uestion 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