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 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.