for I am lost beyond all hope.

Stuke. No; means may be found to save us.-Jarvis is rich-Who made him so? This is no time for ceremony.

'Tis more than probable-I'll write a note to Beverley, and the contents shall spur him to demand them-But am I grown this rogue through avarice? No; I have warmer motives, love and revenge-Ruin the husband, and the wife's virtue may be bid for.

Enter BATES.

Look to your men, Bates; there's money stirring. We meet to-night upon this spot.Hasten, and tell them.-Hasten, I say, the rogues will scatter else.

Beo. And is it for dishonesty? The good old man! Shall I rob him too? My friend would grieve for't.-No; let the little that he has buy food and clothing for him. Stuke. Good morning then. [Going. Bec. So hasty! why, then good morning. Stuke. And when we meet again upbraid Bates. Not till their leader bids them. Say it was I that tempted you-Tell| Stuke. Give them the word, and follow me; Lewson so, and tell him I have wronged you I must advise with you-This is a day of bu-He has suspicions of me, and will thank you. siness. Bec. No; we have been companions in a rash voyage, and the same storm has wrecked us both: mine shall be self-upbraidings.

me

Stuke. And will they feed us? You deal unkindly by me. I have sold and borrowed for you while land or credit lasted; and now, when fortune should be tried, and my heart whispers me success, I am deserted-turned loose to beggary, while you have hoards.

Bev. What hoards? Ñame them, and take them!

Stuke. Jewels.

Bev. And shall this thriftless hand seize them too? My poor, poor wife! Must she lose all? I would not wound her so.

Stuke. Nor I, but from necessity. One effort more, and fortune may grow kind. I have unusual hopes.

Beo. Think of some other means then.
Stuke. I have, and you rejected them.
Bee. Pr'ythee let me be a man.

Stuke. Ay, and your friend a poor oneBut I have done: and for these trinkets of a woman, why let her keep them to deck her pride with, and show a laughing world that she has finery to starve in.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-BEVERLEY'S Lodgings.

Enter BEVERLEY and CHARLOTTE. Char. Your looks are changed too;-there's wildness in them. My wretched sister! How will it grieve her to see you thus!

Bev. No, no; a little rest will ease me. And for your Lewson's kindness to her it has my thanks; I have no more to give him.

Char. Yes; a sister and her fortune. I trifle with him, and he complains-My looks, he says, are cold upon him. He thinks too

Beo. That I have lost your fortune-He dares not think so.

Char. Nor does he-you are too quick at guessing-He cares not if you had. That care is mine-I lent it you to husband, and now I claim it.

Bev. You have suspicions then?
Char. Cure them, and give it me.
Bev. To stop a sister's chidings!
Char. To vindicate her brother.
Bev. How if he needs no vindication?
Char. I would fain hope so.

Bev. Ay; would and cannot-Leave it to

Char. Mine are already satisfied.

Beo. No; she shall yield up all-My friend time then; 'twill satisfy all doubts. demands it. But need we have talked lightly of her? The jewels that she values are truth Bev. 'Tis well. And when the subject is and innocence-Those will adorn her for ever; renewed, speak to me like a sister, and I will and, for the rest, she wore them for a hus-answer like a brother.

band's pride, and to his wants will give them. Char. To tell me I'm a beggar.—Why, tell Alas! you know her not.-Where shall we meet? it now. I, that can bear the ruin of those

Beo. As I would those that wrong him.

dearer to me the ruin of a sister and her ripens manhood in him, shall ripen vice tooinfant, can bear that too. I'll prove him, and lay him open to youBev. No more of this-you wring my heart. Till then be warned-I know him, and thereChar. 'Would that the misery were all your fore shun him. own! But innocence must suffer-Unthinking rioter!-whose home was heaven to him! an You are too busy, sir. angel dwelt there, and a little cherub, that crown'd his days with blessings.-How has he haps-That had been milder. lost this heaven, to league with devils!

Beo. Forbear, I say; reproaches come too late; they search, but cure not. And, for the fortune you demand, we'll talk to-morrow on't -our tempers may be milder.

Char. Or, if 'tis gone, why farewell all. I claimed it for a sister.-But I'll upbraid no more. What heaven permits, perhaps it may ordain. Yet, that the husband, father, brother, should be its instruments of vengeance!-"Tis grievous to know that!

