S.: Infamy, no! because her suffering is multiplied a hundred-fold in yours.
V.: (Drawing his sword.) Blanca, you die!
B.: (Shrinking, horrified.) Ah!
S.: (Throwing himself upon the viceroy.) Do not touch her; look at her—she is innocent! Love has robbed me of my prey. I love her so much that my love conquered my vengeance. (Joy appears on the face of the viceroy.) But do not rejoice, Viceroy. You who rob women of their honor, and assassinate old men, do not rejoice. Only God and you and I know that she is pure. I have not dared to outrage her by a single glance; but, tomorrow——
V.: Ah!
S.: Tomorrow the whole court shall know that she’s your daughter.
S.: And that she passed the night here. (Pointing to the inner rooms.)
V.: Thou shalt die.
S.: My squire knows it——