Ernest. Forgive me, forgive me!
D. Julian. You ask my forgiveness? Then you acknowledge your sin?
Ernest. No.
D. Julian. Yes.
Ernest. I say it is not so.
D. Julian. Then here before me, look at her.
D. Severo. Julian!
Mercedes. Sir!
D. Julian. [To Teodora and Ernest.] Perhaps you are afraid? So it is not like a brother that you cherish her? If so, prove it. Let me see what sort of light shines in your eyes as they meet—whether, to my close inspection, the rays dart passion's flame, or mild affection. Come here, Teodora. Both—so—still nearer. [Drags Teodora until she stumbles, so that both faces are compelled towards each other.]
Teodora. [Frees herself with a violent effort.] Oh, no.