+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._ It were a wonder worthy of your wit To make me trust my ears before my eyes. +Elv.+ Those are the witnesses, indeed, Fernando, To whose true testimony's false inference You owe my moderation and my silence, And that I leave it to the gods and time To make appear both to the world and you The maxim false, that still the worst proves true. _Enter +Fabio+._ +Fab.+ Don Julio is without.