Page:Plays by Jacinto Benavente - Second series (IA playsbyjacintobe00bena).pdf/328

 pressed—that might mean humiliation, that might mean guilt. But there was none, I know. Look at me, in the face, full in the eyes—now. They are as clear as the heart below; not a tear. It was not your fault?… By the memory of your mother!

. No, by her memory. But by her memory, by all the deviltries and all the faithlessness of men, I tell you that if the wish, yes, and the purpose, to be guilty are as guilty as the act itself, no woman ever was more guilty. From the bottom of my soul I swear it! I wish that nothing had held me back—not virtue, nor shame, nor my mother's name, nor example, no, and not your love nor your example, holy as were hers; nothing, nothing! You know what I have suffered; your heart has been torn, your life has been wrecked; and you, too, must have felt sometimes, however saintly you may be, the thirst for vengeance for wrongs, for humiliations undeserved—yet you know that when a woman is born honorable, it is not easy for her to cease to be so.

. Is what Pepe tells me true? Has your husband told me the truth? If he has, there is no room for you in my house any more than in his. If you dishonor your husband there, you dishonor your father here.

. Ah!

. Gonzalo!

. Do not defend her! Make no excuse! Out of my house! Never let me see you again!

. No, you shall not see her. Come with me, and do not cry—do not cry, my daughter. Resent this insult if you are not guilty, as you have resented it to me, angrily. For you have told me the truth?…

. Yes, mother.

. Out of my house, I tell you! Get out!