_Mr. R._ She went away--her children felt in my pockets, and asked what I had brought them. I had nothing.--A servant brought me a glass of water, and took the children. _Mr. D._ Come to my arms, most injured sufferer! my Augusta will not desert you.----Oh, I am happy--I am rich; highly blessed----Come--we will bear our misfortunes together--will share our sufferings and our comforts, even to the last morsel of bread. _Mr. R._ All deserted me. You only, whom I have ruined, remain my friend. Oh, hear and tremble--you prevented----suicide---- _Mr. D._ How! _Mr. R._ Yes. My unfeeling child brought me to despair--God bless you! _Mr. D._ Unhappy father! _Mr. R._ When your last hour approaches, may this action insure your repose!--Many a distressed heart have you comforted--many tears have you wiped away.--Your kindness to me--oh, on that day when Virtue shall triumph, merciful God! let it be rewarded! [Exit. END OF THE THIRD ACT. _ACT IV._ SCENE I. A small Room at Mr. Drave's. Mrs. DRAVE and AUGUSTA. _Mrs. D._ I know not how to act. My husband suffers, and I am too much affected myself, to be able to afford him consolation--Oh, this Brook! who would have thought him so mean? _Augusta._ Do not mention him, dear mother. _Mrs. D._ To accuse your father of having made a false inventory! 'Tis an unheard-of baseness--and your father behaves with such fortitude and composure--gives up all he is worth, and----Hush! who is coming? Enter DRAVE, a Magistrate and his attendants. _Mag._ What room is this? _Mr. D._ My fitting room. _Mag._ So! N deg. 14. [writes it down: an attendant marks it on the door].--No closets in the wainscot here? _Mr. D._ No. _Mag._ Nothing concealed? _Mr. D._ No. _Mag._ Unlock this desk. [Drave unlocks it, Mag. tumbles over the papers]. _Mr. D._ Softly, Sir; you disorder---- _Mag._ You can put them to rights again [takes up a book].--What is this? _Mr. D._ My account-book. _Mag._ Is it? _Mr. D._ 'Tis in your hands, you may examine it. _Mag._ [giving the book to the attendants]. Put that with the rest--[sits down]. _Mr. D._ Have you done here? _Mag._ Patience [fans his face with the papers he has in his hand]. Very hot to-day. [Pointing to a small trunk]? What is that? _Augusta._ Trifles: some ladies dresses. _Mag._ Open it. _Mrs. D._ 'Tis only some linen. _Mag._ Turn it upside down, that I may see if there is nothing else. _Mr. D._ [hastily]. Sir! [Mrs. D. steps between him and the Mag]. _Mag._ [rising]. What's the matter? _Mr. D._ [more calm]. Must that be? _Mag._ [turning over the things without looking at Drave]. Perhaps--[Looking round to an attendant] Take that desk into the drawing-room to the rest. _Mr. D._ Stay, Sir; I want it here, to shut up my papers.