_Re-enter CHARLOTTE, with LEWSON._
_Stu._ Lewson! O--villains! villains!
[_To Bates and Dawson._
_Mrs. Bev._ Risen from the dead! Why, this is unexpected happiness!
_Char._ Or is't his ghost? (_To Stukely_) That sight would please
you, Sir.
_Jar._ What riddle's this?
_Bev._ Be quick and tell it--My minutes are but few.
_Mrs. Bev._ Alas! why so? You shall live long and happily.
_Lew._ While shame and punishment shall rack that viper. (_Pointing
to Stukely_) The tale is short. I was too busy in his secrets, and
therefore doomed to die. Bates, to prevent the murder, undertook it.
I kept aloof to give it credit--
_Char._ And gave Me pangs unutterable.
_Lew._ I felt them all, and would have told you; but vengeance
wanted ripening. The villain's scheme was but half executed. The
arrest by Dawson followed the supposed murder: and now, depending on
his once wicked associates, he comes to fix the guilt on Beverley.
_Mrs. Bev._ O! execrable wretch!
_Bates._ Dawson and I are witnesses of this.
_Lew._ And of a thousand frauds. His friend undone by sharpers and
false dice; and Stukely sole contriver, and possessor of all.
_Daw._ Had he but stopt on this side murder, we had been villains
still.
_Mrs. Bev._ Thus heaven turns evil into good; and by permitting sin,
warns men to virtue.
_Lew._ Yet punishes the instrument. So shall our laws; though not
with death. But death were mercy. Shame, beggary, and imprisonment,
unpitied misery, the stings of conscience, and the curses of mankind
shall make life hateful to him--till at last, his own hand end him.
How does my friend?
[_To Beverley_.
_Bev._ Why, well. Who's he that asks me?
_Mrs. Bev._ Tis Lewson, love. Why do you look so at him?
_Bev._ They told me he was murdered.
[_Wildly._
_Mrs. Bev._ Ay; but he lives to save us.
_Bev._ Lend me your hand--The room turns round.
_Mrs. Bev._ O heaven!
_Lew._ This villain here, disturbs him. Remove him from his sight:
and for your lives, see that you guard him. (_Stukely is taken off
by Dawson and Bates_) How is it, Sir?
_Bev._ 'Tis here--and here--(_Pointing to his head and heart._) And
now it tears me!
_Mrs. Bev._ You feel convulsed too--What is't disturbs you?
_Lew._ This sudden turn of joy perhaps. He wants rest too. Last
night was dreadful to him. His brain is giddy.
_Char._ Ay, never to be cured. Why, brother!--O! I fear!
I fear!
_Mrs. Bev._ Preserve him, heaven!--My love! my life! look at
me!--How his eyes flame!
_Bev._ A furnace rages in this heart--I have been too hasty.
_Mrs. Bev._ Indeed!--O me! O me!--Help, Jarvis! Fly, fly for help!
Your master dies else--Weep not, but fly! (_Exit Jarvis_) What is
this hasty deed?--Yet do not answer me--My fears have guessed
it.
_Bev._ Call back the messenger. 'Tis not in medicine's power to help
me.
_Mrs. Bev._ Is it then so?
_Bev._ Down, restless flames!--(_Laying his hand on his heart_) down
to your native hell!-- there you shall rack me--O! for a pause from
pain!
_Mrs. Bev._ Help, Charlotte! Support him, Sir! (_To Lewson_)
_Bev._ What river's this? I'll plunge, and cool me! (_Flings himself
upon the ground._) O! 'tis a sea of fire!--Lift me! lift me!
[_They raise him to his chair._
_Mrs. Bev._ This is a killing fight!
_Bev._ (_Starting_) That pang was well. It has numbed my senses.
Where's my wife? Can you forgive me, love?
_Mrs. Bev._ Alas! for what?
_Bev._ (_Starting again_) And there's another pang--Now all is
quiet. Will you forgive me?
_Mrs. Bev._ I will. Tell me for what?
_Bev._ For meanly dying.
_Mrs. Bev._ No--do not say it.
_Bev._ As truly as my soul must answer it. Had Jarvis staid this
morning, all had been well. But pressed by shame; pent in a prison;
tormented with my pangs for You; driven to despair and madness;
I took the advantage of his absence, corrupted the poor wretch he
left to guard me, and--swallowed poison.
_Mrs. Bev._ O! fatal deed!
_Char._ Dreadful and cruel!
_Bev._ Ay, most accursed--And now I go to my account. This rest from
pain brings death; yet 'tis heaven's kindness to me. I wished for
ease, a moment's ease, that cool repentance and contrition might
soften vengeance. Bend me, and let me kneel. (_They lift him from
his chair, and support him on his knees_) I'll pray for You too.
