Enter Eliza and Lettice.
Eliza. What, cousin, I am brought hither by your woman, I suppose, to be a witness of the second vindication of your honour?
Oliv. Insulting is not generous. You might spare me, I have you.
Eliza. Have a care, cousin, you'll confess anon too much; and I would not have your secrets.
Man. Come, your blushes answer me sufficiently, and you have been my volunteer in love. [To Fidelia.
Fid. I must confess I needed no compulsion to follow you all the world over; which I attempted in this habit, partly out of shame to own my love to you, and fear of a greater shame, your refusal of it; for I knew of your engagement to this lady, and the constancy of your nature; which nothing could have altered but herself.
Man. Dear madam, I desired you to bring me out of confusion, and you have given me more. I know not what to speak to you, or how to look upon you; the sense of my rough, hard, and ill usage of you, (though chiefly your own fault,) gives me more pain now 'tis over, than you had when you suffered it: and if my heart, the refusal of such a woman—[Pointing to Olivia]—were not a sacrifice to profane your love, and a greater wrong to you than ever yet I did you, I would beg of you to receive it, though you used it as she had done; for though it deserved not from her the treatment she gave it, it does from you.
Fid. Then it has had punishment sufficient from her already, and needs no more from me; and, I must confess, I would not be the only cause of making you break your last night's oath to me, of never parting with me; if you do not forget or repent it.
Man. Then take for ever my heart, and this with it;—[Gives her the cabinet] for 'twas given to you before, and my heart was before your due: I only beg leave to dispose of these few.—Here, madam, I never yet left my wench unpaid. [Takes some of the jewels, and offers them to Olivia; she strikes them down: Lord Plausible and Novel take them up.