Laz. Yes, once we were as we are now—ha, ha, ha!
Juan. The same as now.
Car. Oh, his look—his look! (Aside.)
Laz. Hush—hush. As now—no, not as now. My mother was dishevelled, weeping, but very beautiful, and you haughty and disdainful, but gay and elegant. Away! and she weeping, sobbing, and you laughing; and you quarrelled—how you quarrelled!—it was terrible.
Juan. No.
Laz. Yes. I see it now.
Car. (aside). His look! How he stares on every side!
Juan. Don’t be angry—but you don’t remember well.
Laz. (angrily). I must not be contradicted. You quarrelled. I know it—I see it—as I still feel that terror.
Juan. Lazarus!