GAMESTER. (continued 2)

Char. You must not talk so. All that we could we did; and Jarvis did the rest. The faithful creature will give him comfort. Why does he delay coming?

Mrs. Bev. And there's another fear. His poor master may be claiming the last kind office from him—His heart perhaps is breaking.

Char. See where he comes!—His looks are chearful too.

SCENE III.

Enter Jarvis.

Mrs. Bev. Are tears then chearful? Alas, he weeps! Speak to him Charlotte: I have no tongue to ask him questions.

Char. How does your master, Jarvis?

Jar. I am old and foolish, madam; and tears will come before my words—But don't You weep. (To Mrs. Beverley.) I have a tale of joy for you.

Mrs. Bev. What tale? Say but he's well, and I have joy enough.

Jar. His mind too shall be well; all shalt be well—I have news for him that shall make his poor heart bound again!—Fie upon old age! how childish it makes me! I have a tale of joy for you, and my tears drown it.

Char. Shed them in showers then, and make haste to tell it.

Mrs. Bev. What is it, Jarvis?

Jar. Yet why should I rejoice when a good man dies? Your uncle, madam, died yesterday.

Mrs. Bev. My uncle!—O heavens!

Char. How heard you of his death?

Jar. His steward came express, madam: I met him in the street, enquiring for your lodgings. I should not rejoice, perhaps; but he was old, and my poor master a prisoner—Now he shall live again—O, 'tis a brave fortune! and 'twas death to me to see him a prisoner.

Char. Where left you the steward?

Jar. I would not bring him hither, to be a witness of your distresses—and besides, I wanted once before I die, to be the messenger of joy t'you. My good master will be a man again.

Rrr

Mrs. Bev. Haste, haste then; and let us fly to him!—We are delaying our own happiness.

Jar. I had forgot a coach, madam; and Lucy has ordered one.

Mrs. Bev. Where was the need of that? The news has given me wings.

Char. I have no joy, till my poor brother shares it with me. How did he pass the night, Jarvis?

Jar. Why now, madam, I can tell you. Like a man dreaming of death and horrors. When they led him to his cell—for 'twas a poor apartment for my master—he flung himself upon a wretched bed, and lay speechless till day-break. A sigh now and then, and a few tears that followed those sighs, were all that told me he was alive. I spoke to him, but he would not hear me; and when I persisted, he raised his hand at me, and knit his brow so—I thought he would have struck me.

Mrs. Bev. O miserable! But what said he, Jarvis? Or was he silent all night?

Jar. At day-break he started from the bed, and looking wildly at me, asked who I was. I told him, and bid him be of comfort—Begone, old wretch, says he—I have sworn never to know comfort—My wife! my child! my sister! I have undone them all, and will know no comfort—Then letting go his hold, and falling upon his knees, he imprecated curses on himself.

Mrs. Bev. This is too horrible!—But you did not leave him so?

Char. No, I am sure he did not.

Jar. I had not the heart, madam. By degrees I brought him to himself. A shower of tears came to his relief; and then he called me his kindest friend, and begged forgiveness of me like a child—I was a child too, when he begged forgiveness of me; my heart throbbed so, I could not speak to him. He turned from me for a minute or two, and suppressing a few bitter sighs, enquired after his wretched family—Wretched was his word, madam—Asked how you bore the misery of last night—If you had goodness enough to see him in prison—And then begged me to hasten to you. I told him he must be more himself first—He promised me he would; and, bating a few sullen intervals, he became composed and easy. And then I left him; but not without an attendant; a servant in the prison, whom I hired to wait upon him. 'Tis an hour since we parted: I was prevented in my haste, to be the messenger of joy t'you.

Mrs. Bev. What a tale is this?—But we have staid too long—A coach is needless.

Char. Hark! I hear one at the door.

Jar. And Lucy comes to tell us—We'll away this moment.

Mrs. Bev. To comfort him, or die with him.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. changes to Stukely's lodgings.