Mrs. B. No; not too busy-Mistaken, per

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.
Beo. And Stukely one-so you would infer,
think.-I'll hear no more of this-my heart
aches for him-I have undone him.
Lew. The world says otherwise.

I

Beo. If you're my sister spare the remem- Beo. The world is false then-I have busibrance-it wounds too deeply. To-morrow ness with you, love. [To Mrs. Beverley] shall clear all; and when the worst is known, We'll leave them to their rancour. [Going. it may be better than your fears. Comfort my Char. No; we shall find room within for't. wife; and for the pains of absence I'll make -Come this way, sir. [To Lewson. Lew. Another time my friend will thank me; that time is hastening too.

atonement.

Char. See where she comes!-Look cheerfully upon her Affections such as hers are prying, and lend those eyes that read the soul.

Enter MRS. BEVERLEY and LEWSON. Mrs. B. My life!

Beo. My love! how fares it? I have been a truant husband.

[Exeunt Lewson and Charlotte. Beo. They hurt me beyond bearing - Is Stukely false! Then honesty has left us! 'Twere sinning against heaven to think so.

Mrs. B. I never doubted him.

Beo. No; you are charity. Meekness and ever-during patience live in that heart, and love that knows no change.-Why did Í ruin

Mrs. B. But we meet now, and that heals all-Doubts and alarms I have had; but in you? this dear embrace I bury and forget them. My Mrs. B. You have not ruined me. I have friend here, [Pointing to Lewson] has been no wants when you are present, nor wishes indeed a friend. Charlotte, 'tis you must thank in your absence, but to be blest with your him: your brother's thanks and mine are of return. Be but resigned to what has happened, too little value. and I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice. Beo. Yet what we have we'll pay. I thank Beo. My generous girl!—But memory will you, sir, and am obliged. I would say more, but be busy; still crowding on my thoughts, to that your goodness to the wife upbraids the sour the present by the past. Í have another husband's follies. Had I been wise, she had pang too. not trespassed on your bounty. Lew. Nor has she trespassed. have done acceptance overpays. Char. So friendship thinksMrs. B. And doubles obligations by striving to conceal them-We'll talk another time on't -You are too thoughtful, love.

The little I

Bev. No; I have reason for these thoughts. Char. And hatred for the cause-'Would you had that too!

Beo. I have-The cause was avarice.
Char. And who the tempter?

Beo. A ruined friend-ruined by too much kindness.

Mrs. B. 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.

The chari

Mrs. B. No; I hope otherwise. Beo. To hope must be to act. table wish feeds not the hungry-Something

must be done.

Mrs. B. What?

Beo. In bitterness of heart he told me, just now he told me, I had undone him. Could hear that, and think of happiness? No, I have disclaimed it while he is miserable. Mrs. B. The world may mend with us, and Beo. Or if they could, those I have drained then we may be grateful. There's comfort in him of. Something of this he hinted in the that hope.

Lew. Ay, worse than ruined; stabbed in his fame, mortally stabbed-riches can't cure him.

morning that Lewson had suspicions of him Beo. Ay, 'tis the sick man's cordial, his pro-Why these suspicions? [Angrily. mised cure; while, in preparing it, the patient dies-What now?

Enter Lucy.

Lew. At school we knew this Stukely. A
cunning, plodding boy he was, sordid and
cruel, slow at his task, but quick at shifts and
tricking. He schemed out mischief, that others
might be punished; and would tell his tale
with so much art, that for the lash he merited,
rewards and praise were given him. Show
me a boy with such a mind, and time, that I'll hope so-VVhat says he, love?

Lucy. A letter, sir. [Delivers it, and exit.
Beo. The hand is Stukely's.

[Opens it, and reads it to himself.

Mrs. B. And brings good news-at least

Beo. Why this too much for patience. ther. The dwarf that has it shall trip the Yet he directs me to conceal it from you. giant's heels up.

