Chapter IV: Act I: Scene I

_Enter Mrs. BEVERLEY, and CHARLOTTE._

_Mrs. Beverley._ 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. Bev._ 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 subsistance, and my husband's smiles, and I'll be the happiest of the poor. To Me now these lodgings want nothing but their master. Why d'you look so at me?

_Char._ That I may hate my brother.

_Mrs. Bev._ Don't talk so, Charlotte.

_Char._ Has he not undone you? Oh! this pernicious vice of gaming! But methinks his usual hours of four or five in the morning might have contented him; 'twas misery enough to wake for him till then: need he have staid out all night? I shall learn to detest him.

_Mrs. Bev._ Not for the first fault. He never slept from me before.

_Char._ Slept from you! No, no; his nights have nothing to do with sleep. How has this one vice driven him from every virtue! nay, from his affections too!--The time _was_, sister--

_Mrs. Bev._ And _is_. I have no fear of his affections. Would I knew that he were safe!

_Char._ From ruin and his companions. But that's impossible. His poor little boy too! What must become of Him?

_Mrs. Bev._ Why, want shall teach him industry. From his father's mistakes he shall learn prudence, and from his mother's resignation, patience. Poverty has no such terrors in it as you imagine. There's no condition of life, sickness and pain excepted, where happiness is excluded. The needy peasant, who rises early to his labour, enjoys more welcome rest at night for't. His bread is sweeter to him; 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, 'twere just he should be punished. He is my brother, 'tis 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. Bev._ 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't.

_Mrs. Bev._ What occasion?

_Char._ To support a sister.

_Mrs. Bev._ 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?

_Char._ Because my sister's miserable.

_Mrs. Bev._ You must not think so. I have my jewels left yet. I'll sell them to supply our wants; and when all's gone these hands shall toil for our support. The poor should be industrious--Why those tears, Charlotte?

_Char._ They flow in pity for you.

_Mrs. Bev._ All may be well yet. When he has nothing to lose, I shall fetter him in these arms again; and then what is it to be poor?

_Char._ Cure him but of this destructive passion, and my uncle's death may retrieve all yet.

_Mrs. Bev._ Ay, Charlotte, _could_ we cure him. But the disease of play admits no cure but poverty; and the loss of another fortune would but encrease 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. Bev._ Not of treachery to your Brother? That he loves play I know; but surely he is honest.

_Char._ He would fain be thought so; therefore I doubt him. Honesty needs no pains to set itself off.

_Mrs. Bev._ What now, Lucy?

SCENE II.

_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._

SCENE III.

_Enter JARVIS._

_Mrs. Bev._ 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. Bev._ The faithful creature! how he moves me!
[_To Charlotte._

_Char._ Not to have seen him had been cruelty.

_Jar._ I have forgot these apartments too. I remember none such in my young master's house; and yet I have lived in't these five and twenty years. His good father would not have dismissed me.

_Mrs. Bev._ He had no reason, Jarvis.

_Jar._ I was faithful to him while he lived, and when he died, he bequeathed me to his son. I have been faithful to Him too.

_Mrs. Bev._ I know it, I know it, Jarvis.

_Char._ We both know it.

_Jar._ I am an old man, madam, and have not a long time to live. I asked but to have died with him, and he dismissed me.

_Mrs. Bev._ Prithee no more of this! 'Twas his poverty that dismissed you.

_Jar._ Is he indeed so poor then? Oh! 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 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!--O, he was a brave little boy! And yet so merciful, he'd not have killed the gnat that stung him.

_Mrs. Bev._ Speak to him, Charlotte; for I cannot.

_Char._ When I have wiped my eyes.

_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. Bev._ No, Jarvis; we have enough yet. I thank you though, and will deserve your goodness.

_Jar._ But shall I see my master? And will he let me attend him in his distresses? I'll be no expence to him: and 'twill kill me to be refused. Where is he, madam?

_Mrs. Bev._ Not at home, Jarvis. You shall see him another time.

_Char._ To-morrow, or the next day. O, Jarvis! what a change is here!

_Jar._ A change indeed, madam! My old heart akes at it. And yet methinks--But here's somebody coming.

SCENE IV.

