Fan. Heaven forbid I should wish any one to injure you as deeply.
Hel. I cannot understand you—pray explain yourself.
Fan. That’s impossible, madam—my lord would never forgive me.
Hel. Your lord! Let me entreat you to explain your meaning.
Fan. I cannot, madam; I came hither on business of importance, and no trifling business should have brought me to a house inhabited by one who is the cause of all my wretchedness.
Hel. This is a very extraordinary affair! There is a mixture of cultivation and simplicity in your manner that affects me strongly—I see, my poor girl, you are distressed; and though what you have said leaves on my mind a painful suspicion—
Fan. Oh heavens, madam! stay, I beseech you!—I am not what you think me, indeed I am not—I must not, for a moment, let you think of me so injuriously: yet I have promised secrecy! but sure no promise can be binding, when to keep it we must sacrifice all that is valuable in life—hear me, then madam—the struggle is violent; but I owe it to myself to acknowledge all.
Hel. No, no, my dear girl! I now see what it would cost you to reveal your secret, and I will not listen to it; rest assured, I have no longer a thought to your disadvantage: curiosity gives place to interest: for though ’tis cruelty to inflict a wound, ’tis still more deliberate barbarity to probe when we cannot hope to heal it. (going.)
Fan. Stay, madam, stay—your generosity overpowers me! oh madam! you know not how wretched I am.
Hel. What is it affects you thus?—come, if your story is of a nature that may be revealed, you are sure of sympathy.