The Gamester (1753) Part 8

_Mrs. Bev._ 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 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.

_Bev._ And Stukely one--So you'd infer, I think. I'll hear no more of this--My heart akes for him--I have undone him.

_Lew._ The world says otherwise.

_Bev._ The world is false then. I have business with you, love. (_To Mrs. Beverley._) We'll leave them to their rancour.

[_Going._

_Char._ No. We shall find room within for't. Come this way, Sir.

[_To Lewson._

_Lew._ Another time my friend will thank me; that time is hastening too.

[_Exit with Charlotte._

_Bev._ They hurt me beyond bearing. Is Stukely false? Then honesty has left us!

'Twere sinning against heaven to think so.

_Mrs. Bev._ I never doubted him.

_Bev._ No; You are charity. Meekness and ever-during patience live in that heart, and love that knows no change--Why did I ruin you?

_Mrs. Bev._ You have not ruined me. I have no wants when You are present, nor 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. Bev._ 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. Bev._ No; I hope otherwise.

_Bev._ To hope must be to act. The charitable wish feeds not the hungry. Something must be done.

_Mrs. Bev._ 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. Bev._ 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.--What now?

SCENE VIII.

_Enter LUCY._

_Lucy._ A letter, Sir.

[_Delivers it, and exit._

_Bev._ The hand is Stukely's.

[_Opens, and reads it to himself._

_Mrs. Bev._ And brings good news--at least I'll hope so--What says he, love?

_Bev._ Why, this--too much for patience. Yet he directs me to conceal it from you.

[_Reads._

Let your haste to see me be the only proof of your esteem for me. I have determined, since we parted, to bid adieu to England; chusing 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 ruined R. STUKELY

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

_Mrs. Bev._ 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 bitterest pangs! and all Thy smiles to tears. d.a.m.ned, d.a.m.ned infatuation!

_Mrs. Bev._ 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.

_Bev._ 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. Bev._ What means?

_Bev._ I came to rob you of them; but cannot--dare not; those jewels are your sole support--I should be more than monster to request them.

_Mrs. Bev._ My jewels! Trifles, not worth the speaking of, if weighed against a husband's peace; but let them purchase That, and the world's wealth is of less value.

_Bev._ Amazing goodness! How little do I seem before such virtues!

_Mrs. Bev._ No more, my love. I kept them till occasion called to use them; now is the occasion, and I'll resign them chearfully.

_Bev._ Why, we'll be rich in love then--But this excess of kindness melts me. Yet for a friend one would do much. He has denied Me nothing.

_Mrs. Bev._ 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._