Enter hurriedly and excitedly JOVITA, R., followed by MANUELA.
Jovita. Where is she? Where is HE?—the traitor!
Manuela (entreatingly). Compose yourself, Dona Jovita, for the love of God! This is madness: believe me, there is some mistake. It is some trick of an enemy,—of that ingrate, that coyote, Concho, who hates the Don Alexandro.
Jovita. A trick! Call you this a trick? Look at this paper, put into my hands by my father a moment ago. Read it. Ah! listen. (Reads.) "In view of the EVIDENT PREFERENCES of my son, Alexander Morton, I hereby revoke my consent to his marriage with the Dona Jovita Castro, and accord him full permission to woo and win his cousin, Miss Mary Morris!" Call you this a trick, eh? No, it is their perfidy! This is why SHE was brought here on the eve of my betrothal. This accounts for his silence, his absence. Oh, I shall go mad!
Manuela. Compose yourself, miss. If I am not deceived, there is one here who will aid us,—who will expose this deceit. Listen: an hour ago, as I passed through the hall, I saw Diego, our old Diego,—your friend and confidant, Diego.
Jovita. The drunkard—the faithless Diego!
Manuela. Never, Miss Jovita; not drunken! For, as he passed before me, he was as straight, as upright, as fine as your lover. Come, miss, we will seek him.
Jovita. Never! He, too, is a traitor.
Manuela. Believe me, no! Come, Miss Jovita. (Looking toward L.) See, he is there. Some one is with him.
Jovita (looking). You are right; and it is she—SHE, Miss Mary! What? he is kissing her hand! and she—SHE, the double traitress—drops her head upon his shoulder! Oh, this is infamy!