+Elv.+ O, how unkindly have the heavens dealt With womankind above all other creatures! Our pleasure and our glory to have placed All on the brink of precipices, such As every breath can blow the least light of us Headlong into, past all hopes of redemption: Nor can our wit or virtue give exemption. 'Tis true, I lov'd; but justified therein By spotless thoughts and by the object's merit, I deem'd myself above the reach of malice; When in an instant, by another's folly, I am more lost than any by her[6] own. Accurs'd Don Zancho, what occasion E'er gave Elvira to thy mad intrusion? Unless disdain and scorn incentives are To make men's passions more irregular. Ah, matchless rigour of the Pow'rs above! Not only to submit our honour's fate Unto the vanity of those we love, But to the rashness even of those we hate. [_Exit._ _Enter +Donna Blanca+ at one door, reading a paper, with great marks of passion and disturbance; and her waiting-woman +Francisca+ at another, observing her._ +Blan.+ Ah, the traitor! +Fran.+ What can this mean? [_Aside._ +Blan.+ Was this thy sweet pretension at Madrid, Drawn out in length, and hind'ring thy return? Thy fair pretence, thou shouldst have said, false man. +Fran.+ For love's sake, madam, what can move you thus? +Blan.+ For hate's sake, say, and for revenge, Francisca, And so thou may'st persuade me to discover My shame unto thee. Read, read that letter; 'Tis from your favourite Chichon. [_+Francisca+ takes the letter and reads it._ "Madam, to make good my engagements of concealing nothing from you during this absence of my master, I am bound to tell you that some ten days since, late at night, he was left for dead, run through the body by another unknown gallant, in the chamber of a famed beauty of the court. Whilst the danger continued, I thought it not fit to let you know either the accident or the occasion; which, now he is recovered, and thinking of his return to Valencia, I must no longer forbear. I hope you will have a care not to undo me for being more faithful to you than to the master you gave me.--Your creature, "+Chichon.+" +Blan.+ Have I not a worthy gallant, think you?