Don Lorenzo. You would not have those men carry me off?
Inés. No, no; I will defend you—and you defend me.
Don Lorenzo. Yes! I will defend you—Let them drag you from my arms if they can. [Makes a movement to carry her away.]
Doña Ángela. My child, my child! Help! [Edward, Dr. Tomás and Bermúdez struggle to separate father and daughter.]
Don Lorenzo. I will not let her go—for ever in my arms!
Inés. Yes, yes, father. Defend me.
Bermúdez. It is imperative.
Edward. Don Lorenzo!
Dr. Tomás. Lorenzo!
Duchess. Merciful god, he will kill her as he killed Juana!
Doña Ángela. Inés! [These exclamations are simultaneous: the struggle is swift. Keepers enter. The men hold Don Lorenzo, and the women restrain Inés, keeping her by force from her father.]
Edward. At last!
Inés. Father! [Holds her arms out to Don Lorenzo.]
Don Lorenzo. I was not able, child.—I could do no more.—Here upon my cheek I feel your kisses and your tears.—She at least loved me—she was innocent—I see it now. God above, thou hast accepted my martyrdom in that night of agony and temptation in exchange for her happiness. I do not regret it. Make her happy—very happy! and let the cup of bitterness be mine alone—only mine!
Inés. Adieu, father—I will save you yet.
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