ALV. (Aside). It is better not to answer him when his mind is so upset.
GARC. Oh! how deeply am I wounded! But I shall see who it is, and punish with my own hand…. But here she comes. Restrain thyself, O rage!
SCENE VIII.—DONNA ELVIRA, DON GARCIA, DON ALVAREZ.
ELV. Well, what do you want? However bold you may be, how can you hope for pardon, after the way you have behaved? Dare you again present yourself before me? And what can you say that will become me to hear?
GARC. That all the wickedness of this world is not to be compared to your perfidy; that neither fate, hell, nor Heaven in its wrath ever produced anything so wicked as you are.
[Footnote: The above words of Don Garcia are also in the Misanthrope,
Act iv., Scene 3 (see Vol. II).]
ELV. How is this? I expected you would excuse your outrage; but I find you use other words.
GARC. Yes, yes, other words. You did not think that, the door being by accident left half open, I should discover the caitiff in your arms, and thus behold your shame, and my doom. Is it the happy lover who has returned, or some other rival to me unknown? O Heaven! grant me sufficient strength to bear such tortures. Now, blush, you have cause to do so; your treachery is laid bare. This is what the agitations of my mind prognosticated; it was not without cause that my love took alarm; my continual suspicions were hateful to you, but I was trying to discover the misfortune my eyes have beheld; in spite of all your care, and your skill in dissembling, my star foretold me what I had to fear. But do not imagine that I will bear unavenged the slight of being insulted! I know that we have no command over our inclinations; that love will everywhere spring up spontaneously; that there is no entering a heart by force, and that every soul is free to name its conqueror; therefore I should have no reason to complain, if you had spoken to me without dissembling; you would then have sounded the death-knell of my hope; but my heart could have blamed fortune alone. But to see my love encouraged by a deceitful avowal on your part, is so treacherous and perfidious an action, that it cannot meet with too great a punishment; I can allow my resentment to do anything. No, no, after such an outrage, hope for nothing. I am no longer myself, I am mad with rage.
[Footnote: The whole of this speech, from "Now blush," until "mad with rage," has, with few alterations, been used in the Misanthrope. Act iv., Scene 3 (see Vol. II).]
Betrayed on all sides, placed in so sad a situation, my love must avenge itself to the utmost; I shall sacrifice everything here to my frenzy, and end my despair with my life.