Duchess. Poor child!
Doña Ángela. She will not remain in bed, though we begged her to do so, and her nervous agitation is such that she fills us with terror. If strength had not failed her, she would have come to look for you. In kindness, duchess, do go to my stricken girl, and console her, you who are so affectionate a mother. 'Tis a most afflicted mother that implores you.
Edward. And you will tell her that there is still hope, that all depends upon Don Lorenzo—won't you?
Doña Ángela. What? Is it true? Oh, madam [To duchess, and takes her hand effusively.]
Edward. Yes [to Doña Ángela], I will explain it. You must persuade your husband.
Duchess. But [Edward does not heed her, and talks aside to Doña Ángela.] That boy of mine does just what he likes with me. What am I to say to this good woman now that he has promised my consent? Oh, what a hare-brained fellow! The girl herself is lovely, like a dream, and altogether very charming. Poor Inés!—and Don Lorenzo possesses, or rather did possess, a colossal fortune. Ah! what things are human might and human vanity!
Doña Ángela. [To Edward.] I understand, I understand. [Then comes over to the duchess.] I am very grateful to you for your great kindness. Do, pray, carry the good news yourself to my daughter, and I, in a little while, will induce Lorenzo to consent. Never fear, he will give in. It is certain, else will he prove himself quite heartless.
Edward. Come, mother.
Duchess. What am I to do?
Edward. How good of you! [Exeunt Duchess and Edward, R.]
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