me, and sealed me for perdition—­Conscience! conscience! thy clamours are too loud—­Here’s that shall silence them. (Takes a vial out of his pocket, and looks at it.) Thou art most friendly to the miserable.  Come then, thou cordial for sick minds! come to my heart! (Drinks) O, that the grave would bury memory as well as body!  For if the soul sees and feels the sufferings of those dear ones it leaves behind, the EVERLASTING has no vengeance to torment it deeper—­I’ll think no more on’t—­Reflection comes too late.  Once there was a time for’t—­but now ’tis past—­Who’s there?

SCENE VI.

Enter JARVIS.

Jar. One that hoped to see you with better looks.  Why do you turn so from me?  I have brought comfort with me—­And see who comes to give it welcome!

Bev. My wife and sister!  Why, ’tis but one pang more then, and farewel world.
    [Aside.

SCENE VII.

Enter Mrs. BEVERLEY, and CHARLOTTE.

Mrs. Bev. Where is he? (Runs and embraces him) O, I have him!  I have him!  And now they shall never part us more!  I have news, love, to make you happy for ever—­but don’t look coldly on me.

Char. How is it, brother?

Mrs. Bev. Alas! he hears us not.  Speak to me, love.  I have no heart to see you thus.

Bev. Nor I to bear the sense of so much shame.  This is a sad place.

Mrs. Bev. We come to take you from it; to tell you that the world goes well again; that providence has seen our sorrows, and sent the means to heal them—­Your uncle died yesterday.

Bev. My uncle!—­No, do not say so—­O!  I am sick at heart!

Mrs. Bev. Indeed!—­I meant to bring you comfort. Bev. Tell me he lives then—­If you would give me comfort, tell me he lives.

Mrs. Bev. And if I did, I have no power to raise the dead.  He died yesterday.

Bev. And I am heir to him?

Jar. To his whole estate, Sir—­But bear it patiently.

Bev. Well, well—­(Pausing) Why, fame says I am rich then?

Mrs. Bev. And truly so—­Why do you look so wildly?

Bev. Do I?  The news was unexpected.  But has he left me all?

Jar. All, all, Sir—­He could not leave it from you.

Bev. I’m sorry for it.

Char. Sorry!  Why sorry?

Bev. Your uncle’s dead, Charlotte.

Char. Peace be with his soul then.  Is it so terrible that an old man should die?

Bev. He should have been immortal.

Mrs. Bev. Heaven knows I wished not for his death.  ’Twas the will of providence that he should die.  Why are you disturbed so?

Bev. Has death no terrors in it?