B.: Sancho! Save me from this dishonor!
S.: (Paying no attention to her; to the Viceroy.) When finally a father meets——
V.: (Trying to stop Sancho’s mouth.) Silence, cursed wretch, silence——!
S.: Blanca; this is not your guardian, he is—your father!
B.: My father! (The viceroy and Blanca stand as if stupefied.)
S.: (Contemplating them.) And how much a father’s heart must suffer in presenting himself with this sacred title for the first time, to a daughter’s heart. She cannot let him kiss her brow—no, she cannot.
B.: (Supplicatingly.) Sancho!
S.: He cannot feel his eyes wet with tears of joy—but only with tears of vengeance! How much she must suffer and how much he!
V.: Infamy.