Look to the door there! (
In a seeming fright.
)—My friend!—I thought of other visitors.
Bev. No: these shall guard you from them. (Offering notes) Take them, and use them cautiously. The world deals hardly by us.
Stu. And shall I leave you destitute? No: Your wants are greatest. Another climate may treat me kinder. The shelter of to-night takes me from this.
Bev. Let these be your support then. Yet is there need of parting? I may have means again; we'll share them, and live wisely.
Stu. No. I should tempt you on. Habit is nature in me; ruin can't cure it. Even now I would be gaming. Taught by experience as I am, and knowing this poor sum is all that's left us, I am for venturing still. And say I am to blame; yet will this little supply our wants? No; we must put it out to usury. Whether 'tis madness in me, or some resistless impulse of good fortune, I yet am ignorant; but—
Bev. Take it, and succeed then. I'll try no more.
Stu. 'Tis surely impulse; it pleads so strongly—But You are cold—we'll e'en part here then. And for this last reserve, keep it for better uses; I'll have none on't. I thank you though, and will seek fortune singly—One thing I had forgot—
Bev. What is it?