should be tried, and my heart whispers me success, I am deserted-turned loose to beggary; while you have hoards.

Bev. What hoards? Name them, and take them. Stuk. Jewels.

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

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

Bev. Think of some other means, then.
Stuk. I have; and you rejected them.
Bev. Pr'ythee, let me be a man.

Stuk. Ay, and your friend a poor one. But I have done. And for these trinkets of a woman, why, let her keep them to deck out pride with, and shew a laughing world she has finery to starve in. Bev. No; she shall yield up all: my friend demands it. But needs he have talked lightly of her? The jewels that she values are truth and innocence; those will adorn her ever: for the rest, she wore them for a husband's pride, and to his wants will give them. You know her not. Where shall we meet?

Stuk. No matter. I have changed my mind. Leave me to a prison; 'tis the reward of friendship.

Bev. Perish mankind first! Leave you to a prison? No; fallen as you see me, I am not that wretch: nor would I change this heart, o'ercharged as it is with folly and misfortune, for one most prudent and most happy, if callous to a friend's distresses.

Stuk. You are too warm.

Bev. In such a cause, not to be warm is to be frozen. Farewell. I'll meet you at your lodgings. Stuk. Reflect a little: the jewels may be lost: better not hazard them. I was too pressing. Bev. And I ungrateful. Reflection takes up time: I have no leisure for it. Within an hour expect me. [Exit. Stuk. The thoughtless, shallow prodigal! We shall have sport at night, then. But hold: the jewels are not ours yet; the lady may refuse them; the husband may relent too; 'tis more than probable. I'll write a note to Beverley, and the contents shall spur him to demand them. Bates and the rest think me 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 so. Beverley calls upon me at my lodgings, and we return together. Hasten, I say; the rogues will scatter else.

Bates. Not till their leader bids them.

Stuk. Give them the word, and follow me; I must advise with you. This is a day of business.

[Exeunt. SCENE II.-Beverley's Lodgings.-Tables and chairs. 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

Bev. That I have lost your fortune! He dares not think so.

Char. Nor does he. You are too quick at gues sing. 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 chiding? Char. To vindicate her brother. Bev. How, if he need no vindication? Char. I fain would hope so.

Bev. Ay, would, and cannot. Leave it to time, then; it will satisfy all doubts.

Char. Mine are already satisfied.

Bev. It is well. And when the subject is renewed, speak to me like a sister, and I will answer like a brother.

Char. To tell me I am a beggar: why, tell it now. I that can bear the ruin of those dearer to me, the ruin of a sister and her infant, can bear that too.

Bev. No more of this; you wring my heart! Char. 'Would that the misery were all you own! But innocence must suffer. Unthinking rioter!whose home was heaven to him: an angel dwelt there, and a little cherub, that crowned his days with blessings! how he has lost this heaven to league with devils!

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

Char. Or, if 'tis gone, why, farewell all! But I'll upbraid no more. What heaven permits, perhaps, it may ordain; and sorrow then is sinful Yet that the husband, father, brother, should be its instruments of vengeance! 'tis grievous to know that.

Bev. If you are my sister, spare the remembrance; it wounds too deeply. To-morrow shall clear all; and, when the worst is known, it may be better than your fears. Comfort my wife; and for the pains of absence I'll make atonement.

(A knocking at the door.) her. Affections, such as hers, are prying, and lend Char. Hark! she comes! Look cheerfully upon those eyes, that read the soul.

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

Bev. My love! How fares it? I have been a truant husband.

Mrs. B. But we meet now, and that heals all Doubts and alarms I have had; but, in this dear embrace, I bury and forget them. My friend here has been, indeed, a friend. Charlotte, 'tis you must thank him : your brother's thanks and mine are of too little value.

Bev. Yet, what we have, we'll pay. I thank you, sir, and am obliged. I would say more, but that your goodness to the wife upbraids the husband's follies. Had I been wise, she had not trespassed on your bounty.

Lew. Nor has she trespassed. The little I have done, acceptance overpays.

Char. So friendship thinks

Mrs. B. And doubles obligations, by striving to conceal them. We'll talk another time on't. You are too thoughtful, love.

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

Bev. I have: the cause was avarice.
Char. And you the tempter?

Bev. A ruined friend-ruined by too much kind.

ness.

Lew. Ay, worse than ruined: stabbed in his fame, mortally stabbed; riches cannot cure him. Bev. Or if they could, those I have drained him of. Something of this he hinted in the morning,that Lewson had. Why these suspicions?

He

Mrs. B. And brings good news; at least, I'll hope What says he, love?

Bev. Why this, too much for patience: yet he directs me to conceal it from you. (Reads.)

him.

