The Female Gamester: A Tragedy - LightNovelsOnl.com
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ANDREWS. Sad-fated youth! my own distracted state Is suited ill to intercourse with heaven.
But lose no time yourself: that righteous judge, Whom you have so repeatedly offended, Abounds in mercy, as he doth in justice; And pray'r is at his throne a pow'rful advocate.
JEFFERSON. And you, as sure as that Great Pow'r is just, Will meet the due reward of all your virtues.
When I go hence, I pray you read this paper-- My fate draws near---so now, farewel for ever! [He goes off.]
ANDREWS. What horrid images crowd on my soul!
Yet worse may follow--blood perchance and murder-- But will not injur'd honour,--ruin'd peace, For ever ruin'd, justify revenge!-- [Pauses.]
I am resolv'd--So for this writing now-- [He opens it and reads.]
"Most injured Sir, Inclos'd you have my will by which, as some small recompense for the many wrongs I have done you, I have bequeathed you all the little fortune I have left. Oh! lend your prayers, and pity a repentant wretched sinner.
William Jefferson."
Some recompense!--There can be none for me.
The moment is at hand, the fearful moment, When I'm to seek for that, which, when discover'd, My sure perdition seals--yet even certainty Were ease to that I feel--tremendous state!
Like some benighted traveller quite 'wilder'd, I see no friendly ray to guide my steps-- But 'midst my woes, I've let this hapless youth, Plung'd in despair, escape me unattended.
I'll haste to seek him out--Yet, cannot now: Troubles more intimate claim ev'ry thought.
Enter one of his CLERKS.
I near despair'd of seeing you: 'tis almost light.
What has delay'd you so?
CLERK. It was your wife.
ANDREWS. My wife!
CLERK. Yes, sir, she's but at home some moments.
ANDREWS. Was she attended?
CLERK. One went in before her.
ANDREWS. What, into my house?
CLERK. Yes, sir.
ANDREWS. Man, or woman?
CLERK. A man, sir.
ANDREWS. Hah!--And know you who he is?
CLERK. Lord Belmour, sir.
ANDREWS. Are you sure?
CLERK. As I exist-- For waiting, as 'twas your desire I should, 'Till I could warn you of your wife's return, And walking 'twixt the dwelling and the warehouse, I by a light, which glimmer'd from the moon, Then almost waned, descry'd a man and woman Close standing at the wicket of the gate, That leads into the lane. I stood conceal'd, Until lord Belmour and Maria pa.s.s'd me Towards the house.
ANDREWS. Can I now pa.s.s that way?
CLERK. You may; I lock'd the doors, and have the keys.
ANDREWS. Come, deep and sweet revenge! 'twere virtue here. [Aside]
It must be near the dawn. Go on, I'll follow.
Life's now a curse; death then my only wish.
SCENE III.
Mr. ANDREWS's house.
THOMAS and MARIA.
MARIA. Who releas'd you?
THOMAS. Our unhappy master.
MARIA. Is he in town, and up at this late hour?
THOMAS. He's in the house; and heaven grant, Maria, He holds his reason: for he rush'd impetuous, With looks as madness wild, into the room, Where I sat tied; when falling on his knees, He crav'd my pardon; then, from my bruis'd arms He cut the cords, and hastily ran off.
MARIA. Which way?
THOMAS. Towards the compting-house.
MARIA. O heav'n!
THOMAS. Why this alarm?
MARIA. His arms are there.
THOMAS. 'Tis true, And never man appear'd more desperate.
Wherefore, as ev'n a moment's loss were dangerous; I'll for his neighbours speed, Wilson and Goodwin. [He goes off.]
MARIA. The mischief is at hand, and 'twill require My deepest skill, or I'm undone for ever.
But to the last I will a.s.sert my innocence. [A bell rings.]
This is my mistress, and from her bedchamber. [Rings again.]
Again it rings; and with unusual violence.-- I must away--What fights may meet me now!-- [She goes off.]
SCENE IV.
Another apartment.
CONSTANTIA and LUCIA.
