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. Damned, damned 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.