A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS.-BY EDWARD MOORE. SCENE I.-Beverley's Lodgings. MRS. BEVERLEY and CHARLOTTE discovered, seated. Mrs. B. Be comforted, my dear; all may be well yet. And now, methinks, the lodgings begin to look with another face. O sister, sister! if these were all my hardships; if all I had to complain of were no more than quitting my house, servants, equipage, and show, your pity would be weakness. Char. Is poverty nothing, then? Mrs. B. Nothing in the world, if it affected only me. While we had a fortune, I was the happiest of the rich and now, 'tis gone, give me but a bare subsistence, and my husband's smiles, and I'll be the happiest of the poor. Why do you look at me? Char. That I may hate my brother. No. 1-THE BRITISH DRAMA, MRS. BEVERLEY CHARLOTTE. LUCY. Char. Has he not undone you?-O! this perni. cious vice of gaming!-(Rises.) But, methinks, his usual hours of four or five in the morning might have contented him; it was misery enough to wake for him till then: need he have staid out all night? I shall learn to detest him. Mrs. B. Not for the first fault. He never slept from me before. No, no, his nights have How has this one vice Nay, from his Char. Slept from you! nothing to do with sleep. driven him from every virtue! affections too! The time was, sisterMrs. B. And is. I have no fear of his affections, 'Would I knew that he were safe. (Rises.) Char. From ruin and his companions-but that's impossible. His poor little boy, too! What must become of him? Mrs. B. Why, want shall teach him industry. From his father s mistakes he shall learn prudence, and from his mother's resignation, patience. Po when he died, he bequeathed me to his son. I have been faithful to him too. Mrs. B. I know it, I know it, Jarvis. Jar. I am an old man, madam, and have not s long time to live. I asked but to have died with him, and he dismissed me. verly has no such terrors in it as you imagine. | There's no condition of life, sickness, and pain excepted, where happiness is excluded. The husbandman, who rises early to his labour, enjoys more welcome rest at night for it; his home happier; his family dearer; his enjoyments surer. The sun that rouses him in the morning, sets in the evening to release him. All situations have their comforts, if sweet contentment dwell in the heart. But my poor Beverley has none. The thought of having ruined those he loves, is misery for ever to him. 'Would I could ease his mind of that! Char. If he alone, were ruined, it were just he should be punished. He is my brother, it is true; but when I think of what he has done, of the fortune you brought him, of his own large estate, too, squandered away upon this vilest of passions, and among the vilest of wretches,-O! I have no patience. My own little fortune is untouched, he says. 'Would I were sure on't! Mrs. B. And so, you may-'twould be a sin to doubt it. Char. I will be sure on't 'twas madness in me to give it to his management. But I'll demand it from him this morning. I have a melancholy occasion for it Mrs. B. What occasion? Char. To support a sister Mrs. B. No; I have no need on't Take it, and reward a lover with it. The generous Lewson deserves much more. Why won't you make him happy? Chan. Because my sister is miserable Mrs. B, 'Prythee, no more of this! 'Twas his poverty that dismissed you. Jar. Is he indeed so poor, then? O, he was the joy of my old heart!-But must his creditors have all? And have they sold his house too? His father built it when he was but a prating boy. The times that I have carried him in these arms! And, Jarvis, says he, when a beggar has asked charity of me, why should people be poor? You shan't be poor, Jarvis; if I was a king, nobody should be poor; yet, he is poor. And then he was so brave!, he was a brave little boy! and yet so merciful, he'd not have killed the gnat that stung him, Mrs. B. Speak to him, Charlotte; for I cannot. Jar. I have a little money, madam: it might have been more, but I have loved the poor. All that I have is yours. Mrs. B. No, Jarvis; we have enough yet; I thank you, though, and will deserve your good ness. Jar. But shall I see my master? And will he let me attend him in his distresses? I'll be no expense to him; and it will kill me to be refused. Where is be, madam? Mrs. B. Not at home, Jarvis, You shall see him another time. Chan To-morrow, or the next day.-O, Jarvis! What a change is here! Jar. A change, indeed, madam! My old heart inaches at it. And yet, methinks,-But here's something coming. Mrs. B. You must not think so. I have my jewels left yet; and when all is gone, these hands shall toil for our support The poor should be dustrious.Why those tears, Charlotte.? Char. They flow in pity for you. Mrs. B. All may be well yet. nothing to lose, I shall fetter him in these arms again; and then, what is it to be poor? When he has Char. Cure him but of this destructive passion, and my uncle's death may retrieve all yet. Mrs. B. Ay, Charlotte, could we cure him: but the disease of play admits no cure but poverty; and the loss of another fortune would but increase his shame and his affliction. Will Mr. Lewson call this morning? Char. He said so last night. He gave me hints too, that he had suspicions of our friend Stukely. Mrs. B. Not of treachery to my husband? That he loves play, I know; but surely he is honest. Char. He labours to be thought so; therefore, I doubt him. Honesty needs no pains to set itself off. Enter LUCY. Lucy. Your old steward, madam. I had not the heart to deny him admittance, the good old man begged so hard for it. [Exit. Enter JARVIS. Mrs. B. Is this well, Jarvis? I desired you to avoid me. Jar. Did you, madam? I am an old man, and had forgot. Perhaps, too, you forbad my tears; but I am old, madam, and age will be forgetful. Mrs. B. The faithful creature! Jar. I have forget these apartments, too. I remember none such in my young master's house; and yet I have lived in it these five-and-twenty years. His good father would not have dismissed me. Mrs. B. He had no reason, Jarvis. Jar. I was faithful to him while he lived, and Enter LUCY, with STUKELY. [Exit. Stuk Good morning to you, ladies, Mr. Jarvis, your servant. Where's my friend, madam? (To Mrs Beverley.) Mrs. B. I should have asked that question of you. Have you seen him to-day? Stuk. No, madam. Char. Nor last night? Stuk. Last night! Did he not come home, then? Char. You call yourself his friend, sir; why do you encourage him in this madness of gambling? Stuk. You have asked me that question before, madam; and I told you, my concern was that I could not save him; Mr. Beverley is a man, madam; and, if the most friendly entreaties have no effect upon him, I have no other means. My purse has been his, even to the injury of my fortune. If that has been encouragement, I deserve censure; but I meant it to retrieve him. Mrs. B. I do not doubt it, sir; and I thank you. But where did you leave him last night? Stuk. At Wilson's, madam, if I ought to tell; in company I did not like. Possibly, he may be there still. Mr. Jarvis knows the house, I believe. Jar. Shall I go, madam? Mrs. B. No; he may take it ill. Char. He may go, as from himself. Stuk. And, if he pleases, madam, without naming me: I am faulty myself, and should conceal the errors of a friend: but I can refuse nothing here. Jar. I would fain see him, methinks. Mrs. B. (To Jarvis.) Do so, then. But take care |