Jar. I came in duty, Sir.  If it be troublesome—­

Bev. It is.  I would be private; hid even from myself.  Who sent you hither?

Jar. One that would persuade you home again.  My mistress is not well; her tears told me so.

Bev. Go with thy duty there then.  But does she weep?  I am to blame to let her weep.  Prithee begone; I have no business for thee.

Jar. Yes, Sir; to lead you from this place.  I am your servant still.  Your prosperous fortune blessed my old age.  If That has left you, I must not leave you.

Bev. Not leave me!  Recall past time then; or through this sea of storms and darkness, shew me a star to guide me.  But what can’st Thou?

Jar. The little that I can, I will.  You have been generous to me.  I would not offend you, Sir—­but—­

Bev. No.  Think’st thou I’d ruin Thee too?  I have enough of shame already.  My wife! my wife!  Would’st thou believe it, Jarvis?  I have not seen her all this long night; I, who have loved her so, that every hour of abscence seemed as a gap in life.  But other bonds have held me.  O!  I have played the boy; dropping my counters in the stream, and reaching to redeem them, have lost Myself.  Why wilt Thou follow misery?  Or if thou wilt, go to thy mistress—­She has no guilt to sting her, and therefore may be comforted.

Jar. For pity’s sake, Sir!  I have no heart to see this change.

Bev. Nor I to bear it.  How speaks the world of me, Jarvis?

Jar. As of a good man dead.  Of one, who walking in a dream, fell down a precipice.  The world is sorry for you.

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.