Bev. As I would, those that wrong him. You are too busy, sir.

Mrs. B. No; not too busy ;-mistaken, perhaps; that had been milder.

Lew. No matter, madam; I can bear this, and praise the heart that prompts it. Pity such friendship should be so misplaced!

Bev. Again, sir? But I'll bear too. You wrong him, Lewson, and will be sorry for it. Char. Ay, when 'tis proved he wrongs him. The world is full of hypocrites.

Bev. And Stukeley one! so you'd infer, I think; I'll hear ne more of this: my heart aches for him; I have undone him.

Lew. The world says otherwise.

Bev. The world is false, then! I have business with you, love. We'll leave them to their rancour. (Going.)

Char. No; we shall find room enough within for it. This way, sir.

"Let your haste to see me be the only proof of your I have determined, since we parted, to bid adieu to England, choosing rather to forsake my country, than to owe my freedom in it to the means we talked of. Keep this a secret at home, and hasten to the R. STUKELY."

ruined

Ruined by friendship! I must relieve or follow

him.

Mrs. B. Follow him, did you say? Then I am lost indeed!

Bev. O, 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 the bitterest pangs, and all thy smiles to tears.-D-d! d-d infatuation!

Mrs. B. 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 and his wronged

Bev. No, no; It must not be. sinned; 'tis I alone must suffer. those means to keep my child mother from want and wretchedness. Mrs. B. 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. B. My jewels! Trifles, not worth the speak

[Exeunt Charlotte and Lewson. Bev. 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.

Bev. No; you are charity. Meekness and everduring patience live in that heart, and love, that knows no change. Why did I ruin you?

Mrs. B. You have not ruined me. I have no wants when you are present, no wishes in your absence, but to be blest with your return. Be but resigned to what has happened, and I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice.;

Bev. My generous girl! But memory will be busy; still crowding on my thoughts, to sour the present by the past. I have another pang too. 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.

Mrs. B. No; I hope otherwise.

Bev. To hope must be to act; the charitable wish feeds not the hungry. Some thing must be done.

Mrs. B. What?

Bev. In bitterness of heart he told me, just now he told me I had undone him! Could I hear that, and think of happiness? No! I have disclaimed it, while he is miserable.

Mrs. B. The world may mend with us, and then we may be grateful; there's comfort in that hope. Bev. Ay; 'tis the sick man's cordial, his promised cure: while, in preparing it, the patient dies. Enter LUCY.

What now?

Bev. How little do I seem before such virtues! Mrs. B. No more, my love. I kept them, till occasion called to use them: now is the occasion, and I'll resign them cheerfully.

Ber. Why, we'll be rich in love, then. Mrs. B. 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,
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 L-Stukely's Lodgings.
Enter STUKELY and BATES.

Stuk. 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 ounning. The nobler law is force: but then there is danger in it; 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.

Stuk. And bind him to the ground. Why we will erect a shrine for nature, and be her oracles. Conscience is weakness; fear made it, and fear

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. It was friendship did it. His heart was breaking for a friend.

Char. The friend that has betrayed him.
Mrs. B. 'Pr'ythee, do not 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 live, you never have offended him; and for distresses so unmerited he will have pity.

Mrs. B. I know it, and am cheerful.

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

Enter LEWSON.

Mrs. B. We were just speaking of you.

Lew. It is best to interrupt you, then. Few characters will bear a scrutiny; and, where the bad outweighs the good, he is safest that is least talked of. What say you, madam?

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. I come, 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. It is now a tedious twelve-month, 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 a voluntary promise that you would live for me.

Char. You think me changed, then? Lew. I did not say so. This is my question; and with such plainness as I ask it, I shall entreat an answer:-Have you repented of this promise? Char. Why am I doubted?

Lew. My doubts are of myself. I have faults, and you have observation. If, from my temper, my words or actions, you have conceived a thought against me, or even a wish for separation, all that has passsd is nothing.

Char. Why, now I'll answer you; your doubts are prophecies, I am really changed. Lew. Indeed!

Char. I could torment you now, as you have me; but it is not in my nature. That I am changed, Í own: for what at first was inclination, is now grown reason in me; and from that reason had I the world-nay, were I poorer than the poorest, and you too wanting bread-I would be yours, and happy.

Lew. My kindest Charlotte!-(Takes her hand.)— Thanks are too poor for this, and words too weak! -But if we love so, why should our union any longer 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 is lost.

Char. My fortune lost!-Where learnt you this sad news?

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

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

Lew. This is the time I am to meet him again.He knows much more than he has told.

Char. For me it is enough; and, for your generous love, I thank you from my soul.

Lew. To-morrow, then, you fix my happiness.
Char. All that I can, I will.