[Reads. Stuke. And bind him to the ground. Why, Let your haste to see me be the only proof we'll erect a shrine for nature, and be her of your esteem for me, I have determined, oracles. Conscience is weakness; fear made since we parted, to bid adieu to England; it, and fear maintains it. The dread of shame, choosing rather to forsake my country, inward reproaches, and fictitious burnings swell than owe my freedom in it to the means out the phantom. Nature knows none of this; we talked of. Keep this a secret at home, her laws are freedom. and hasten to the ruined.

R. STUKELY.

Ruined by friendship!-I must relieve or follow him.

Bates. Sound doctrine, and well delivered! Stuke. We are sincere too, and practise what we teach. Let the grave pedant say as

Mrs. B. Follow him did you say? Then I much.-But now to business-The jewels are am lost indeed! disposed of, and Beverley again worth money. Bev. Oh, this infernal vice! how has it sunk If my design succeeds, this night we finish me! A vice, whose highest joy was poor to with him-Go to your lodgings, and be busy my domestic happiness. Yet how have I pur--You understand conveyances, and can make sued it! turned all my comforts to bitterest ruin sure.

pangs, and all my smiles to tears. - Damned, Bales. Better stop here. The sale of this damned infatuation! reversion may be talked of-There's danger

Mrs. B. Be cool, my life! What are the in it. means the letter talks of? Have you-have I Stuke. No, 'tis the mark I aim at. We'll those means? Tell me, and ease me. I have thrive and laugh. You are the purchaser, and no life while you are wretched. there's the payment. [Giving a Pocket-book] He thinks you rich; and so you shall be. Inquire for titles, and deal hardly; 'twill look like honesty.

Bee. 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. B. What means?

Bates. How if he suspects us? Stuke. Leave it to me. I study hearts, and Beo. I came to rob you of them-but can- when to work upon them. Go to your lodgnot-dare not-Those jewels are your sole ings; and if we come, be busy over papers. support-I should be more than monster to Talk of a thoughtless age, of gaming and exrequest them. travagance; you have a face for't. Mrs. B. My jewels! Trifles, not worth speak- Bates. A feeling too that would avoid it. ing of, if weighed against a husband's peace; We push too far; but I have cautioned you. but let them purchase that, and the world's If it ends ill, you'll think of me-adieu. [Exit. wealth is of less value. Stuke. This fellow sins by halves; his fears Bee. How little do I seem before such virtues! are conscience to him. I'll turn these fears to Mrs. B. No more, my love. I kept them use. Rogues that dread shame will still be ill occasion called to use them; now is the greater rogues to hide their guilt-Lewson occasion, and I'll resign them cheerfully. grows troublesome-We must get rid of him Be. Why, we'll be rich in love then. But -He knows too much. I have a tale for Bevthis excess of kindness melts me. Yet for a erley; part of it truth too-He shall call Lewfriend one would do much -He has denied son to account-If it succeeds, 'tis well; if me nothing. not, we must try other means -But here he Mrs. B. Come to my closet-But let him comes-I must dissemble. manage wisely. We have no more to give him. Bec. Where learned my love this excellence?

Enter BEVERLEY.

Tis heaven's own teaching: that heaven, which Look to the door there!-[In a seeming Fright] to an angel's form has given a mind more -My friend!—I thought of other visitors. 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.

ACT III.

SCENE I-STUKELY's Lodgings.
Enter STUKELY and Bates.

Bev. No; these shall guard you from them. [Offering 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

Stuke. So runs the world, Bates. Fools are is nature in me: ruin can't cure it. Even now the natural prey of knaves; nature designed I would be gaming. Taught by experience as them so, when she made lambs for wolves. I am, and knowing this poor sum is all that's The laws, that fear and policy have framed, left us, I am for venturing still-And say I nature disclaims: she knows but two, and those am to blame-Yet will this little supply our are force and cunning. The nobler law is wants? No; we must put it out to usury.force; but then there's danger in't; while cun- Whether 'tis madness in me, or some restless ning, like a skilful miner, works safely and impulse of good fortune, I yet am ignorant; but

unseen.

Bates. And therefore wisely. Force must Beo. Take it, and succeed then. I'll try no have nerves and sinews; cunning wants nei- more.

Stuke. '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 singlyOne thing I had forgot

Bev. What is it?

Stuke. Perhaps 'twere best forgotten. But

SCENE II.-BEVERLEY'S Lodgings.