_Enter LUCY with STUKELY._

_Lucy._ Mr. Stukely, Madam.
[_Exit._

_Stu._ Good morning to you, Ladies. Mr. Jarvis, your servant. Where's my friend, madam? [_To Mrs. Beverley._

_Mrs. Bev._ I should have asked that question of You. Have not you seen him to-day?

_Stu._ No, madam.

_Char._ Nor last night?

_Stu._ Last night! Did not he come home then?

_Mrs. Bev._ No. Were not you together?

_Stu._ At the beginning of the evening; but not since. Where can he have staid?

_Char._ You call yourself his friend, Sir; why do you encourage him in this madness of gaming?

_Stu._ 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. Bev._ I don't doubt it, Sir; and I thank you. But where did you leave him last night?

_Stu._ 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. Bev._ No; he may take it ill.

_Char._ He may go as from himself.

_Stu._ 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. [_Bowing to the ladies._

_Jar._ I would fain see him, methinks.

_Mrs. Bev._ Do so then. But take care how you upbraid him. I have never upbraided him.

_Jar._ Would I could bring him comfort!
[_Exit._

_Stu._ Don't be too much alarmed, madam. All men have their errors, and their times of seeing them. Perhaps my friend's time is not come yet. But he has an uncle; and old men don't live for ever. You should look forward, madam: we are taught how to value a second fortune by the loss of a first. [_A knocking at the door._

_Mrs. Bev._ Hark!--No; that knocking was too rude for Mr. Beverley. Pray heaven he be well!

_Stu._ Never doubt it, madam. You shall be well too: every thing shall be well. [_Knocking again._

_Mrs. Bev._ The knocking is a little loud though. Who waits there? Will none of you answer?--None of you, did I say? Alas! I thought myself in my own house, surrounded with servants.

_Char._ I'll go, sister--But don't be alarmed so.
[_Exit._

_Stu._ What extraordinary accident have you to fear, madam?

_Mrs. Bev._ I beg your pardon; but 'tis ever thus with me in Mr. Beverley's absence. No one knocks at the door, but I fancy 'tis a messenger of ill news.

_Stu._ You are too fearful, madam; 'twas but one night of absence; and if ill thoughts intrude (as love is always doubtful) think of your worth and beauty, and drive them from your breast.

_Mrs. Bev._ What thoughts? I have no thoughts that wrong my husband.

_Stu._ Such thoughts indeed would wrong him. The world is full of slander; and every wretch that knows himself unjust, charges his neighbour with like passions; and by the general frailty, hides his own. If you are wise, and would be happy, turn a deaf ear to such reports: 'tis ruin to believe them.

_Mrs. Bev._ Ay, worse than ruin. 'Twould be to sin against conviction. Why was it mentioned?

_Stu._ To guard you against rumour. The sport of half mankind is mischief; and for a single error they make men devils. If their tales reach you, disbelieve them.

_Mrs. Bev._ What tales? By whom? Why told? I have heard nothing; or if I had, with all his errors, my Beverley's firm faith admits no doubt. It is my safety; my seat of rest and joy, while the storm threatens round me. I'll not forsake it. (_Stukely sighs, and looks down_) Why turn you from me? And why that sigh?

_Stu._ I was attentive, madam; and sighs will come we know not why. Perhaps I have been too busy. If it should seem so, impute my zeal to friendship, that meant to guard you against evil tongues. Your Beverley is wronged; slandered most vilely. My life upon his truth.

_Mrs. Bev._ And mine too. Who is't that doubts it? But no matter--I am prepared, Sir.--Yet why this caution?--You are my husband's friend; I think you mine too; the common friend of both. (_Pauses_) I had been unconcerned else.

_Stu._ For heaven's sake, madam, be so still! I meant to guard you _against_ suspicion, not to alarm it.

_Mrs. Bev._ Nor have you, Sir. Who told you of suspicion? I have a heart it cannot reach.

_Stu._ Then I am happy--I would say more, but am prevented.

SCENE V.

_Re-enter CHARLOTTE._

_Mrs. Bev._ Who was it, Charlotte?

_Char._ What a heart has that Jarvis!--A creditor, sister. But the good old man has taken him away. Don't distress his wife! Don't distress his sister! I could hear him say. 'Tis cruel to distress the afflicted. And when he saw me at the door, he begged pardon that his friend had knocked so loud.

_Stu._ I wish I had known of this. Was it a large demand, madam?

