Don Lorenzo. Inés, my daughter!
Inés. And you also, mother, you also. [Embraces Doña Ángela. Don Lorenzo and Dr. Tomás move away from sofa, where Doña Ángela and Inés remain seated, and come to the middle of the stage.]
Dr. Tomás. Poor philosopher! Neither of those two has read a single page of all your books, and both know more than you do. You think yourself strong, and in their hands you are as soft as wax. You think yourself a sage, and in their arms you are an innocent, not to say a fool. You think yourself just and uncorruptible, and upon the will of those two women you could be led into any injustice or weakness.
Don Lorenzo. No, Tomás. When I am sustained by principle my will is iron.
Dr. Tomás. I don't say 'we shall see,' because they are both angels—but, alas! if they were other! Permit me to parody the great poet, and exclaim with him: 'Temptation, thy name is woman!'
Don Lorenzo. [Energetically.] 'Words, words, words,' he said before that, doubtless, in prescience of the parody.
Dr. Tomás. There you are, up on the rostrum already.
Inés. Don't tease papa.
Don Lorenzo. The doctor's sallies don't annoy me, child.
Dr. Tomás. This is where we stand—that for affection, for friendship, for love, for what you call the mysterious attraction of one soul for another, we can and should arrive at——