Bev. What is it?

Stu. Perhaps, ’twere best forgotten.  But I am open in my nature, and zealous for the honour of my friend—­Lewson speaks freely of you.

Bev. Of You I know he does.

Stu. I can forgive him for’t; but for my friend I’m angry.

Bev. What says he of me?

Stu. That Charlotte’s fortune is embezzled.  He talks on’t loudly.

Bev. He shall be silenced then—­How heard you of it?

Stu. From many.  He questioned Bates about it.  You must account with him, he says.

Bev. Or He with Me—­and soon too.

Stu. Speak mildly to him.  Cautions are best.

Bev. I’ll think on’t—­But whither go you?

Stu. From poverty and prisons—­No matter whither.  If fortune changes you may hear from me.

Bev. May these be prosperous then. (Offering the notes, which he refuses) Nay, they are yours; I have sworn it, and will have nothing.  Take them and use them.

Stu. Singly I will not.  My cares are for my friend; for his lost fortune, and ruined family.  All separate interests I disclaim.  Together we have fallen; together we must rise.  My heart, my honour, both will have it so.

Bev. I am weary of being fooled.

Stu. And so am I. Here let us part then.  These bodings of good-fortune shall be stifled; I’ll call them folly, and forget them.  This one embrace, and then farewel.
    [Offering to embrace.

Bev. No; stay a moment—­How my poor heart’s distracted!  I have these bodings too; but whether caught from You, or prompted by my good or evil genius, I know not—­The trial shall determine—­And yet, my wife—­

Stu. Ay, ay, she’ll chide.

Bev. No; My chidings are all here.
    [Pointing to his heart.

Stu. I’ll not persuade you.

Bev. I am persuaded; by reason too; the strongest reason—­necessity.  Oh! could I once regain the height I have fallen from, heaven should forsake me in my latest hour, if I again mixed in these scenes, or sacrificed the husband’s peace, his joy and best affections to avarice and infamy!

Stu. I have resolved like You; and since our motives are so honest, why should we fear success?

Bev. Come on then.  Where shall we meet?

Stu, At Wilson’s—­Yet if it hurts you, leave me:  I have misled you often.

Bev. We have misled each other—­But come!  Fortune is fickle, and may be tired with plaguing us.  There let us rest our hopes.

Stu. Yet think a little.

Bev. I cannot—­Thinking but distracts me.

When desperation leads, all thoughts are vain; Reason would lose, what rashness may obtain.

    [Exeunt.