Thou Power that mad'st me, hear me! If for a life of frailty, and
this too hasty deed of death, thy justice dooms me, here I acquit
the sentence. But if, enthroned in mercy where thou sitt'st, thy
pity has beheld me, send me a gleam of hope; that in these last and
bitter moments, my soul may taste of comfort! And for these mourners
here, O! let their lives be peaceful, and their deaths happy! Now
raise me.
[_They lift him to the chair._
_Mrs. Bev._ Restore him, heaven! Stretch forth thy arm omnipotent,
and snatch him from the grave! O save him! save him!
_Bev._ Alas! that prayer is fruitless: already death has seized me.
Yet heaven is gracious. I asked for hope, as the bright presage of
forgiveness, and like a light, blazing through darkness, it came and
cheared me. 'Twas all I lived for, and now I die.
_Mrs. Bev._ Not yet!--Not yet!--Stay but a little, and I'll die too.
_Bev._ No; live, I charge you. We have a little one: though I have
left him, You will not leave him. To Lewson's kindness I bequeath
him--Is not this Charlotte? We have lived in love, though I have
wronged you--Can you forgive me, Charlotte?
_Char._ Forgive you!--O, my poor brother!
_Bev._ Lend me your hand, love. So--raise me--No--'twill not be--my
life is finished--O! for a few short moments to tell you how my
heart bleeds for you!--That even now, thus dying as I am, dubious
and fearful of hereafter, my bosom pang is for Your miseries!--Support
her heaven!--And now I go--O, mercy! mercy!
[_Dies._
_Lew._ Then all is over--How is it, madam? (_To Mrs. Beverley._) My
poor Charlotte too!
SCENE the last.
_Enter JARVIS._
_Jar._ How does my master, madam? Here's help at hand--Am I too late
then?
[_Seeing Beverley._
_Char._ Tears! tears! why fall you not? O wretched sister!--Speak to
her, Lewson--her grief is speechless.
_Lew._ Remove her from this sight. Go to her, Jarvis; lead and
support her. Sorrow like hers forbids complaint. Words are for
lighter griefs. Some ministring angel bring her peace! (_Jarvis and
Charlotte lead her off._) And Thou, poor breathless corps, may thy
departed soul have found the rest it prayed for! Save but one error,
and this last fatal deed, thy life was lovely. Let frailer minds
take warning; and from example learn, that want of prudence is want
of virtue.
Follies, if uncontroul'd, of every kind,
Grow into passions, and subdue the mind;
With sense and reason hold superior strife,
And conquer honour, nature, fame and life.
EPILOGUE.
Written by a FRIEND,
And Spoken by Mrs. PRITCHARD.
On every GAMESTER in th' Arabian nation,
'Tis said, that Mahomet denounc'd damnation;
But in return for wicked cards and dice,
He gave them black-ey'd girls in paradise.
Should he thus preach, good countrymen, to You,
His converts would, I fear, be mighty few:
So much your hearts are set on sordid gain,
The brightest eyes around you shine in vain:
Should the most heav'nly beauty bid you take her,
You'd rather hold--_two aces and a maker._
By your example, our poor sex drawn in,
Is guilty of the same unnat'ral sin:
The study now of every girl of parts
Is how to win your money, not your hearts.
O! in what sweet, what ravishing delights,
Our beaux and belles together pass their nights!
By ardent perturbations kept awake,
Each views with longing eyes the other's--stake.
The _smiles_ and _graces_ are from Britain flown,
Our_ Cupid _is an errant sharper grown,
And _Fortune_ sits on _Cytherea_'s throne.
In all these things, though women may be blam'd,
Sure men, the wiser men, should be asham'd!
And 'tis a horrid scandal, I declare,
That four strange queens should rival all the fair;
Four jilts, with neither beauty, wit nor parts,
O shame! have got possession of their hearts;
And those bold sluts, for all their queenly pride,
Have play'd loose tricks, or else they're much bely'd.
Cards were at first for benefits design'd,
Sent to amuse, and not enslave the mind:
From good to bad how easy the transition!
For what was pleasure once, is now perdition.
Fair ladies, then these wicked GAMESTERS shun,
Whoever weds one, is, you see, undone.
FINIS.
[Illustration: Act 5. The Gamester. Sc. 4.
Mr. REDDISH as BEVERLEY.
Bev.--_Thou art most friendly to the miserable._
_Published Octo. 19, 1776, by T. Lowndes & Partners_]
* * * * *
* * * *
* * * * *
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[Errata Noted by Transcriber:
Editor's Introduction and _Gamester_ text:
The main character's name is spelled "Beverly" in the Introduction,
"Beverley" in the play as originally printed. This has been left
unchanged.
ACT III, SCENE I: opening
_STUKELY'S lodgings_.
_text reads_ STUKELEY'S...
ACT V, SCENE VIII: opening
_Enter STUKELY._
_text reads_ STUKLEY. ]