Ans. O heaven! how wonderful are thy doings, and how true it is that it only belongs to thee to work miracles! Come to my arms, my children, and share the joy of your happy father!
Val. You are our father?
Mar. It was for you that my mother wept?
Ans. Yes, my daughter; yes, my son; I am Don Thomas d'Alburci, whom heaven saved from the waves, with all the money he had with him, and who, after sixteen years, believing you all dead, was preparing, after long journeys, to seek the consolations of a new family in marrying a gentle and virtuous woman. The little security there was for my life in Naples has made me abandon the idea of returning there, and having found the means of selling what I had, I settled here under the name of Anselme. I wished to forget the sorrows of a name associated with so many and great troubles.
Har. (to Anselme). He is your son?
Ans. Yes.
Har. That being so, I make you responsible for the ten thousand crowns that he has stolen from me.
Ans. He steal anything from you!
Har. Yes.
Val. Who said so?