Chapter 19
_Enter BEVERLEY._
Look to the door there! (_In a seeming fright._)--My friend!--I thought of other visitors.
_Bev._ No: these shall guard you from them. (_Offering notes_) Take them, and use them cautiously. The world deals hardly by us.
_Stu._ And shall I leave you destitute? No: Your wants are greatest. Another climate may treat me kinder. The shelter of to-night takes me from this.
_Bev._ Let these be your support then. Yet is there need of parting? I may have means again; we'll share them, and live wisely.
_Stu._ No. I should tempt you on. Habit is nature in me; ruin can't cure it. Even now I would be gaming. Taught by experience as I am, and knowing this poor sum is all that's left us, I am for venturing still. And say I am to blame; yet will this little supply our wants? No; we must put it out to usury. Whether 'tis madness in me, or some resistless impulse of good fortune, I yet am ignorant; but--
_Bev._ Take it, and succeed then. I'll try no more.
_Stu._ 'Tis surely impulse; it pleads so strongly--But You are cold--we'll e'en part here then. And for this last reserve, keep it for better uses; I'll have none on't. I thank you though, and will seek fortune singly--One thing I had forgot--
_Bev._ What is it?
_Stu._ Perhaps, 'twere best forgotten. But I am open in my nature, and zealous for the honour of my friend--Lewson speaks freely of you.
_Bev._ Of You I know he does.
_Stu._ I can forgive him for't; but for my friend I'm angry.
_Bev._ What says he of me?
_Stu._ That Charlotte's fortune is embezzled. He talks on't loudly.
_Bev._ He shall be silenced then--How heard you of it?
_Stu._ From many. He questioned Bates about it. You must account with him, he says.
_Bev._ Or He with Me--and soon too.
_Stu._ Speak mildly to him. Cautions are best.
_Bev._ I'll think on't--But whither go you?
_Stu._ From poverty and prisons--No matter whither. If fortune changes you may hear from me.
_Bev._ May these be prosperous then. (_Offering the notes, which he refuses_) Nay, they are yours; I have sworn it, and will have nothing. Take them and use them.
_Stu._ Singly I will not. My cares are for my friend; for his lost fortune, and ruined family. All separate interests I disclaim. Together we have fallen; together we must rise. My heart, my honour, both will have it so.
_Bev._ I am weary of being fooled.
_Stu._ And so am I. Here let us part then. These bodings of good-fortune shall be stifled; I'll call them folly, and forget them. This one embrace, and then farewel. [_Offering to embrace._
_Bev._ No; stay a moment--How my poor heart's distracted! I have these bodings too; but whether caught from You, or prompted by my good or evil genius, I know not--The trial shall determine--And yet, my wife--
_Stu._ Ay, ay, she'll chide.
_Bev._ No; My chidings are all here. [_Pointing to his heart._
_Stu._ I'll not persuade you.
_Bev._ I _am_ persuaded; by reason too; the strongest reason--necessity. Oh! could I once regain the height I have fallen from, heaven should forsake me in my latest hour, if I again mixed in these scenes, or sacrificed the husband's peace, his joy and best affections to avarice and infamy!
_Stu._ I have resolved like You; and since our motives are so honest, why should we fear success?
_Bev._ Come on then. Where shall we meet?
_Stu_, At Wilson's--Yet if it hurts you, leave me: I have misled you often.
_Bev._ We have misled each other--But come! Fortune is fickle, and may be tired with plaguing us. There let us rest our hopes.
_Stu._ Yet think a little.
_Bev._ I cannot--Thinking but distracts me.
_When desperation leads, all thoughts are vain;_ _Reason would lose, what rashness may obtain._
[_Exeunt._