_Bev._ Ay, and pities me. Says it not so? But I was born to infamy. I'll tell thee what it says. It calls me villain; a treacherous husband; a cruel father; a false brother; one lost to nature and her charities--Or to say all in one short word, it calls me--Gamester. Go to thy mistress; I'll see her presently. _Jar._ And why not now? Rude people press upon her; loud, bawling creditors; wretches, who know no pity. I met one at the door; he would have seen my mistress--I wanted means of present payment, so promised it to-morrow. But others may be pressing; and she has grief enough already. Your absence hangs too heavy on her. _Bev._ Tell her I'll come then. I have a moment's business. But what hast Thou to do with My distresses? Thy honesty has left thee poor; and age wants comfort. Keep what thou hast for cordials; left between thee and the grave, misery steal in. I have a friend shall counsel me--This is that friend. SCENE IV. _Enter STUKELY._ _Stu._ How fares it, Beverley? Honest Mr. Jarvis, well met; I hoped to find you here. That viper Williams! Was it not He that troubled you this morning? _Jar._ My mistress heard him then? I am sorry that she heard him. _Bev._ And Jarvis promised payment. _Stu._ That must not be. Tell him I'll satisfy him. _Jar._ Will you, Sir? Heaven will reward you for't. _Bev._ Generous Stukely! Friendship like yours, had it ability like will, would more than ballance the wrongs of fortune. _Stu._ You think too kindly of me. Make haste to Williams; his clamours may be rude else. [_To Jarvis._ _Jar._ And my master will go home again. Alas! Sir, we know of hearts there breaking for his absence. [_Exit._ _Bev._ Would I were dead! _Stu._ Or turned hermit; counting a string of beads in a dark cave; or under a weeping willow, praying for mercy on the wicked. Ha! ha! ha! Prithee be a man, and leave dying to disease and old age. Fortune may be ours again; at least, we'll try for't. _Bev._ No, it has fooled us on too far. _Stu._ Ay, ruined us; and therefore we'll sit down contented. These are the despondings of men without money; but let the shining ore chink in the pocket, and folly turns to wisdom. We are fortune's children. True, she's a fickle mother; but shall We droop because She's peevish? No; she has smiles in store. And these her frowns are meant to brighten them. _Bev._ Is this a time for levity? But You are single in the ruin, and therefore may talk lightly of it. With Me 'tis complicated misery. _Stu._ You censure me unjustly. I but assumed these spirits to chear my friend. Heaven knows he wants a comforter. _Bev._ What new misfortune? _Stu._ I would have brought you money; but lenders want securities. What's to be done? All that was mine is yours already. _Bev._ And there's the weight that sinks me. I have undone my friend too; one, who to save a drowning wretch, reached out his hand, and perished with him. _Stu._ Have better thoughts.