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/208

. Tomás!

. In some good asylum here in Spain or abroad

. What! What is it you say? Separate him from us! Take him away! He—he—never. I am his wife. I will never consent to it.

. The sight of Inés will aggravate his delirium.

. Her absence would be his death.

. He smothered that poor woman to death.

. There you are wrong, Tomás. With her father Inés runs no risk. She is his daughter.

. He believed Juana to be his mother.

. It must not be, Tomás, it must not be. Why can't you find a way of relieving my anguish instead of torturing me so?

. Doña Ángela!

. It is true, my friend, 'twould indeed be no easy matter to find consolation for such a sorrow as mine.

. There is no human sorrow inconsolable, however great it may be.

. Oh, but mine is.

. Yours still less than many others. Come, let us discuss it dispassionately.

. How can I, with fever running fire in my veins?

. Hear me out. If what Don Lorenzo asserts be true, if there were irrefragable proofs

. Then my poor husband would not be out 168