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.
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.
Follies, if uncontroul’d, of every kind,
Grow into passions, and subdue the mind;
With sense and reason hold superior strife,
And conquer honour, nature, fame and life.