The Gamester (1753) Part 17

_Bev._ I tell thee that they will not. Who sent thee hither?

_Jar._ My weeping mistress.

_Bev._ Am I so meek a husband then? that a commanding wife prescribes my hours, and sends to chide me for my absence?

Tell her, I'll not return.

_Jar._ Those words would kill her.

_Bev._ Kill her! Would they not be kind then? But she shall live to curse me--I have deserved it of her. Does she not hate me, Jarvis?

_Jar._ Alas, Sir! Forget your griefs, and let me lead you to her.

The streets are dangerous.

_Bev._ Be wise, and leave me then. The night's black horrors are suited to my thoughts. These stones shall be my resting-place.

(_Lies down._) Here shall my soul brood o'er its miseries; till with the fiends of h.e.l.l, and guilty of the earth, I start and tremble at the morning's light.

_Jar._ For pity's sake, Sir!--Upon my knees I beg you to quit this place, and these sad thoughts. Let patience, not despair, possess you. Rise, I beseech you. There's not a moment of your absence, that my poor mistress does not groan for.

_Bev._ Have I undone her, and is she still so kind? (_Starting up_) It is too much--My brain can't hold it--O, Jarvis! Jarvis! how desperate is that wretch's state, which only death or madness can relieve!

_Jar._ Appease his mind, good heaven! and give him resignation!

Alas, Sir, could beings in the other world perceive the events of this, how would your parents' blessed spirits grieve for you, even in heaven! Let me conjure you by Their honoured memories; by the sweet innocence of your yet helpless child, and by the ceaseless sorrows of my poor mistress, to rouze your manhood, and struggle with these griefs.

_Bev._ Thou virtuous, good old man! thy tears and thy entreaties have reached my heart, through all its miseries. O! had I listened to Thy honest warnings, no earthly blessing had been wanting to me!

I was so happy, that even a wish for more than I possessed, was arrogant presumption. But I have warred against the power that blest me, and now am sentenced to the h.e.l.l I merit.

_Jar._ Be but resigned, Sir, and happiness may yet be yours.

_Bev._ Prithee be honest, and do not flatter misery.

_Jar._ I do not, Sir--Hark! I hear voices--Come this way; we may reach home un-noticed.

_Bev._ Well, lead me then--Un-noticed did'st thou say? Alas! I dread no looks, but of those wretches I have made at home.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE IX. _changes to _STUKELY'S_._

_Enter STUKELY, and DAWSON._

_Stu._ Come hither, Dawson. My limbs are on the rack, and my soul shivers in me, till this night's business be complete. Tell me thy thoughts: is Bates determined? or does he waver?

_Daw._ At first he seemed irresolute; wished the employment had been mine; and muttered curses on his coward hand, that trembled at the deed.

_Stu._ And did he leave you so?

_Daw._ No. We walked together; and sheltered by the darkness, saw Beverley and Lewson in warm debate. But soon they cooled; and then I left them, to hasten hither; but not till 'twas resolved Lewson should die.

_Stu._ Thy words have given me life. That quarrel too was fortunate; for if my hopes deceive me not, it promises a grave to Beverley.

_Daw._ You misconceive me. Lewson and he were friends.

_Stu._ But My prolific brain shall make them enemies. If Lewson falls, he falls by Beverley: an upright jury shall decree it. Ask me no questions, but do as I direct. This writ (_Takes out a pocket book_) for some days past, I have treasured here, till a convenient time called for its use. That time is come. Take it, and give it to an officer. It must be served this instant.

[_Gives a paper._

_Daw._ On Beverley?

_Stu._ Look at it. 'Tis for the sums that I have lent him.

_Daw._ Must he to prison then?

_Stu._ I asked obedience; not replies. This night a jail must be his lodging. 'Tis probable he's not gone home yet. Wait at his door, and see it executed.

_Daw._ Upon a beggar? He has no means of payment.

_Stu._ Dull and insensible! If Lewson dies, who was it killed him?

Why, he that was seen quarrelling with him; and I that knew of Beverley's intents, arrested him in friendship--A little late, perhaps; but 'twas a virtuous act, and men will thank me for it.

Now, Sir, you understand me?

_Daw._ Most perfectly; and will about it.

_Stu._ Haste then; and when 'tis done, come back and tell me.

_Daw._ 'Till then farewel.

[_Exit._

_Stu._ Now tell thy tale, fond wife! And, Lewson, if again thou can'st insult me, I'll kneel and own thee for my master.

_Not av'rice now, but vengeance fires my breast And one short hour must make me curst, or blest._

[_Exit._

ACT V.

SCENE I. _Enter STUKELY, BATES, and DAWSON._

_Bates._ Poor Lewson! But I told you enough last night. The thoughts of him are horrible to me.

_Stu._ In the street, did you say? And no one near him?

_Bates._ By his own door; he was leading me to his house.

I pretended business with him, and stabbed him to the heart, while he was reaching at the bell.

_Stu._ And did he fall so suddenly?