base suggestion comes from Stukely: I see him and his aims.

_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._

_Jar._ This way the noise was--and yonder's my poor master.

_Bates._ I heard him at high words with Lewson. The cause I know not.

_Jar._ I heard him too. Misfortunes vex him.

_Bates._ Go to him, and lead him home--But he comes this way--I'll
not be seen by him.
[_Exit._

_Bev._ (_Starting._) What fellow's that? (_Seeing Jarvis_). Art thou
a murderer, friend? Come, lead the way; I have a hand as mischievous
as thine; a heart as desperate too--Jarvis!--To bed, old man, the
cold will chill thee.

_Jar._ Why are you wandering at this late hour?--Your sword drawn
too!--For heav'n's sake sheath it, Sir; the sight distracts
Me.

_Bev._ Whose voice was that?
[_Wildly_.

_Jar._ 'Twas mine, Sir. Let me intreat you to give the sword to
me.

_Bev._ Ay, take it; quickly take it--Perhaps I am not so curst, but
heav'n may have sent thee at this moment to snatch me from
perdition.

_Jar._ Then I am blest.

_Bev._ Continue so, and leave me. My sorrows are contagious. No one
is blest that's near me.

_Jar._ I came to seek you, Sir.

_Bev._ And now thou hast found me, leave me. My thoughts are wild,
and will not be disturbed.

_Jar._ Such thoughts are best disturbed.

_Bev._ I tell thee that they will not. Who sent thee hither?

_Jar._ My weeping mistress.

_Bev._ Am I so meek a husband then? that a commanding wife
prescribes my hours, and sends to chide me for my absence?

Tell her, I'll not return.

_Jar._ Those words would kill her.

_Bev._ Kill her! Would they not be kind then? But she shall liv