Page:The great Galeoto; Folly or saintliness; two plays done from the verse of José Echegaray into English prose by Hannah Lynch (IA greatgaleotofoll00echerich).djvu/183

. I am indeed miserable.

. You miserable! Inés it is who is miserable, not you, who doubtless find assured ineffable joy and divine consolation in contemplating your own moral perfection. [Ironically.]

. How ill you judge me, and how little you understand me!

. I judge you ill, and yet humbly admire the fruit of your sainthood! That I do not understand you, I admit, for superior beings such as you are not within reach of so mediocre an intelligence as mine.

. Ángela, your words pierce my heart like a sharp dagger.

. Your heart! impossible.

. But what would you have me do? Speak, advise, decide—bring light to a mind that gropes among shadows.

. What would I have you do? Whatever you like now. Only save your child. Place no fresh obstacle to this marriage. Don't continue to irritate the duchess's pride by brutal and futile revelations. Don't make it impossible for us to remedy the evil you have done by any new explosion.

. Frankly, then, you would have me hold my tongue.

. That is it. Hold your tongue.

. But that would be infamous.

. I know nothing about it. I feel, I can't argue.

. My whole soul rises up in revolt against the idea. To become an accomplice in the most repugnant, because most cowardly, of crimes! To enjoy 143