Inez—No, father.
Lorenzo—How cruel I am! Ah! you think it, although you do not say it.
Edward—Inez is an angel. Rebellious thoughts can find no place in her heart; but who that sees her can fail to think it and to say it?
Lorenzo—No one; you are right.
Edward [with energy]—If I am right, then you are wrong.
Lorenzo—I am right also. There is something more pallid than the pallid brow of a lovesick maiden; there is something sadder than the sad tears that fall from her beautiful eyes; something more bitter than the smile that contracts her lips; something more tragic than the death of her beloved.
Edward [with scornful vehemence]—And what is that pallor, what are those tears, and what the tragedies you speak of?
Lorenzo—Insensate! [Seizing him by the arm.] The pallor of crime, the tears of remorse, the consciousness of our own vileness.
Edward—And it would be vile, and criminal, and a source of remorse, to make Inez happy?