Enter Stukely, Bates, and Dawson.

Stu. Here's presumptive evidence at least: or if we want more, why, we must swear more. But all unwillingly: we gain credit by reluctance. I have told you how to proceed. Beverley must die. We hunt him in view now, and must not slacken in the chace. 'Tis either death for Him, or shame and punishment for Us. Think of that, and remember your instructions. You, Bates, must to the prison immediately: I would be there but a few minutes Qqq2 before you. And you, Dawson, must follow in a few minutes after. So here we divide—But answer me; are you resolved upon this business like men?

Bates. Like villains rather—But you may depend upon us.

Stu. Like what we are then—You make no answer, Dawson—Compassion, I suppose, has seized you.

Daw. No; I have disclaimed it. My answer is Bates's—You may depend upon me.

Stu. Consider the reward! Riches and security! I have sworn to divide with you to the last shilling. So here we separate, till we meet in prison. Remember your instructions, and be men.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. changes to a prison.

Beverley is discovered sitting. After a short pause, he starts up, and comes forward.

Bev. Why, there's an end then. I have judged deliberately, and the result is death. How the self-murderer's account may stand, I know not. But this I know; the load of hateful life oppresses me too much. The horrors of my soul are more than I can bear—(Offers to kneel) Father of mercy!—I cannot pray—Despair has laid his iron hand upon me, and sealed me for perdition—Conscience! conscience! thy clamours are too loud—Here's that shall silence them. (Takes a vial out of his pocket, and looks at it.) Thou art most friendly to the miserable. Come then, thou cordial for sick minds! come to my heart! (Drinks) O, that the grave would bury memory as well as body! For if the soul sees and feels the sufferings of those dear ones it leaves behind, the Everlasting has no vengeance to torment it deeper—I'll think no more on't—Reflection comes too late. Once there was a time for't—but now 'tis past—Who's there?

SCENE VI.

Enter Jarvis.

Jar. One that hoped to see you with better looks. Why do you turn so from me? I have brought comfort with me—And see who comes to give it welcome!

Bev. My wife and sister! Why, 'tis but one pang more then, and farewel world.

[Aside.

SCENE VII.

Enter Mrs. Beverley, and Charlotte.

Mrs. Bev. Where is he? (Runs and embraces him) O, I have him! I have him! And now they shall never part us more! I have news, love, to make you happy for ever—but don't look coldly on me.

Char. How is it, brother?

Mrs. Bev. Alas! he hears us not. Speak to me, love. I have no heart to see you thus.

Bev. Nor I to bear the sense of so much shame. This is a sad place.

Mrs. Bev. We come to take you from it; to tell you that the world goes well again; that providence has seen our sorrows, and sent the means to heal them—Your uncle died yesterday.

Bev. My uncle!—No, do not say so—O! I am sick at heart!

Mrs. Bev. Indeed!—I meant to bring you comfort.

Bev. Tell me he lives then—If you would give me comfort, tell me he lives.

Mrs. Bev. And if I did, I have no power to raise the dead. He died yesterday.

Bev. And I am heir to him?

Jar. To his whole estate, Sir—But bear it patiently.

Bev. Well, well—(Pausing) Why, fame says I am rich then?

Mrs. Bev. And truly so—Why do you look so wildly?

Bev. Do I? The news was unexpected. But has he left me all?

Jar. All, all, Sir—He could not leave it from you.

Bev. I'm sorry for it.

Char. Sorry! Why sorry?

Bev. Your uncle's dead, Charlotte.

Char. Peace be with his soul then. Is it so terrible that an old man should die?

Bev. He should have been immortal.

Mrs. Bev. Heaven knows I wished not for his death. 'Twas the will of providence that he should die. Why are you disturbed so?

Bev. Has death no terrors in it?

Mrs. Bev. Not an old man's death. Yet if it troubles you, I wish him living.

Bev. And I, with all my heart.

Char. Why, what's the matter?

