Bermúdez. It is imperative.
Edward. Don Lorenzo!
Dr. Tomás. Lorenzo!
Duchess. Merciful god, he will kill her as he killed Juana!
Doña Ángela. Inés! [These exclamations are simultaneous: the struggle is swift. Keepers enter. The men hold Don Lorenzo, and the women restrain Inés, keeping her by force from her father.]
Edward. At last!
Inés. Father! [Holds her arms out to Don Lorenzo.]
Don Lorenzo. I was not able, child.—I could do no more.—Here upon my cheek I feel your kisses and your tears.—She at least loved me—she was innocent—I see it now. God above, thou hast accepted my martyrdom in that night of agony and temptation in exchange for her happiness. I do not regret it. Make her happy—very happy! and let the cup of bitterness be mine alone—only mine!
Inés. Adieu, father—I will save you yet.
Don Lorenzo. What can you do, child—when God himself has not seen fit to save me? [Remains near closet between keepers, guarded by Edward, Dr. Tomás and Bermúdez. Inés, held back by the other women, stands with arms strained towards him.]