Lew. It must be so; we live but for each other.Keep what you know a secret; and, when we meet to-morrow, more may be known.-"Till then, farewell! [Exeunt Lewson and Charlotte. SCENE III-A Gaming House. Enter STUKELY, BEVERLEY, and six Gentlemen, through door in centre.

Bev. Whither would you lead me?

Stuk. Where we may vent our curses.

Bev. Ay, on yourself, and those d-d counsels that have destroyed me. Ten thousand fleuds were in that bosom, and all let loose to tempt me, I had resisted else.

Stuk. Go on, sir:-I have deserved this from you. Bev. And curses everlasting:-time is too scanty for them.

Stuk. What have I done?

Bev. What the arch fiend of old did,-soothed with false hopes, for certain ruin.

Stuk. Myself unhurt; nay, pleased at your destruction:-so your words mean. Why, tell it to the world: I am too poor to find a friend in it. Bev. A friend! What is he? I had a friend. Stuk. 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.

Stuk. A little more perhaps:-the friend who gave his ali 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.
Stuk. What villains?

Bev. Dawson, and the rest.—We have been dupes to sharpers.

Stuk. 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-d ones;-: repeated losses, - night after night, and no reverse:-chance has no hand in this.

Stuk. 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 it is 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, until I tired them; and now they shun me, to rifle one another. What is to be

done?

Mrs. B. 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.

Stuk. Why do it, then, and rid me of ingratitude. Bev. 'Pr'ythee 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 it. Speak quickly; tell me if in this wreck of fortune one hope remains? Name it, and be my oracle.

Stuk. To vent your curses on: you have bestowed them liberally.-Take your own counsel: and, should a desperate hope present itself, it will 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.

Stuk. You have an uncle.

Bev. Ay, what of him?

I

[Exit. Stuk. To meet you thus alone, madam, was what wished. Unseasonable visits, when friendship warrants them needs no excuse:-therefore I make none. [your friend?

Mrs. B. What mean you, sir? And where's Stuk. Men may have secrets, madam, which their best friends are not admitted to. We parted in the morning, not soon to meet again.

Mrs. B. You mean to leave us, then?-to leave your country too? I am no stranger to your ressons, and pity your misfortunes.

Stuk. Your pity has undone you. Could Beverley do this? That letter was a forged one; a

Bev. What mean you?

Stuk. That the reversion of his estate is yours; and will bring money to pay debts with:-nay more, it may retrieve what is past.

Bev. Or leave my child a beggar.

Stuk. And what is 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.

Stuk. 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.

Stuk. 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. [worst: Bev. Succeed what will, this night I'll dare the 'Tis loss of fear, to be completely curs'd. [Exit. Stuk. 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.-A tale of art may 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 sex, if wronged in love, or thinking that she's wronged, becomes a tigress 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 IV.-Beverley's Lodgings. Enter MRS. BEVERLEY and LUCY. Mrs. B. Did Charlotte tell you anything? Lucy. No, madam.

wrote it not.

Mrs. B. Impossible!-Whence came it, then? Stuk. Wronged as I am, madam, I must speak plainly,

Mrs. B. Do so, and ease me. Your hints have troubled me. Reports, you say, are stirring.-Reports of whom? You wished me not to credit them. What, sir, are these reports?

Stuk. I thought 'em slander, madam; and cantioned you in friendship; lest from officious tongues the tale has reached you with double aggravation. Mrs. B. Proceed, sir.

Stuk. It is a debt due to my fame, due to an injured wife too: We both are injured.

Mrs. B. How injured! and who has injured us ? Stuk. My friend, your husband.

Mrs. B. You would resent for both, then? But know, sir, my injuries are my own, and do not need a champion.

Stuk. Be not too hasty, madam. I come not in resentment, madam, but for acquittance. You thought me poor; and to the feigned distresses of a friend, gave up your jewels.

Mrs. B. I gave them to a husband.
Stuk. Who gave them to a

Mrs. B. What? Whom did he give them to ?
Stuk. A mistress.

[avarice.

Mrs. B. No; on my life, he did not. Stuk. Himself confessed it, with curses on her Mrs. B. I'll not believe it. He has no mistress; or, if he has, why is it told to me?

Stuk. To guard you against insults. He told me that, to move you to compliance, he forged that letter, pretending I was ruined, ruined by him too. The fraud succeeded; and what a trusting wife bestowed in pity, was lavished on a wanton.

Mrs. B. Then I am lost indeed, and my afflictions are too powerful for me. His follies I have borne without upbraiding, and saw the approach of poverty without a tear. My affection, my strong affection, supported me through every trial.

Stuk. Be patient, madam.

Mrs. B. Patient! The barbarous, ungrateful man!