be than the chain'd wretch
That beats the dungeon walls.

[As he is passing by Mrs. ANDREWS, she seizes the skirt of his coat.]

Mrs. ANDREWS. Oh sir!--my husband!--

ANDREWS. Take! take the vile adultress from my sight.

Mrs. ANDREWS. For charity, forbear those bitter words.
True, I have injur'd you beyond all hopes
Either of your indulgence, or heav'n's mercy.
But by that Pow'r! before whose just tribunal,
I shortly shall be summon'd to appear,
My soul abhors the base imputed guilt,
(How strong soe'er appearance speak against me)
Ev'n in thought.

ANDREWS. Abandon'd, faithless woman!
Oh! that her foul disgrace clos'd with her eyes!
Then might I undisturb'd behold this havock. [Aside]
Did not I, find you on your knees to him?

Mrs. ANDREWS. I was beseeching him to leave the room.

ANDREWS. How came he there?

Mrs. ANDREWS. By the same Pow'r supreme!
You're not yourself of that event more ignorant.
Soon as my woman for the night had left me,
He from the closet rush'd into my chamber.

ANDREWS. Oh! I have been too hasty--much too rash.------

Mrs. ANDREWS. You will not think so, when you hear the whole.
The wretched nobleman, you now have punish'd,
Is not less guilty than if I had yielded.
Yet, think not that I mean t' acquit myself;
My conduct led him to the vile attempt:
And, oh! with rage and thirst of vengeance fir'd,
I was too busy in th' infernal plot,
Contain'd in that false letter to your friend,
The honest, gen'rous, and most faithful Wilson.
I also had your old and trusty steward
Accus'd of crimes to which he was a stranger;
And Jefferson to me owes his perdition.

ANDREWS. Cease! cease! pour self-convicting mourner, cease!--
This cannot be--'tis the sick fancy's dream.

Mrs. ANDREWS. Oh! that it were untrue, as thou art kind.
Yes; this, all this, and more I have committed.
I have undone thee--I, thy bosom's favourite,--
And am the fatal source of all these horrors.
But my swift hast'ning fate will be some recompence.--
I bleed within apace, and grow most faint------
How happy was I once, and how ungrateful!

ANDREWS. 'Tis, 'tis too much--

Mrs. ANDREWS. Alas! I see it is.--
How these reflections rack my madding brain!--