_Char._ I heard not that; but visits such as these, we must expect often. Why so distressed, sister? This is no new affliction.

_Mrs. Bev._ No, Charlotte; but I am faint with watching;

quite sunk and spiritless. Will you excuse me, Sir? I'll to my chamber, and try to rest a little.

_Stu._ Good thoughts go with you, madam. [_Exit Mrs. Beverley._ My bait is taken then. (_Aside._) Poor Mrs. Beverley! How my heart grieves to see her thus!

_Char._ Cure her, and be a friend then.

_Stu._ How cure her, madam?

_Char._ Reclaim my brother.

_Stu._ Ay; give him a new creation; or breathe another soul into him. I'll think on't, madam. Advice, I see, is thankless.

_Char._ Useless I am sure it is, if through mistaken friendship, or other motives, you feed his passion with your purse, and sooth it by example. Physicians, to cure fevers, keep from the patient's thirsty lip the cup that would inflame him; You give it to his hands. (_A knocking._) Hark, Sir! These are my brother's desperate symptoms. Another creditor.

_Stu._ One not so easily got rid of--What, Lewson!

SCENE VI.

_Enter LEWSON._

_Lew._ Madam, your servant. Yours, Sir. I was enquiring for you at your lodgings.

_Stu._ This morning? You had business then?

_Lew._ You'll call it by another name, perhaps. Where's Mr. Beverley, madam?

_Char._ We have sent to enquire for him.

_Lew._ Is he abroad then? He did not use to go out so early.

_Char._ No; nor to stay out so late.

_Lew._ Is that the case? I am sorry for it. But Mr. Stukely, perhaps, may direct you to him.

_Stu._ I have already, Sir. But what was your business with Me?

_Lew._ To congratulate you upon your late successes at play. Poor Beverley! But You are his friend; and there's a comfort in having successful friends.

_Stu._ And what am I to understand by this?

_Lew._ That Beverley's a poor man, with a rich friend; that's all.

_Stu._ Your words would mean something, I suppose. Another time, Sir, I shall desire an explanation.

_Lew._ And why not now? I am no dealer in long sentences. A minute or two will do for me.

_Stu._ But not for Me, Sir. I am slow of apprehension, and must have time and privacy. A lady's presence engages my attention. Another morning I may be found at home.

_Lew._ Another morning then, I'll wait upon you.

_Stu._ I shall expect you, Sir. Madam, your servant.
[_Exit._

_Char._ What mean you by this?

_Lew._ To hint to him that I know him.

_Char._ How know him? Mere doubt and supposition!

_Lew._ I shall have proof soon.

_Char._ And what then? Would you risk your life to be his punisher?

_Lew._ My life, madam! Don't be afraid. And yet I am happy in your concern for me. But let it content you that I know this Stukely. 'Twould be as easy to make him honest as brave.

_Char._ And what d'you intend to do?

_Lew._ Nothing, till I have proof. Yet my suspicions are well-grounded. But methinks, madam, I am acting here without authority. Could I have leave to call Mr. Beverley brother, his concerns would be my own. Why will you make my services appear officious?

_Char._ You know my reasons, and should not press me. But I am cold, you say: and cold I will be, while a poor sister's destitute. My heart bleeds for her! and till I see her sorrows moderated, love has no joys for me. _Lew._ Can I be less a friend by being a brother? I would not say an unkind thing; but the pillar of your house is shaken. Prop it with another, and it shall stand firm again. You must comply.

_Char._ And will, when I have peace within myself. But let us change the subject. Your business here this morning is with my sister. Misfortunes press too hard upon her: yet till to day she has borne them nobly.

_Lew._ Where is she?

_Char._ Gone to her chamber. Her spirits failed her.

_Lew._ I hear her coming. Let what has passed with Stukely be a secret. She has already too much to trouble her.

SCENE VII.

_Enter Mrs. BEVERLEY._

_Mrs. Bev._ Good morning, Sir. I heard your voice, and, as I thought, enquiring for me. Where's Mr. Stukely, Charlotte?

_Char._ This moment gone. You have been in tears, sister; but here's a friend shall comfort you.

_Lew._ Or if I add to your distresses, I'll beg your pardon, madam. The sale of your house and furniture was finished yesterday.

_Mrs. Bev._ I know it, Sir. I know too your generous reason for putting me in mind of it. But you have obliged me too much already.

