Page:Plays by Jacinto Benavente - Second series (IA playsbyjacintobe00bena).pdf/262

 and the faith which I had in his love. She even carried her resentment beyond the grave, and when she died she put into my hands my mother's letters, which she made me promise never to open until I had married myself.

. What was in those letters?

. They were terrible beyond words. My mother's life was torment and hell. When you see them, you will understand why I cannot confide in my father. So I open my heart to you, and cry my eyes out in bitterness when I realize that I have thrown myself away upon a contemptible cur, who, like all men, is a deceiver.

. Not like all men.

. Then let me believe that all men are like him, because I should be even more unhappy than I am if I thought that there was one who was not.

. Why? Are you keeping something back?… Are you trying to deceive me? This bitterness seems more like rebellion than regret, and I am frightened by it. I know that you loved another man before you did Pepe, you loved him with your whole soul… It may be, as you say, that life has never had any secrets from you since you were a child, yet perhaps you have never understood why you were obliged to give him up, perhaps you have never been able to forget…

. No, I understood. How could I help but understand? I accepted your reasons without question. It was not necessary for Enrique to go away in order to induce me to forget him.

. If that is true, you are in love with another man! He pursues, he torments you—and you struggle to defend yourself. Who is he? No, you need not tell me—I know who he is. His name has been too frequently upon your lips for me not to guess where the danger lies. But you cannot believe in his love! You could not be so false to yourself,