Scene IV
Enter Lucy with Stukely.
Lucy. Mr. Stukely, Madam.
[Exit.
Stu. Good morning to you, Ladies. Mr. Jarvis, your servant. Where’s my friend, madam?
[To Mrs. Beverley.
Mrs. Bev. I should have asked that question of You. Have not you seen him to-day?
Stu. No, madam.
Char. Nor last night?
Stu. Last night! Did not he come home then?
Mrs. Bev. No. Were not you together?
Stu. At the beginning of the evening; but not since. Where can he have staid?
Char. You call yourself his friend, Sir; why do you encourage him in this madness of gaming?
Stu. You have asked me that question before, madam; and I told you my concern was that I could not save him. Mr. Beverley is a man, madam; and if the most friendly entreaties have no effect upon him, I have no other means. My purse has been his, even to the injury of my fortune. If That has been encouragement, I deserve censure; but I meant it to retrieve him.
Mrs. Bev. I don’t doubt it, Sir; and I thank you. But where did you leave him last night?
Stu. At Wilson’s, madam, if I ought to tell; in company I did not like. Possibly he may be there still. Mr. Jarvis knows the house, I believe.
Jar. Shall I go, madam?
Mrs. Bev. No; he may take it ill.
Char. He may go as from himself.
Stu. And if he pleases, madam, without naming Me. I am faulty myself, and should conceal the errors of a friend. But I can refuse nothing here.
[Bowing to the ladies.
Jar. I would fain see him, methinks.
Mrs. Bev. Do so then. But take care how you upbraid him. I have never upbraided him.
Jar. Would I could bring him comfort!
[Exit.
Stu. Don’t be too much alarmed, madam. All men have their errors, and their times of seeing them. Perhaps my friend’s time is not come yet. But he has an uncle; and old men don’t live for ever. You should look forward, madam: we are taught how to value a second fortune by the loss of a first.
[A knocking at the door.
Mrs. Bev. Hark!—No; that knocking was too rude for Mr. Beverley. Pray heaven he be well!
Stu. Never doubt it, madam. You shall be well too: every thing shall be well.
[Knocking again.
Mrs. Bev. The knocking is a little loud though. Who waits there? Will none of you answer?—None of you, did I say? Alas! I thought myself in my own house, surrounded with servants.
Char. I’ll go, sister—But don’t be alarmed so.
[Exit.
Stu. What extraordinary accident have you to fear, madam?
Mrs. Bev. I beg your pardon; but ’tis ever thus with me in Mr. Beverley’s absence. No one knocks at the door, but I fancy ’tis a messenger of ill news.
Stu. You are too fearful, madam; ’twas but one night of absence; and if ill thoughts intrude (as love is always doubtful) think of your worth and beauty, and drive them from your breast.
Mrs. Bev. What thoughts? I have no thoughts that wrong my husband.
Stu. Such thoughts indeed would wrong him. The world is full of slander; and every wretch that knows himself unjust, charges his neighbour with like passions; and by the general frailty, hides his own. If you are wise, and would be happy, turn a deaf ear to such reports: ’tis ruin to believe them.
Mrs. Bev. Ay, worse than ruin. ’Twould be to sin against conviction. Why was it mentioned?
Stu. To guard you against rumour. The sport of half mankind is mischief; and for a single error they make men devils. If their tales reach you, disbelieve them.
Mrs. Bev. What tales? By whom? Why told? I have heard nothing; or if I had, with all his errors, my Beverley’s firm faith admits no doubt. It is my safety; my seat of rest and joy, while the storm threatens round me. I’ll not forsake it. (Stukely sighs, and looks down) Why turn you from me? And why that sigh?
Stu. I was attentive, madam; and sighs will come we know not why. Perhaps I have been too busy. If it should seem so, impute my zeal to friendship, that meant to guard you against evil tongues. Your Beverley is wronged; slandered most vilely. My life upon his truth.
Mrs. Bev. And mine too. Who is’t that doubts it? But no matter—I am prepared, Sir.—Yet why this caution?—You are my husband’s friend; I think you mine too; the common friend of both. (Pauses) I had been unconcerned else.
Stu. For heaven’s sake, madam, be so still! I meant to guard you against suspicion, not to alarm it.
Mrs. Bev. Nor have you, Sir. Who told you of suspicion? I have a heart it cannot reach.
Stu. Then I am happy—I would say more, but am prevented.