SCENE I.

A chamber in lord BELMOUR's house.

Lady BELMOUR at her toilet, her Waiting-woman attending.

Lady BELMOUR. How pale I look!

ATTENDANT. My lady rose too early.

Lady BELMOUR. Why, what's the time?

ATTENDANT. 'Tis past the noon, but it is scarce four hours
Since you lay down to rest. [A tap at the door]

Lady BELMOUR. Who can this be? [The ATTENDANT goes to
the door and returns.]

ATTENDANT. 'Tis Mrs. Andrews, madam, in her chariot.

Lady BELMOUR. What, at this hour?—and yet in truth no wonder,
That thus her rest's disturb'd. It would require
The wealth of India to support her losses.
And were she now possess'd of all its stores,
I and my friends cou'd rid her of the burthen.
Perhaps, she comes to pay me the five hundred
I won of her, when last we play'd together?
Or with the flattering hopes to make reprisals?
So I may double it before we part:
For she's unskill'd enough to lose a million.
Away!—I'll wait her in the damask chamber. [They go off
different ways.]

SCENE II.

Changes to another apartment.

Lady BELMOUR alone. Enter Mrs. ANDREWS.

Lady BELMOUR. My dearest Andrews! I rejoice to see you.

Mrs. ANDREWS. I always found you friendly and obliging.

Lady BELMOUR. But why this gloom on that angelic face?
Why not as sprightly as you us'd to be?
Surely you'll not conceal the cause from me,
Whose wishes for you are sincere as earnest!

Mrs. ANDREWS. How happy am I in this honour'd favour!
You know my loss at play for some time past
Hath been prodigious; it hath reach'd my husband.

Lady BELMOUR. Were I in your case, that should not disturb me.
Is not the jealous dotard twice your age?
Such incidents shou'd more confirm my empire.
Nay, my offence shou'd be his accusation,
Nor wou'd I rest until he shou'd acknowledge
The fault was his, not mine; so, rouse your spirits.

Mrs. ANDREWS. Impossible, I've injur'd him too deeply;
Have lost with his esteem, his love for ever.

Lady BELMOUR. Then farewel further intercourse between us. [Aside]
Despond not thus, all will be well again.
I think you owe me just five hundred pieces?
Yet let not that disturb you in the least:
It may be in your power to pay me soon.

Mrs. ANDREWS. I would not forfeit your regard and friendship,
For fifty times the sum.

Lady BELMOUR. Imagine not,
That I cou'd doubt your honour, were it thousands.
Your strict and constant perseverance in it,
Has won you the esteem and love of all;
And to convince you of my high opinion,
I'll hazard this five hundred with you now.
The day is early yet.

Mrs. ANDREWS. O press me not;
My mind's too-much distress'd with what has happen'd;
But I have brought the honourable debt. [She takes out
several notes from a pocket-book.]
These make the whole, I think.

Lady BELMOUR. Most honour'd friend!
But may I trespass on your gen'rous spirit?
Your stock I see, is not a little weighty.
Cou'd you supply me with five hundred more
For a few hours? I have no doubt to treble them,
At a small party, I expect this instant:
And I'll repay them gratefully this evening
At lady Meldmay's, where we are to meet.
I, and three more this morning hold a bank;
In which, if you wou'd choose to share a chance,
Fortune perhaps might favour you this way.

Mrs. ANDREWS. Not now; but here's the further sum you wish for;
And fail not to repay it as you promise.
'Tis but a part of what I owe to others.

Lady BELMOUR. I wou'd not disappoint you for the world.
My obligations are beyond expression.
Grant heav'n, your present troubles quickly vanish.

Mrs. ANDREWS. And may you meet the fortune which you hope for!
[She goes off.]

Lady BELMOUR. 'Tis wonderful, how she acquires all this.
Her husband's ruin'd, my dissipated lord,
Most lavishly, I hear, supplies her wants;
Whilst even for domestic calls his purse
Is niggardly unclos'd; and what he spares,
Must be in strictest mode accounted for:
Nor does he know a pleasure, absent from her.
To keep this sum then, were but fair reprisals. [Exit.]