Bev. Nothing. How heard you of his death?

Mrs. Bev. His steward came express. Would I had never known it!

Bev. Or had heard it one day sooner—For I have a tale to tell, shall turn you into stone; or if the power of speech, remain, you shall kneel down and curse me.

Mrs. Bev. Alas! what tale is this? And why are we to curse you? I'll bless you for ever.

Bev. No; I have deserved no blessings. The world holds not such another wretch. All this large fortune, this second bounty of heaven, that might have healed our sorrows, and satisfied our utmost hopes, in a curst hour I sold last night.

Char. Sold! How sold?

Mrs. Bev. Impossible! It cannot be!

Bev. That devil Stukely, with all hell to aid him, tempted me to the deed. To pay false debts of honour, and to redeem past errors, I sold the reversion—sold it for a scanty sum, and lost it among villains.

Char. Why, farewel all then.

Bev. Liberty and life. Come, kneel and curse me.

Mrs. Bev. Then hear me heaven! (Kneels) Look down with mercy on his sorrows! Give softness to his looks, and quiet to his heart! Take from his memory the sense of what is past, and cure him of despair! On Me, on Me, if misery must be the lot of either, multiply misfortunes! I'll bear them patiently, so He is happy! These hands shall toil for his support! These eyes be lifted up for hourly blessings on him! And every duty of a fond and faithful wife, be doubly done to chear and comfort him!—So hear me! so reward me!

[Rises.

Bev. I would kneel too, but that offended heaven would turn my prayers to curses. What have I to ask for? I, who have shook hands with hope? Is it for length of days that I should kneel? No; My time is limited. Or is it for this world's blessings upon You and Yours? To pour out my heart in wishes for a ruined wife, a child and sister? O! no! For I have done a deed to make you miserable.

Mrs. Bev. Why miserable? Is poverty so miserable?—The real wants of life are few: a little industry will supply them all; and chearfulness will follow. It is the privilege of honest industry; and we'll enjoy it fully.

Bev. Never, never! O, I have told you but in part. The irrevocable deed is done.

Mrs. Bev. What deed? And why do you look so at me?

Bev. A deed, that dooms my soul to vengeance; that seals Your misery here, and Mine hereafter.

Mrs. Bev. No, no; You have a heart too good for't— Alas! he raves, Charlotte—his looks too terrify me—Speak comfort to him—He can have done no deed of wickedness.

Char. And yet I fear the worst. What is it, brother?

Bev. A deed of horror.

Jar. Ask him no questions, madam. This last misfortune has hurt his brain. A little time will give him patience.

SCENE VIII.

Enter Stukely.

Bev. Why is this villain here?

Stu. To give You liberty and safety. There's his discharge, madam. (Giving a paper to Mrs. Beverley) Let him begone this moment. The arrest last night was meant in friendship; but came too late.

Char. What mean you, Sir?

Stu. The arrest was too late, I say. I would have kept his hands from blood, but was too late.

Mrs. Bev. His hands from blood! Whose blood?—O, wretch! wretch!

Stu. From Lewson's blood.

Char. No, villain! Yet what of Lewson? Speak quickly!

Stu. You are ignorant then! I thought I heard the murderer at confession.

Char. What murderer? And who is murdered? Not Lewson? Say he lives, and I'll kneel down and worship you.

Stu. In pity, so I would; but that the tongues of all cry murder. I came in pity, not in malice; to save the brother, not kill the sister. Your Lewson's dead.

Char. O horrible! Why, who has killed him?—And yet it cannot be. What crime had He committed that he should die? Villain! he lives! he lives! and shall revenge these pangs.

Mrs. Bev. Patience, sweet Charlotte!

Char. O, 'tis too much for patience!

Mrs. Bev. He comes in pity, he says. O! execrable villain! The friend is killed then, and this the murderer?

Bev. Silence, I charge you. Proceed, Sir.

Stu. No. Justice may stop the tale—and here's an evidence.

