Juan. No.
Laz. (angrily). I say yes. You pushed me—leave me, father; leave me alone with my mother. (Putting him away.) There, there, far off—far off—with Carmen.
Juan (withdraws and embraces Carmen). Oh, my Lazarus, my Lazarus!
Laz. (laughing, to his mother). There are the exiles in their valley of tears.
Car. It is not possible—it is not possible! Let them come—let them come; let them save him!
Juan. Yes—let them save him.
Laz. (to his mother). Now, with you.
Dol. With me—always with me.
Laz. Always with you! No, that’s not true neither. Why, Lord, you people don’t remember anything; here nobody remembers a thing but myself. You sent me away—very far—to an accursed college. I wished to stay with you, and you said, “Let them take him away, let them take him away!” He (pointing to his father) said, “Stay with your mother,” and he went away. You said, “Let them take him away,” and you remained alone. Both, both of you separated yourselves from me. Oh, I remember all this very well, and until now I had never called it to mind. Something seems to be melting within my brain; something goes on sweeping away the ruins of all ideas of the present; and, as amid soil which the torrent drags along, there spring to light ancient moulds, so within here there rushes up the entire world of my childhood. So it is, and I remember everything. I fell asleep night after night without a kiss from either of you. Morning after morning I awoke without a caress from any one. Alone I lived—alone I shall continue to live; go, mother to those yonder. (Putting her away gently.)
Dol. (to Juan). Ah! through you! (Turning back.) Lazarus!