those dearer to me, the ruin of a sister and her infant,
can bear that too.

_Bev._ No more of this--You wring my heart.

_Char._ Would that the misery were all your own! But innocence must
suffer. Unthinking rioter! whose home was heaven to him: an angel
dwelt there, and a little cherub, that crowned his days with
blessings--How has he lost this heaven, to league with devils!

_Bev._ Forbear, I say; reproaches come too late; they search, but
cure not. And for the fortune you demand, we'll talk to-morrow on't;
our tempers may be milder.

_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 fa