The Gamester (1753) Part 16

_Bev._ How like an out-cast do I wander! Loaded with every curse, that drives the soul to desperation! The midnight robber, as he walks his rounds, sees by the glimmering lamp my frantic looks, and dreads to meet me. Whither am I going? My home lies there; all that is dear on earth it holds too; yet are the gates of death more welcome to me. I'll enter it no more--Who pa.s.ses there? Tis Lewson.

He meets me in a gloomy hour; and memory tells me, he has been meddling with my fame.

SCENE VII.

_Enter LEWSON._

_Lew._ Beverley! Well met. I have been busy in your affairs.

_Bev._ So I have heard, Sir; and now must thank you for't.

_Lew._ To-morrow I may deserve your thanks. Late as it is, I go to Bates. Discoveries are making that an arch villain trembles at.

_Bev._ Discoveries are made, Sir, that You shall tremble at. Where is this boasted spirit? this high demeanour, that was to call me to account? You say I have wronged my sister--Now say as much. But first be ready for defence, as I am for resentment.

[_Draws._

_Lew._ What mean you? I understand you not.

_Bev._ The coward's stale acquittance. Who, when he spreads foul calumny abroad, and dreads just vengeance on him, cries out, what mean you, I understand you not.

_Lew._ Coward, and calumny! Whence are these words? But I forgive, and pity you.

_Bev._ Your pity had been kinder to my fame. But you have traduced it; told a vile story to the public ear, that I have wronged my sister.

_Lew._ 'Tis false. Shew me the man that dares accuse me.

_Bev._ I thought you brave, and of a soul superior to low malice; but I have found you, and will have vengeance. This is no place for argument.

_Lew._ Nor shall it be for violence. Imprudent man! who in revenge for fancied injuries, would pierce the heart that loves him! But honest friendship acts from itself, unmoved by slander, or ingrat.i.tude. The life you thirst for, shall be employed to serve you.

_Bev._ 'Tis thus you would compound then! First do a wrong beyond forgiveness; and to redress it, load me with kindness unsolicited.

I'll not receive it. Your zeal is troublesbme.

_Lew._ No matter. It shall be useful.

_Bev._ It will not be accepted.

_Lew._ It must. You know me not.

_Bev._ Yes; for the slanderer of my fame: who under shew of friendship, arraigns me of injustice; buzzing in every ear foul breach of trust, and family dishonour.

_Lew._ Have I done this? Who told you so?

_Bev._ The world. 'Tis talked of everywhere. It pleased you to add threats too: you were to call me to account --Why, do it now then; I shall be proud of such an arbiter.

_Lew._ Put up your sword, and know me better. I never injured you.

The base suggestion comes from Stukely: I see him and his aims.

_Bev._ What aims? I'll not conceal it; _'twas_ Stukely that accused you.

_Lew._ To rid him of an enemy: perhaps of two. He fears discovery, and frames a tale of falsehood, to ground revenge and murder on.

_Bev._ I must have proof of this.

_Lew._ Wait till to-morrow then.

_Bev._ I will.

_Lew._ Good night. I go to serve you. Forget what's past, as I do; and chear your family with smiles. To-morrow may confirm them, and make all happy.

[_Exit._

_Bev._ (_Pausing_) How vile, and how absurd is man! His boasted honour is but another name for pride; which easier bears the consciousness of guilt, than the world's just reproofs. But 'tis the fashion of the times; and in defence of falsehood and false honour, men die martyrs. I knew not that my nature was so bad.

[_Stands musing._

SCENE VIII.

_Enter BATES, and JARVIS._

_Jar._ This way the noise was--and yonder's my poor master.

_Bates._ I heard him at high words with Lewson. The cause I know not.

_Jar._ I heard him too. Misfortunes vex him.

_Bates._ Go to him, and lead him home--But he comes this way--I'll not be seen by him.

[_Exit._

_Bev._ (_Starting._) What fellow's that? (_Seeing Jarvis_). Art thou a murderer, friend? Come, lead the way; I have a hand as mischievous as thine; a heart as desperate too--Jarvis!--To bed, old man, the cold will chill thee.

_Jar._ Why are you wandering at this late hour?--Your sword drawn too!--For heav'n's sake sheath it, Sir; the sight distracts Me.

_Bev._ Whose voice was that?

[_Wildly_.

_Jar._ 'Twas mine, Sir. Let me intreat you to give the sword to me.

_Bev._ Ay, take it; quickly take it--Perhaps I am not so curst, but heav'n may have sent thee at this moment to s.n.a.t.c.h me from perdition.

_Jar._ Then I am blest.

_Bev._ Continue so, and leave me. My sorrows are contagious. No one is blest that's near me.

_Jar._ I came to seek you, Sir.

_Bev._ And now thou hast found me, leave me. My thoughts are wild, and will not be disturbed.

_Jar._ Such thoughts are best disturbed.