Duchess. Inés will still bear a name she has no title to.
Edward. She will bear mine, which is worth all others.
Duchess. That is true. But Don Lorenzo——
Edward. Leave him alone. He has enough to do with his philosophy. We have ourselves to think of, and I believe that it can be all managed if you will consent. With a word you can give Inés back life, and give a new life to me in exchange for that which your unkindness blighted, and which I first owed to your affection. Restore happiness to this unhappy family, and bestow their usurped fortune upon the rightful heirs without noise or vain display. This is no felony, and it is not a monstrous thing to do.
Duchess. You magnetise me, Edward. I scarce know what to say. But an inward voice warns me that what you suggest is neither right nor just,—that deception can never be preferable to truth, and despite Don Lorenzo's ravings, I feel that duty triumphs in him, while in you it is passion that triumphs, for all your arguments.
Edward. How so? Tell me.
Duchess. I cannot discuss it with you, Edward.
Edward. What you cannot do is love me as you ought.
Duchess. Not love you; cruel boy! You have wounded me to the heart, though I know that you do not believe what you say.
Edward. Then yield to me.