_Bev._ What aims? I'll not conceal it; _'twas_ Stukely that accused
you.

_Lew._ To rid him of an enemy: perhaps of two. He fears discovery,
and frames a tale of falsehood, to ground revenge and murder
on.

_Bev._ I must have proof of this.

_Lew._ Wait till to-morrow then.

_Bev._ I will.

_Lew._ Good night. I go to serve you. Forget what's past, as I do;
and chear your family with smiles. To-morrow may confirm them, and
make all happy.
[_Exit._

_Bev._ (_Pausing_) How vile, and how absurd is man! His boasted
honour is but another name for pride; which easier bears the
consciousness of guilt, than the world's just reproofs. But 'tis the
fashion of the times; and in defence of falsehood and false honour,
men die martyrs. I knew not that my nature was so bad.
[_Stands musing._


SCENE VIII.

_Enter BATES, and JARVIS._