Berm. Good; then take a rest, put your mind at ease; and before my setting out for Madrid I shall return. I have to convince you——
Laz. I am convinced! Oh, my God! I don’t wish to keep you any longer, I have sufficiently abused your kindness.
Berm. (making a movement to withdraw). Then if you will permit me——
Laz. Yes, señor, assuredly (accompanying him). And don’t have any ill-will towards me.
Berm. Good God—no; however, my friend——
Laz. (detaining him). One moment! (In his ear.) When?
Berm. Some other time.
Laz. No; the one thing that I wish you to tell me, is this: “Lazarus, there is no hope; the attack will be next month, or next week, or to-morrow, or to-night, or this very hour,” in short, when must it be? This is the only thing you have to tell me: I ask no more.
Berm. But how can you have me knowingly utter nonsense?
Laz. (energetically). Because you have the inevitable power of telling me the truth; however sharp, however bitter, however mournful, it may be, you must tell it to me. It is a question of honour, of life or death. Now you shall understand me. (In a low voice in the doctor’s ear.) I love, I adore Carmen; our wedding has been arranged: it will take place in a short time—within fifteen days. And now, answer me: Can I, in conscience, without being guilty of infamy, can I bind the existence of Carmen to my existence—to the existence of an idiot?