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?