Enter MRS. BEVERLEY and CHARLOTTE. Char. 'Twas all a scheme, a mean one; unworthy of my brother.

Mrs. B. No, I am sure it was not-Stukely I am open in my nature, and zealous for the is honest too, I know he is. This madness honour of my friend-Lewson speaks freely has undone them both. of you.

Bev. Of you I know he does.

Char. My brother irrecoverable- You are too spiritless a wife-A mournful tale, mixed

Stuke. I can forgive him for't; but, for my with a few kind words, will steal away your friend, I'm angry.

Beo. What says he of me?

soul. The world's too subtle for such goodness. Had I been by, he should have asked

Stuke. That Charlotte's fortune is embezzled your life sooner than those jewels.

-He talks on't loudly.

Mrs. B. He should have had it then.

Beo. He shall be silenced then-How heard [Warmly.] I live but to oblige him. She you of it?

Stuke. From many.
He questioned Bates
about it. You must account with him, he says.
Beo. Or he with me-and soon too.
Stuke. Speak mildly to him. Cautions

are best.

Beo. 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.

Beo. 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.

Beo. I am weary of being fooled. Stuke. And so am I-Here let us part then -These bodings of good fortune shall all be stifled; call them folly, and forgot them. farewell.

who can love and is beloved, like me, will do as much. Men have done more for mistresses, and women for a base deluder: and shall a wife do less? Your chidings hurt me, Charlotte.

Char. And come too late; they might have saved you else. How could he use you so? Mrs. B. 'Twas friendship did it. His heart was breaking for a friend.`·

Char. The friend that has betrayed him. Mrs. B. Pr'ythee don't think so. Char. To-morrow he accounts with me. Mrs. B. And fairly-I will not doubt it. Char. Unless a friend has wanted-I have no patience-Sister! sister! we are bound to curse this friend.

Mrs. B. My Beverley speaks nobly of him. Char. And Lewson truly-But I displease you with this talk.-To-morrow will instruct us. Mrs. B. Stay till it comes then-I would not think so hardly.

Char. Nor I, but from conviction-Yet we have hope of better days. My uncle is infirm, and of an age that threatens hourly-Or if he lives, you never have offended him; and for distresses so unmerited he will have pity.

Mrs. B. I know it, and am cheerful. We have no more to lose; and for what is gone, if it brings prudence home, the purchase was

Char. My Lewson will be kind too. While he and I have life and means you shall divide with us-And see, he's here.

Bev. No; stay a moment-How my poor heart's distracted! I have the bodings too; but whether caught from you, or prompted by my good or evil genius, I know not The trial well made. shall determine-And yet, my wifeStuke. 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 Lew. 'Tis best to interrupt you then. Few regain the height I have fallen from, heaven characters will bear a scrutiny; and where should forsake me in my latest hour, if I again the bad outweighs the good, he's safest that's mixed in these scenes, or sacrificed the hus- least talked of. What say you, madam? band's peace, his joy, and best affections, to avarice and infamy.

Stuke. I have resolved like you; and, since our motives are so honest, why should we fear success?

Bev. Come on then-Where shall we meet? Stuke. At Wilson's - Yet if it hurts you, leave me: I have misled you often.

Beo. We have misled each other-But come! Fortune is fickle, and may be tir'd with plaguing us-There let us rest our hopes.

Stuke. Yet think a little.

Bev. I cannot-thinking but distracts me. When desperation leads, all thoughts are vain;

Enter LEWSON.

We were just speaking of you.

[To Charlotte. Char. That I hate scandal, though a woman therefore talk seldom of you.

Mrs. B. Or, with more truth, that though a woman, she loves to praise-therefore talks always of you. I'll leave you to decide it.

[Exit.

Lew. How good and amiable! I came to talk in private with you, of matters that concern you. Char. What matters?

Lew. First, answer me sincerely to what I ask.
Char. Propose your question.