SCENE IX.

Enter Bates.

Bates. The news, I see, has reached you. But take comfort, madam. (To Charlotte) There's one without, enquiring for you. Go to him, and lose no time.

Char. O misery! misery!

[Exit.

Mrs. Bev. Follow her, Jarvis. If it be true that Lewson's dead, her grief may kill her.

Bates. Jarvis must stay here, madam: I have some questions for him.

Stu. Rather let him fly. His evidence may crush his master.

Sss

Bev. Why, ay; this looks like management.

Bates. He found you quarrelling with Lewson in the street last night.

[To Beverley.

Mrs. Bev. No; I am sure he did not.

Jar. Or if I did—

Mrs. Bev. 'Tis false, old man—They had no quarrel; there was no cause for quarrel.

Bev. Let him proceed, I say—O! I am sick! sick! Reach me a chair.

[He sits down.

Mrs. Bev. You droop, and tremble, love—Your eyes are fixt too—Yet You are innocent. If Lewson's dead, You killed him not.

SCENE X.

Enter Dawson.

Stu. Who sent for Dawson?

Bates. 'Twas I. We have a witness too, you little think of. Without there!

Stu. What witness?

Bates. A right one. Look at him.

SCENE XI.

Re-enter Charlotte, with Lewson.

Stu. Lewson! O—villains! villains!

[To Bates and Dawson.

Mrs. Bev. Risen from the dead! Why, this is unexpected happiness!

Char. Or is't his ghost? (To Stukely) That sight would please you, Sir.

Jar. What riddle's this?

Bev. Be quick and tell it—My minutes are but few.

Mrs. Bev. Alas! why so? You shall live long and happily.

Lew. While shame and punishment shall rack that viper. (Pointing to Stukely) The tale is short. I was too busy in his secrets, and therefore doomed to die. Bates, to prevent the murder, undertook it. I kept aloof to give it credit—

Char. And gave Me pangs unutterable.

Lew. I felt them all, and would have told you; but vengeance wanted ripening. The villain's scheme was but half executed. The arrest by Dawson followed the supposed murder: and now, depending on his once wicked associates, he comes to fix the guilt on Beverley.

Mrs. Bev. O! execrable wretch!

Bates. Dawson and I are witnesses of this.

Lew. And of a thousand frauds. His friend undone by sharpers and false dice; and Stukely sole contriver, and possessor of all.

Daw. Had he but stopt on this side murder, we had been villains still.

Mrs. Bev. Thus heaven turns evil into good; and by permitting sin, warns men to virtue.

Lew. Yet punishes the instrument. So shall our laws; though not with death. But death were mercy. Shame, beggary, and imprisonment, unpitied misery, the stings of conscience, and the curses of mankind shall make life hateful to him—till at last, his own hand end him. How does my friend?

[To Beverley.

Bev. Why, well. Who's he that asks me?

Mrs. Bev. Tis Lewson, love. Why do you look so at him?

Bev. They told me he was murdered.

[Wildly.

Mrs. Bev. Ay; but he lives to save us.

Bev. Lend me your hand—The room turns round.

Sss2

Mrs. Bev. O heaven!

Lew. This villain here, disturbs him. Remove him from his sight: and for your lives, see that you guard him. (Stukely is taken off by Dawson and Bates) How is it, Sir?

Bev. 'Tis here—and here—(Pointing to his head and heart.) And now it tears me!

Mrs. Bev. You feel convulsed too—What is't disturbs you?

Lew. This sudden turn of joy perhaps. He wants rest too. Last night was dreadful to him. His brain is giddy.

Char. Ay, never to be cured. Why, brother!—O! I fear! I fear!

Mrs. Bev. Preserve him, heaven!—My love! my life! look at me!—How his eyes flame!

Bev. A furnace rages in this heart—I have been too hasty.

Mrs. Bev. Indeed!—O me! O me!—Help, Jarvis! Fly, fly for help! Your master dies else—Weep not, but fly! (Exit Jarvis) What is this hasty deed?—Yet do not answer me—My fears have guessed it.

