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 left to guard me, and—swallowed poison.