My home lies there; all that
is dear on earth it holds too; yet are the gates of death more
welcome to me. I'll enter it no more--Who passes there? Tis Lewson.
He meets me in a gloomy hour; and memory tells me, he has been
meddling with my fame.

SCENE VII.

_Enter LEWSON._

_Lew._ Beverley! Well met. I have been busy in your affairs.

_Bev._ So I have heard, Sir; and now must thank you for't.

_Lew._ To-morrow I may deserve your thanks. Late as it is, I go to
Bates. Discoveries are making that an arch villain trembles
at.

_Bev._ Discoveries are made, Sir, that You shall tremble at. Where
is this boasted spirit? this high demeanour, that was to call me to
account? You say I have wronged my sister--Now say as much. But
first be ready for defence, as I am for resentment.
[_Draws._

_Lew._ What mean you? I understand you not.

_Bev._ The coward's stale acquittance. Who, when he spreads foul
calumny abroad, and dreads just vengeance on him, cries out, what
mean you, I understand you not.

_Lew._ Coward, and calumny! Whence are these words? But I forgive,
and pity you.

_Bev._ Your pity had been kinder to my fame. But you have traduced
it; told a vile story to the public ear, that I have wronged my
sister.

_Lew._ 'Tis false. Shew me the man that dares accuse me.

_Bev._ I thought you brave, and of a soul superior to low malice;
but I have found you, and will have vengeance. This is no place for
argument.

_Lew._ Nor shall it be for violence. Imprudent man! who in
revenge for fancied injuries, would pierce the heart that loves
him! But honest friendship acts from itself, unmoved by slander, or
ingratitude. The life you thirst for, shall be employed to serve you.

_Bev._ 'Tis thus you would compound then! First do a wrong beyond
forgiveness; and to redress it, load me with kindness unsolicited.
I'll not receive it. Your zeal is troublesbme.

_Lew._ No matter. It shall be useful.

_Bev._ It will not be accepted.

_Lew._ It must. You know me not.

_Bev._ Yes; for the slanderer of my fame: who under shew of
friendship, arraigns me of injustice; buzzing in every ear foul
breach of trust, and family dishonour.

_Lew._ Have I done this? Who told you so?

_Bev._ The world. 'Tis talked of everywhere. It pleased you to add
threats too: you were to call me to account --Why, do it now then;
I shall be proud of such an arbiter.

_Lew._ Put up your sword, and know me better. I never injured you.
The