Bev. Call back the messenger. 'Tis not in medicine's power to help me.

Mrs. Bev. Is it then so?

Bev. Down, restless flames!—(Laying his hand on his heart) down to your native hell!— there you shall rack me—O! for a pause from pain!

Mrs. Bev. Help, Charlotte! Support him, Sir! (To Lewson)

Bev. What river's this? I'll plunge, and cool me! (Flings himself upon the ground.) O! 'tis a sea of fire!—Lift me! lift me!

[They raise him to his chair.

Mrs. Bev. This is a killing fight!

Bev. (Starting) That pang was well. It has numbed my senses. Where's my wife? Can you forgive me, love?

Mrs. Bev. Alas! for what?

Bev. (Starting again) And there's another pang—Now all is quiet. Will you forgive me?

Mrs. Bev. I will. Tell me for what?

Bev. For meanly dying.

Mrs. Bev. No—do not say it.

Bev. As truly as my soul must answer it. Had Jarvis staid this morning, all had been well. But pressed by shame; pent in a prison; tormented with my pangs for You; driven to despair and madness; I took the advantage of his absence, corrupted the poor wretch he left to guard me, and—swallowed poison.

Mrs. Bev. O! fatal deed!

Char. Dreadful and cruel!

Bev. Ay, most accursed—And now I go to my account. This rest from pain brings death; yet 'tis heaven's kindness to me. I wished for ease, a moment's ease, that cool repentance and contrition might soften vengeance. Bend me, and let me kneel. (They lift him from his chair, and support him on his knees) I'll pray for You too. Thou Power that mad'st me, hear me! If for a life of frailty, and this too hasty deed of death, thy justice dooms me, here I acquit the sentence. But if, enthroned in mercy where thou sitt'st, thy pity has beheld me, send me a gleam of hope; that in these last and bitter moments, my soul may taste of comfort! And for these mourners here, O! let their lives be peaceful, and their deaths happy! Now raise me.

[They lift him to the chair.

Mrs. Bev. Restore him, heaven! Stretch forth thy arm omnipotent, and snatch him from the grave! O save him! save him!

Bev. Alas! that prayer is fruitless: already death has seized me. Yet heaven is gracious. I asked for hope, as the bright presage of forgiveness, and like a light, blazing through darkness, it came and cheared me. 'Twas all I lived for, and now I die.

Mrs. Bev. Not yet!—Not yet!—Stay but a little, and I'll die too.

Bev. No; live, I charge you. We have a little one: though I have left him, You will not leave him. To Lewson's kindness I bequeath him—Is not this Charlotte? We have lived in love, though I have wronged you—Can you forgive me, Charlotte?

Char. Forgive you!—O, my poor brother!

Bev. Lend me your hand, love. So—raise me—No—'twill not be—my life is finished—O! for a few short moments to tell you how my heart bleeds for you!—That even now, thus dying as I am, dubious and fearful of hereafter, my bosom pang is for Your miseries!—Support her heaven!—And now I go—O, mercy! mercy!

[Dies.

Lew. Then all is over—How is it, madam? (To Mrs. Beverley.) My poor Charlotte too!

SCENE the last.

Enter Jarvis.

Jar. How does my master, madam? Here's help at hand—Am I too late then?

[Seeing Beverley.

Char. Tears! tears! why fall you not? O wretched sister!—Speak to her, Lewson—her grief is speechless.

Lew. Remove her from this sight. Go to her, Jarvis; lead and support her. Sorrow like hers forbids complaint. Words are for lighter griefs. Some ministring angel bring her peace! (Jarvis and Charlotte lead her off.) And Thou, poor breathless corps, may thy departed soul have found the rest it prayed for! Save but one error, and this last fatal deed, thy life was lovely. Let frailer minds take warning; and from example learn, that want of prudence is want of virtue.