Doña Ángela. You are always so good to us.
Duchess. It is my duty to offer the consolations of sincere friendship in your cruel trouble. God has willed that the same misfortune should strike us all though in different ways. [Lowers her voice and points to Edward on uttering the last word.]
Doña Ángela. But what then do you call the misfortune that has struck me? I know not.
Edward. Well, madam, the moment for naming it has arrived. It is called poverty, and shame, and the death of Inés, or——
Doña Ángela and Duchess, [At same time.] Edward!
Edward. Forgive me, mother. We should each and all speak out the truth to-day. You have already said: 'I will compromise with Don Lorenzo's calamity for the sake of the love I bear you and that which you bear me; but I will never compromise with his public dishonour,—never, not even for the price of your life.' My life, mother, was it not so 'twas said?
Duchess. [With energy, but sadly.] Yes.
Edward. [Going toward Doña Ángela.] Then, madam, let us probe the misfortune that has struck you. Whether is it called dishonour or madness? This is the problem we have to solve. Should Don Lorenzo be correct, should he be in his sound senses, should there be proof forthcoming of his assertion, it is for us to respect his cruel virtue. But if, as I (by a thousand signs that almost constitute evidence) believe, an eternal cloud has dimmed his intellect, and the light of his reason is for ever quenched,—then defend yourself, Doña Ángela. It is your most sacred duty. Defend the name you bear, your social position, even Don Lorenzo's honour, against his own raving; defend,—why should I keep it back?—Inés' life and her life's felicity. Do not, madam, leave such almighty interests and so dear an object at the mercy of a madman.
Duchess. Edward!
Edward. The word is a harsh one, but the time has come to pronounce it. Once for all, let us learn the fact whether this battle for reputation and existence into which Don Lorenzo has cast us is what it seems or what I fear:—whether, finally, the heroic sacrifice of this implacable scholar is insanity or sanctity.