_Char._ Or if 'tis gone, why, farewel all. I claimed it for a sister. She holds my heart in hers; and every pang She feels, tears it in pieces--But I'll upbraid no more. What heaven permits, it may ordain; and sorrow then is sinful. Yet that the husband! father! brother! should be its instrument of vengeance!--'Tis grievous to know that. _Bev._ If you're my sister, spare the remembrance--It wounds too deeply. To-morrow shall clear all; and when the worst is known, it may be better than your fears. Comfort my wife; and for the pains of absence, I'll make atonement. The world may yet go well with us. _Char._ See where she comes!--Look chearfully upon her. Affections, such as hers, are prying; and lend those eyes that read the soul. SCENE VII. _Enter Mrs. BEVERLEY, and LEWSON._ _Mrs. Bev._ My life! _Bev._ My love! How fares it? I have been a truant husband. _Mrs. Bev._ But we meet now, and that heals all. Doubts and alarms I have had; but in this dear embrace I bury and forget them. My friend here (_pointing to Lewson_) has been indeed a friend. Charlotte, 'tis You must thank him: your brother's thanks and mine are of too little value. _Bev._ Yet what we have, we'll pay. I thank, you, Sir, and am obliged. I would say more, but that your goodness to the wife, upbraids the husband's follies. Had I been wise, She had not trespassed on your bounty. _Lew._ Nor has she trespassed. The little I have done, acceptance over-pays. _Char._ So friendship thinks-- _Mrs. Bev._ And doubles obligations, by striving to conceal them--We'll talk another time on't. You are too thoughtful, love. _Bev._ No; I have reason for these thoughts. _Char._ And hatred for the cause. Would you had that too! _Bev._ I have. The cause was avarice. _Char._ And who the tempter? _Bev._ A ruined friend. Ruined by too much kindness, _Lew._ Ay, worse than ruined; stabbed in his fame; mortally stabbed. Riches can't cure him. _Bev._ Or if they could, those I have drained him of. Something of this he hinted in the morning--that Lewson had suspicions of him--Why these suspicions? [_Angrily._ _Lew._ At school we knew this Stukely. A cunning plodding boy he was, sordid and cruel. Slow at his talk, but quick at shifts and tricking. He schemed out mischief, that others might be punished; and would tell his tale with so much art, that for the lash he merited, rewards and praise were given him. Shew me a boy with such a mind, and time that ripens manhood in him, shall ripen vice too. I'll prove him, and lay him open t'you. Till then be warned. I know him, and therefore shun him. _Bev._ As I would those that wrong him. You are too busy, Sir. _Mrs. Bev._ No, not too busy--Mistaken perhaps--That had been milder. _Lew._ No matter, madam. I can bear this, and praise the heart that prompts it. Pity such friendship should be so placed! _Bev._ Again, Sir!--But I'll bear too. You wrong him, Lewson, and will be sorry for't.