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.

low me.

Come, folStuke. 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.

Bev. Succeed what will, this night I'll dare the worst. 'Tis loss of fear to be completely curst.

[Exit, L. Stuke. (L. c.) [Looking after him.] 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. (R.) But 'tis the curse of thinking minds to raise up difficulties. Fools may conquer women. Fearless of dangers which they see not, they press on boldly, and, by persisting, prosper. Yet may a tale of art do much. Charlotte is sometimes absent. The seeds of jealousy are sown already. 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 tygress 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, L.

SCENE IV.-Beverley's Lodgings.

Enter MRS. BEVERLEY and Lucy, R.

Mrs. Bev. (c.) Did Charlotte tell you any thing?
Lucy. (L. c.) No, madam.

If I

Mrs. Bev. 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.

bring you comfort.

Yet her return may

Mrs. Bev. No, my kind girl; I was not born for it. But why do I distress thee? bleeds for the ills of others.

Thy sympathizing heart
What pity that thy mis-

tress can't reward thee! But there's a Power above, that sees, and will remember all. [Knocking, L.] Hark! there's some one entering.

Lucy. Perhaps 'tis my master, madam. [Exit, L. Mrs. Bev. Let him be well too, and I am satisfied.[Goes to the door, and listens.] No, 'tis another's voice.

Enter Lucy and STUKELY, L.

Lucy. Mr. Stukely, madam.

[Exit, L. Stuke. (c.) To meet you thus alone, madam, was what I wished. Unseasonable visits, when friendship warrants them, need no excuse-therefore I make none.

Mrs. Bev. (R. c.) What mean you, sir? And where is your friend?

Stuke. Men may have secrets, madam, which their best friends are not admitted to. We parted in the morning, not soon to meet again.

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

Stuke. Your pity has undone you. Could Beverley do this? That letter was a false one; a mean contrivance to rob you of your jewels. I wrote it not.

Mrs. Bev. Impossible! Whence came it then?

Stuke. Wronged as I am, madam, I must speak plainly.

Mrs. Bev. 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?

Stuke. I thought them slander, madam; and cautioned in friendship, lest from officious tongues the tale had reached you with double aggravation.

Mrs. Bev. Proceed, sir.

Stuke. It is a debt due to my fame; due to an injured wife too. We are both injured.

Mrs. Bev. How injured? And who has injured us? Stuke. My friend-your husband.

Mrs. Bev. You would resent for both then; but know, sir, my injuries are my own, and do not need a champion.

Stuke. Be not too hasty, madam. I come not in resentment, but for acquittance. You thought me poor;

D

and to the feigned distresses of a friend gave up your

jewels.

Mrs. Bev. I gave them to a husband.

Stuke. Who gave them to a

Mrs. Bev. What? whom did he give them to?

Stuke. A mistress.

Mrs. Bev. No; on my life he did not.

Stuke. Himself confessed it, with curses on her avarice.

Mrs. Bev. I'll not believe it. He has no mistress; or, if he has, why is it told to me?

He told me,

Stuke. To guard you against insults. 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. Bev. 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 affections, my strong affections, supported me through every trial.

Stuke. Be patient, madam.

Mrs. Bev. Patient! The barbarous, ungrateful man! And does he think that the tenderness of my heart is his best security for wounding it? But he shall find that injuries such as these can arm my weakness for vengeance and redress. Goes L.

Stuke. [Going R.] Ha! then I may succeed. [Aside.] Redress is in your power.

Mrs. Bev. (L. c.) What redress?

Stuke. (c.) Forgive me, madam, if, in my zeal to serve you, I hazard your displeasure. Think of your wretched state. Already want surrounds you-Is it in patience to bear that? To see your helpless little one robbed of his birthright? (L. C.) A sister too, with unavailing tears, lamenting her lost fortune? No comfort left you, but ineffectual pity from the few, out-weighed by insults from the many.

Mrs. Bev. Am I so lost a creature? Well, sir, my redress?

Stuke. To be resolved is to secure it. The marriage vow, once violated, is, in the sight of Heaven, dissolved-Start not, but hear me. 'Tis now the summer of your youth: time has not cropped the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them: then use

your beauty wisely, and, freed by injuries, fly from the cruellest of men, for shelter with the kindest.

Mrs. Bev. And who is he?

Stuke. A friend to the unfortunate; a bold one too, who, while the storm is bursting on your brow, and lightning flashing from your eyes, dares tell you that he loves you. [Kneels, c. Mrs. Bev. (L. c.) 'Would that these eyes had Heaven's own lightning, that, with a look, thus I might blast thee! Am I then fallen so low? Has poverty so humbled me, that I should listen to a hellish offer, and sell my soul for bread? Oh, villain! villain! [He rises.] But now I know thee, and thank thee for the knowledge.

Stuke. If you are wise, you shall have cause to thank

me.

Mrs. Bev. (R.) An injured husband too shall thank thee.

Stuke. (R. C.) Yet know, proud woman, I have a heart as stubborn as your own! as haughty and imperious; and, as it loves, so can it hate.

Mrs. Bev. Mean, despicable villain! I scorn thee and thy threats. Was it for this that Beverley was false? that his too-credulous wife should, in despair and vengeance, give up her honour to a wretch? But he shall know it, and vengeance shall be his.

Stuke. Why, send him for defiance then-Tell him. I love his wife; but that a worthless husband forbids our union. I'll make a widow of you, and court you honourably.

Mrs. Bev. Oh, coward, coward! thy soul will shrink at him yet, in the thought of what may happen, I feel a woman's fears. [Rings.] Keep thy own secret, and begone. [Goes to him c.] Your absence, sir, would please me.

Stuke. I'll not offend you, madam.

[Exit, L.

Mrs. Bev. Why opens not the earth, to swallow such a monster? Be conscience, then, his punisher, till Heaven, in mercy, gives him penitence, or dooms him in its justice. [Exit, R.

END OF ACT III.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-Stukely's Lodgings.

Enter STUKELY, L. and BATES, R. meeting.

Bates. Where have you been?

Stuke. (L. c.) Fooling my time away-playing my tricks, like a tame monkey, to entertain a woman. No matter where-I have been vexed and disappointed.Tell me of Beverley; how bore he his last shock?

Bates. (R. C.) Like one (so Dawson says) whose senses had been numbed with misery. When all was lost, he fixed his eyes upon the ground, and stood some time, with folded arms, stupid and motionless; then snatching his sword, that hung against the wainscot, he sat him down, and, with a look of fixed attention, drew figures on the floor. At last, he started up, looked wild, and trembled; and, like a woman, seized with her sex's fits, laughed out aloud, while the tears trickled down his face-so left the room.

Stuke. Why, this was madness.

Bates. The madness of despair.

Stuke. We must confine him then-A prison would do well. [A Knocking, L.] Hark, that knocking may be his-Go that way down. [Exit BATES, R.] Who's there?

Enter LEWSON, L.

Lew. (L.) An enemy-an open and avowed one.

Stuke. (R. C.) Why am I thus broke in upon? This house is mine, sir, and should protect me from insult and ill manners.

Lew. (c.) Guilt has no place of sanctuary: wherever found, 'tis virtue's lawful game. The fox's hold, and tyger's den, are no security against the hunter.

Stuke. Your business, sir?

Lew. To tell you that I know you. Why this confusion? That look of guilt and terror? Is Beverley awake, or has his wife told tales? The man, that dares like you, should have a soul to justify his deeds, and