Inés. [Embracing her.] Your love of me.
Doña Ángela. Hush, child, hush!
Inés. They are all against my father, every one. Poor father!
Duchess. You are raving, Inés.
Inés. Yes, I am raving, and so are you, and so are all of us—all excepting him, excepting him—my heart tells me so. You yourself, madam, what is it you desire but Edward's happiness; and Edward wants my love, and I his. My father, with his virtue and his honour, is our mutual obstacle, while in us something obscure twists itself about us till conscience is enveloped in shadows. Oh, my father, my dearest father!
Doña Ángela. For pity's sake, Inés! What ideas!
Inés. What is he saying—tell me what he is saying! I hear his voice.
Edward. [Approaching.] He is speaking of conclusive evidence.
Inés. Would to God there were. [To Edward.] And now?
Edward. They are demanding to see the evidence in order to draw up the act and present it to the judge.
Doña Ángela. And he?
Edward. He is smiling triumphantly. He is pale, fearfully pale, but composed and dignified. Here they are coming. [Edward comes down the stage and says aside.] That man terrifies me.
Inés. [Aside.] God grant it may be true—though my love should perish.
Doña Ángela. [To the Duchess.] Can it be true?
Duchess. [To Doña Ángela.] Can it be true?
Edward. [Aside, seeing Don Lorenzo enter.] Ah, is it I who am mad?
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