Enter Don Fernando, and at another door his servant Fabio, both in riding-clothes.
Don F. Have you not been with him, Fabio, and given him
The note?
Fab. I found him newly got out of his bed;
He seem'd much satisfied, though much surpris'd,
With your arrival; and as soon as possibly
He can get ready, he'll be with you here.
He says he hopes some good occasion brings you
To Valencia, and that he shall not be
At quiet till he know it. 'Twas not fit
For me, without your orders, to give him
Any more light than what your ticket did.
Don. F. 'Tis well: go now, and see if Donna Elvira
Be stirring yet, for I would gladly have her
A witness, even at first, to what shall pass
Betwixt my friend and me in our concernments:
If she be still asleep, Fabio, make bold
To knock, and wake her; w' have no time to lose.
O, here she comes. Wait you Don Julio. [Exit Fabio.
Enter Donna Elvira.
Elv. Ah! can you think my cares and sleep consistent?
Slumber and tears have sometimes met in dreams;
But hearts, with such a weight as mine opprest,
Find still the heaviest sleep too light a guest.
Don F. Madam, though such least pity do deserve,
Who by their own unsteadiness have drawn
Misfortune on themselves, yet truly, Elvira,
Such is my sense of yours and my compassion,
To see a lady of your quality
Brought to such sad extremes in what is dearest,
As makes me even forget my own resentments,
Granting to pity the whole place of love;
And at that rate I'll serve you. Yet thus far
You must allow the eruption of a heart
So highly injur'd, as to tell you frankly,
'Tis to comply with my own principles
Of honour now, without the least relation
To former passion or to former favours.
Elv. Those you have found a ready way to cancel;
Your sullen silence, during all our journey,
Might well have spar'd you these superfluous words;
That had sufficiently instructed me
What power mere appearances have had,
Without examination, to destroy
With an umbrageous nature all that love
Was ever able on the solid'st grounds
To found and to establish. Yet, methinks,
A man that boasts such principles of honour,
And of such force to sway him in his actions,
In spite of all resentments, should reflect,
That honour does oblige to a suspense,
At least of judgment, when surprising chances,
Yet uninquired into, tempt gallant men
To prejudicial thoughts of those with whom
They had settled friendship upon virtuous grounds.
But 'tis from Heav'n, I see, and not from you,
Elvira must expect her vindication;
And until then submit to th' hardest fate
That ever can befall a generous spirit—
Of being oblig'd by him that injures her.
Don F. Nay, speak, Elvira, speak; you've me attentive:
[With a kind of scornful accent.