SCENE III
_Doña Ángela and Dr. Tomás. Doña Ángela follows Bermúdez with her eyes, then glances towards the closet where keepers are concealed._
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Who was that going away? And who were the two men that accompanied him?
DR. TOMÁS. Don't be alarmed, dear madam. It will be all right. These are only ordinary precautions, for, who knows? Don Lorenzo might have another access of fury like that of the night before last, and for your sakes—for his own——
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Oh, doctor, don't hint such a thing.
DR. TOMÁS. Don't you remember with what frenzy he grasped poor Juana's dying body? Now that nobody is listening, in all confidence let me say that I firmly believe he was the determining cause——
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Tomás, Tomás!
DR. TOMÁS. Well, at any rate he hastened her death. You heard how bitterly he accused himself in his delirium. Don't let us forge illusions. It was a real access of——
DOÑA ÁNGELA. [_Sobbing._] Lorenzo, my husband!
DR. TOMÁS. The crisis may return, for to-day——
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Yes, I know what his intention is. Ah, doctor, how unfortunate we are! How unfortunate my poor Lorenzo is!
DR. TOMÁS. What is he doing now?
DOÑA ÁNGELA. He is quite calm. He writes, and walks about. He wants to be continually with Inés and me, because solitude terrifies him. A moment ago he stared at me mournfully, but with such tenderness, and kissed me, murmuring, 'poor Ángela.'
DR. TOMÁS. You must not contradict him.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. No, doctor. We agree with him in everything.
DR. TOMÁS. And he still persists in the same idea?
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Yes. From time to time he asks what o'clock it is, gets impatient with the notary's delay, and then mutters in an undertone: 'Though all the world should oppose me, I must do it.'
DR. TOMÁS. What a fellow! What character!
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Oh, doctor, for the love of God, don't deceive me. Tell me, do you really believe Lorenzo to be—to be,—no, I can't—I can't bring myself to pronounce the horrible word.
DR. TOMÁS. I don't yet know what to believe. We shall soon see, my dear friend, we shall see. It was precisely to be relieved once and for all of intolerable anxiety that I asked Dr. Bermúdez to call. He is the first authority upon all such cases.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. But it is impossible, it is surely impossible.
DR. TOMÁS. It would rejoice me to learn so, and we need not lose hope. But impossible, madam! Ah, human reason is so slight a thing.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Oh, my dear husband! No, I cannot bear—it cannot be.
DR. TOMÁS. Come, come, Doña Ángela. Have sense and courage, if only for your daughter's sake, for poor Inés. And who knows yet? We have to see if Don Lorenzo has any explanation to offer—any proof——
DOÑA ÁNGELA. What proof can he have? Even the dying Juana cried out to him, 'No, no, you are not my son,' while he, frenzied and delirious, grasped her in his arms and strove to force an impossible confession from the half dead body, calling her 'mother' in the strident voice of dementia. No, you can't console me, friend. It is useless. I foresee that our misfortune is inevitable.
DR. TOMÁS. I almost fear so.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. And then his way of receiving the duchess, he who is always the pink of courtesy, a finished gentleman——
DR. TOMÁS. You are right. On that occasion I understood how it was with him. But who can be resigned when fate strikes so suddenly?
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Adoring a child as he adores Inés, is there anybody who could act as he proposes to act to-day?
DR. TOMÁS. Nobody, madam, nobody in his right mind.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Have you told Dr. Bermúdez?
DR. TOMÁS. Not everything. That would be dangerous. But quite enough to enable him to pronounce an opinion.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. And what is it?
DR. TOMÁS. Am I to speak fully?
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Yes, yes, doctor. Conceal nothing. I know there is no remedy.
DR. TOMÁS. With skillful treatment, separated from everybody, especially from those whose presence could only serve to exasperate his nervous sensibility by very reason of his affection for them——
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Tomás!
DR. TOMÁS. In some good asylum here in Spain or abroad——
DOÑA ÁNGELA. What! What is it you say? Separate him from us! Take him away! He—he—never. I am his wife. I will never consent to it.
DR. TOMÁS. The sight of Inés will aggravate his delirium.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Her absence would be his death.
DR. TOMÁS. He smothered that poor woman to death.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. There you are wrong, Tomás. With her father Inés runs no risk. She is his daughter.
DR. TOMÁS. He believed Juana to be his mother.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. It must not be, Tomás, it must not be. Why can't you find a way of relieving my anguish instead of torturing me so?
DR. TOMÁS. Doña Ángela!
DOÑA ÁNGELA. It is true, my friend, 'twould indeed be no easy matter to find consolation for such a sorrow as mine.
DR. TOMÁS. There is no human sorrow inconsolable, however great it may be.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Oh, but mine is.
DR. TOMÁS. Yours still less than many others. Come, let us discuss it dispassionately.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. How can I, with fever running fire in my veins?
DR. TOMÁS. Hear me out. If what Don Lorenzo asserts be true, if there were irrefragable proofs——
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Then my poor husband would not be out of his mind. We it would be who are blind and foolish. Oh, what a blessing that would be!
DR. TOMÁS. Not so great, for in that case you would have to face poverty, dishonour—death even.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Hush, Tomás.
DR. TOMÁS. I say death advisedly, for Inés would most certainly die of it. On the other hand, if Lorenzo's calamity be proved——
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Don't continue. I can't bear to think of it.
DR. TOMÁS. But think of Inés, and in thinking of her you will see that, terrible as the wound is—we must acknowledge the fact, sad as it is—it is by no means a mortal wound. For youth, what alone is mortal is to destroy the future—not simply precipitate the past into nothingness.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. For mercy's sake, Tomás!
DR. TOMÁS. The happiness of Inés' lifetime depends upon her father's calamity—don't forget it.
DOÑA ÁNGELA. Let God's will be done, but do not seek to awaken ideas rather fitted to frighten than to comfort me.