Act 2 — SCENE VI
Hannah Lynch translation
Don Lorenzo and Juana, who stands in door R.
Don Lorenzo. A flickering shadow has passed before my eyes. Has it all been a dream? No, Juana is yonder, and the proof, the proof. [Opens desk and takes 153out paper.] Here is the proof. Unhappily it is no dream. It is terrible and implacable reality. I have read it a hundred times, and can never weary of reading it: 'I have loved you like a son, although you are no child of ours.' 'Although you are no child of ours!'
Juana. [Aside, watching him.] He is reading—reading that letter written by one he believed to be his mother. I it is who am his mother—not another. [Advances slowly.] How sad he looks! and there are tears in his eyes. In his eyes, do I say? Perhaps it is my own eyes, looking at him, that are wet. His eyes or mine! What matter? There are tears somewhere. [Comes nearer.] He is crying. Why? Because I am his mother? But what of that, if nobody else knows my secret? I am so near death! Yes, death! I shall soon die. Cold and eternal night has already penetrated to the depths of my being. It is all dark within. [Staggers and leans against the table. Don Lorenzo turns to her.]
Don Lorenzo. Juana!
Juana. Still that name.
Don Lorenzo. Mother!
Juana. It offends you that I am such—I see it.
Don Lorenzo. Do you think so ill of me?
Juana. Well, if it does not offend you, you are ashamed of me as your mother?
Don Lorenzo. I ashamed of you! To-morrow the world will know that I am your son.
Juana. To-morrow! What do you mean? [With terror.] My hearing is dull, and I cannot rightly have understood what you said.
Don Lorenzo. I made a mistake. Not to-morrow. You must leave Spain first, and then, when you are in some safe place, since man's justice can often be very cruel, I 154will proclaim the truth aloud. I will give up a name that is not mine, as well as an appropriated fortune. That is what I have decided to do.
Juana. Christ above!
Don Lorenzo. And then along with Ángela and my poor child I will join you.
Juana. You, poor and dishonoured, with only a stained and contemptible name! And why? Wherefore? What compels you? Speak, my son. My wits forsake me. What forces you to it?
Don Lorenzo. Conscience, mother, and your misdoing.
Juana. You intend to tell the truth?
Don Lorenzo. [Angrily.] Why did you ever tell it to me? If I had known nothing about it I should not now be obliged to break my daughter's heart.
Juana. Why? And you can ask me that? You don't understand? Oh, ungrateful son! [Hides her face in her hands and sobs bitterly.]
Don Lorenzo. Mother!
Juana. Because I was dying, because I am dying—and I wanted you to know all that I had sacrificed for your sake before I went. And because I wished to hear you call me mother at least once. For that, and for no other reason. Because the heart within me rose to my throat and nearly choked me, till at last I could no longer command myself, and had to call you son.
Don Lorenzo. I understand, mother, and do not blame you.
Juana. But you will not do as you have just threatened? Say you will not. It would be infamous to your family and most cruel to me.
Don Lorenzo. Cruel, yes, but not infamous. With this cruelty shall I wipe out all infamy.
155Juana. Lorenzo!
Don Lorenzo. Forgive me.
Juana. [Tragically.] You accuse me of having committed an infamy?
Don Lorenzo. I have not said it.
Juana. [In stifled voice.] But it was for your sake—for your sake, my son. [Don Lorenzo remains silent and gloomy, not looking toward his mother.] My God, I did it for his sake, and this is how he repays me! Lorenzo!
Don Lorenzo. Wrong may not prevail. The work of iniquity must fall into ruins beneath its own weight. My sacrifice will serve to wipe out your sin.
Juana. Lorenzo! [Don Lorenzo draws her to the light and places the letter in her hand, obliging her to read it.]
Don Lorenzo. What does it say there?
Juana. [Sits down and reads with difficulty.] 'Forgive me, and may God inspire you.'
Don Lorenzo. Well, mother, I have forgiven her, and prayed to Heaven for inspiration. Your entreaties are vain.