May be a base invention for his purpose--
Yet, may not both be true?--distracting state!

Enter Mrs. ANDREWS.

[He in profound thought, and not observing her.]

Mrs. ANDREWS. He heeds me not. The letter strongly works. [Aside.]
I've been inform'd, sir, that you wish'd to see me.
You seem disturb'd; acquaint me with the cause.

ANDREWS. Forbear to question me. I am not well.

Mrs. ANDREWS. You yield too much to melancholy thoughts.

ANDREWS. True--Melancholy hath been long my portion;
As I've too long the fatal cause conceal'd:
But ev'ry duty now, to heaven, to you,
To my poor children, to myself, all, all
Demand it from the husband and the father,
That you, oh! you, are the sole, fatal cause. [She offers to
withdraw, he shuts the door.]

Mrs. ANDREWS. How your looks scare me! what have I committed?

ANDREWS. O! many things you should not have committed.
To number all the mischiefs which your conduct,
Your most misguided conduct hath induc'd
On those, to whom, each law divine and human
Had bound you in affiection's strongest ties,