_Lew._ There are trifles, madam, which you have set a value on: those I have purchased, and will deliver. I have a friend too that esteems you; he has bought largely, and will call nothing his, till he has seen you. If a visit to him would not be painful, he has begged it may be this morning.

_Mrs. Bev._ Not painful in the least. My pain is from the kindness of my friends. Why am I to be obliged beyond the power of return?

_Lew._ You shall repay us at your own time. I have a coach waiting at the door. Shall we have Your company, madam? [_To Charlotte._

_Char._ No. My brother may return soon; I'll stay and receive him.

_Mrs. Bev._ He may want a comforter, perhaps. But don't upbraid him, Charlotte. We shan't be absent long. Come, Sir, since I _must_ be so obliged.

_Lew._ 'Tis I that am obliged. An hour or less will be sufficient for us. We shall find you at home, madam? (_To Charlotte._) [_Exit with Mrs. Beverley._

_Char._ Certainly. I have but little inclination to appear abroad. O! this brother! this brother! to what wretchedness has he reduced us! [_Exit._

SCENE VIII. _Changes to _STUKELY'S_ lodgings._

_Enter STUKELY._

_Stu._ That Lewson suspects me, 'tis too plain. Yet why should he suspect me? I appear the friend of Beverley as well as he. But I am rich it seems: and so I am; thanks to another's folly and my own wisdom. To what use is wisdom, but to take advantage of the weak? This Beverley's my fool: I cheat him, and he calls me friend. But more business must be done yet. His wife's jewels are unsold;

so is the reversion of his uncle's estate. I must have these too. And then there's a treasure above all. I love his wife. Before she knew this Beverley, I loved her; but like a cringing fool, bowed at a distance, while He stept in and won her. Never, never will I forgive him for it. My pride, as well as love, is wounded by this conquest. I must have vengeance. Those hints, this morning, were well thrown in. Already they have fastened on her. If jealousy should weaken her affections, want may corrupt her virtue. My hate rejoyces in the hope. These jewels may do much. He shall demand them of her; which, when mine, shall be converted to special purposes.--What now, Bates?

SCENE IX.

_Enter BATES._

_Bates._ Is it a wonder then to see me? The forces are in readiness, and only wait for orders. Where's Beverley?

_Stu._ At last night's rendezvous, waiting for Me. Is Dawson with you?

_Bates._ Dressed like a nobleman; with money in his pocket, and a set of dice that shall deceive the devil.

_Stu._ That fellow has a head to undo a nation. But for the rest, they are such low-mannered, ill-looking dogs, I wonder Beverley has not suspected them.

_Bates._ No matter for manners and looks: do You supply them with money, and they are gentlemen by profession. The passion of gaming casts such a mist before the eyes, that the nobleman shall be surrounded with sharpers, and imagine himself in the best company.

_Stu._ There's that Williams too: it was He, I suppose, that called at Beverley's with the note this morning. What directions did you give him?

_Bates._ To knock loud, and be clamorous. Did not you see him?

_Stu._ No. The fool sneaked off with Jarvis. Had he appeared within-doors, as directed, the note had been discharged. I waited there on purpose. I want the women to think well of me; for Lewson's grown suspicious; he told me so himself.

_Bates._ What answer did you make him?

_Stu._ A short one. That I would see him soon, for farther explanation.

_Bates._ We must take care of him. But what have we to do with Beverley? Dawson and the rest are wondering at you.

_Stu._ Why let them wonder. I have designs above Their narrow reach. They see me lend him money; and they stare at me. But they are fools. I want him to believe me beggared by him.

_Bates._ And what then?

_Stu._ Ay, there's the question; but no matter. At night you may know more. He waits for me at Wilson's. I told the women where to find him.

_Bates._ To what purpose?

_Stu._ To save suspicion. It looked friendly; and they thanked me. Old Jarvis was dispatched to him.

_Bates._ And may intreat him home.

_Stu._ No; he experts money from me: but I'll have none. His wife's jewels must go. Women are easy creatures, and refuse nothing where they love. Follow me to Wilson's; but besure he sees you not. You are a man of character, you know; of prudence and discretion. Wait for me in an outer room; I shall have business for you presently. Come, Sir.

Let drudging fools by honesty grow great;
The shorter road to riches is deceit.

[_Exeunt._