_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