SCENE III.

Mr. ANDREWS's house.

Mr. ANDREWS and THOMAS.

ANDREWS. What monsters trust will make us when we yield
Our reason to its rage, and let it rule!
My neighbour! my companion! Oh! the man,
Whom I to serve, would have risk'd every blessing
To seek to wound me in the tenderest point!
Then, under friendship's show masking his treachery,
Endeavour falsely to accuse another—
Most infernal villain!

THOMAS. 'Tis impossible.
Say, is there one of more exalted virtues?
Or one who so esteems and honours you?

ANDREWS. Oh! my wife's letter proves beyond all question,
This breach of friendship, gratitude and honour.

THOMAS. All forgery.

ANDREWS. She did not deny it.

THOMAS. Where is it?

ANDREWS. I have it not, she tore it.

THOMAS. Tore it! how got she it?

ANDREWS. It matters not.

THOMAS. There's something more in this, than yet you know of.

ANDREWS. If any thing by chance hath reach'd your ear,
Against the safety ev'n of an enemy,
Stain not your fair repute with the foul secret.
The faithful tongue will utter what the heart
In justice prompts, though death were the event.

THOMAS. Then, sir, the letter is a black contrivance.
And would you now forgive this tell-tale honesty,
I shou'd not hesitate to name the forger.

ANDREWS. These intermissions aggravate the misery.

THOMAS. Prepare then for the shock. It was your wife.
Boldly I speak the truth; for much she's wrong'd,
If since she has been link'd with those high miscreants,
Who, whilst they plunder, hold her in derision,
Her foul's not ripe for ev'ry desp'rate project. [ANDREWS walks
about much disturb'd.]
Patience, good sir! I rest not on suspicion.

ANDREWS. Audacious wretch, away!—quick, shun my rage!

THOMAS. I meant you well. [Aside as he goes off.] How piteous
is his case! [Exit.]

ANDREWS. How can I meet him, and we both survive it!
Dread interval! would I had ne'er been born. [Goes off.]

SCENE IV.

Mr. ANDREWS's house.

Mrs. ANDREWS and MARIA.

Mrs. ANDREWS. Well, I believe if all my debts were paid,
I ne'er should hazard more.

MARIA. And so return
To the dull, lonely life you once pursued?
Forbid it your good angel! 'twould destroy you.

Mrs. ANDREWS. O! but that life, Maria, was estrang'd
To those anxieties which haunt me now.
I cannot bear to be alone a moment.

MARIA. For that good reason, act like lady Belmour;
Like her be resolute, and scorn despair.

Enter a SERVANT.

SERVANT. Lord Belmour, madam, tenders his respects.

Mrs. ANDREWS. [Aside.] How I dread these visits! Besides, of late,
He hath been more particular than usual;
So that it hath become the general notice.
[To the Servant.] Withdraw awhile. [To MARIA.] I will not be
at home.

MARIA. What, not to him?
That gallant, gen'rous nobleman! your friend!

Mrs. ANDREWS. A creditor for more than I can pay.

MARIA. Bless us! where are your boasted gains of late,
And where the sum you just receiv'd from Jefferson?

Mrs. ANDREWS. Of late, I have miss'd notes for several sums.

Mar. I doubt she suspects me. [Aside.] Madam, 'tis like,
You've lent them to some friends?

Mrs. ANDREWS. Of this again.
Have you yet rais'd the money on my jewels?

MARIA. The broker thinks the pledge is not sufficient.

Mrs. ANDREWS. For three thousand! they cost that sum twice told.

MARIA. He'll not lend more than two.

Mrs. ANDREWS. I must submit.
[Aside.] Shameful return this to the gen'rous donor!
Part was his present on our bridal day,
And part the day, he bore the city's honours.
He thought he never could enough adorn me.

MARIA. But we forget—his lordship waits admission.

Mrs. ANDREWS. I cannot see him,—yet, shou'd I refuse it,
As my curs'd stars have destin'd me his debtor,
He may, perhaps, conceive, it want of