Lew. 'Tis now a tedious twelvemonth since, with an open and kind heart, you said you loved me. And when, in consequence of such

sweet words, I pressed for marriage, you gave other. Keep what you know a secret; and a voluntary promise that you would live for me. when we meet to-morrow, more may be Char. You think me changed then? known.-Farewell. [Exit. [Angrily. Char. My poor, poor sister! how would Lew. I did not say so. Time and a near this wound her! But I'll conceal it, and speak acquaintance with my faults may have brought comfort to her. change-if it be so; or for a moment, if you have wished this promise were unmade, here I acquit you of it-This is my question then; and with such plainness as I ask it, I shall entreat an answer. Have you repented of this promise?

[Exit.

SCENE III.—A Room in a Gaming-house.
Enter BEVERLEY and STUKELY.

Bev. Whither would you lead me?

[Angrily. Stuke. Where we may vent our curses. Char. Why am I doubted? Bev. Ay, on yourself, and those damned Lew. My doubts are of myself. I have my counsels that have destroyed me. A thousand faults, and you have observation. If, from my fiends were in that bosom, and all let loose to temper, my words, or actions, you have con- tempt me-I had resisted else.

ceived a thought against me, or even a wish Stuke. Go on, sir-I have deserved this for separation, all that has passed is nothing. from you. Char. Why now I'll answer you. doubts are prophecies-I am really changed. Lew. Indeed!

Your

Beo. And curses everlasting-Time is too scanty for them-

Stuke. What have I done?

Bev. What the arch-devil of old did—

Stuke. Myself unhurt; nay, pleased at your

Char. I could torment you now, as you have me; but it is not in my nature.-That I am soothed with false hopes for certain ruin. changed, I own: for what at first was inclination is now grown reason in me; and from destruction-So your words mean. Why, tell that reason, had I the world, nay, were it to the world. I am too poor to find a poorer than the poorest, and you too want- friend in't. ng bread-I would be yours, and happy. Lew. My kindest Charlotte! [Taking her Hand] Thanks are too poor for this-and words too weak! But if we loved so, why should our union be delayed?

Char. For happier times. The present are too wretched.

Lew. I may have reasons that press it now.
Char. What reasons?

Lew. The strongest reasons; unanswerable

ones.

Char. Be quick and name them.

Lew. First promise, that to-morrow, or the next day, you will be mine for ever. Char. I'do-though misery should succeed. Lew. Thus then I seize you! And with you every joy on this side heaven! Char. Now, sir, your secret. Lew. Your fortune's lost. Char. My fortune lost!-I'll study to be humble then. But was my promise claimed for this? How nobly generous! Where learned Tou this sad news?

Lew. From Bates, Stukeley's prime agent. I have obliged him, and he's grateful-He told it me in friendship, to warn me from my Charlotte.

Char. Twas honest in him, and I'll esteem him for it.

Bev. A friend! What's he? I had a friend.
Stuke. And have one still.

Beo. 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 into flames, that have consumed me. This friend were you to me.

Stuke. 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.

Stuke. What villains?

Beo. Dawson and the rest-We have been dupes to sharpers.

Stuke. 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?

Beo. Ay, damned ones. Repeated losses— Night after night, and no reverse- -Chance has no hand in this.

Stuke. I think more charitably; yet I am peevish in my nature, and apt to doubt-The world speaks fairly of this Dawson; so it does of the rest. We have watched them closely Lew. He knows much more than he has told. too. But 'tis a right usurped by losers, to Char. For me it is enough. And for your think the winners knaves-We'll have more generous love, I thank you from my soul. If manhood in us. You'd oblige me more, give me a little time. Bev. I know not what to think-This night Lew. Why time? It robs us of our happiness. has stung me to the quick-Blasted my repChar. I have a task to learn first. The little utation too-I have bound my honour to these pride this fortune gave me must be subdued. vipers; played meanly upon credit, till I tired Once we were equal; but now 'tis otherwise; them; and now they shun me, to rifle one and for a life of obligations, I have not learned another. What's to be done?

to bear it.

Stuke. Nothing. My counsels have been

Lew. Mine is that life. You are too noble. fatal.
Char. Leave me to think on't.

Beo. By heaven I'll not survive this shame

Lew. To-morrow then you'll fix my hap-Traitor! 'tis you have brought it on me. piness?

Char. All that I can I will.

[Taking hold of him] Show me the means to save me, or I'll commit a murder here, and

Lew. It must be so; we live but for each next upon myself.