_Don Lorenzo and Juana._
DON LORENZO. Now we are alone.
JUANA. Lorenzo!
DON LORENZO. What is it? Do you distrust me? Then I will go away.
Promise to give me that paper. My child's happiness awaits me yonder,
and nevertheless a hand of iron, the hand of implacable fate retains
me here by your side. Consider, Juana, if I am resolved to probe this
secret.
JUANA. Lorenzo!
DON LORENZO. The paper! Since it was written by my mother, it is mine.
JUANA. Don't be angry with me, Lorenzo, dear one. It is here. [_Takes it
from her bosom._] This is it.
DON LORENZO. [_Tries to seize it._] Give it me.
JUANA. Wait, wait. I will read it myself. I will read it more slowly
than you—and thus you will be spared a too sudden knowledge of the
truth.
DON LORENZO. Then read on, and let us see.
JUANA. Yes, dear, but do not look at me. Only listen. [_Holds the paper
so that Don Lorenzo shall not see the contents; reads._] 'Lorenzo, my
son, forgive me——'
DON LORENZO. Again!
JUANA. [_Reading._] 'I feel that the end of life is near for me, and
remorse has taken hold of me.' [_Pause._]
DON LORENZO. Continue.
JUANA. 'I wish to tell you the truth, and I love you too greatly to do
so. Read the secret of your existence in these lines stained by my
tears, and do then as you will.'
DON LORENZO. The secret of my existence! Give it me. [_Tries to snatch
the paper from her._]
JUANA. No.
DON LORENZO. What nightmare is this, Juana? You seem to have encircled
my head with a band of iron that presses intolerably across my
temples. Give me that paper.
JUANA. No. God help me!
DON LORENZO. You must. [_Seizes the paper, and reads with intense
emotion._] 'Your father was rich, very rich. He possessed millions. I
was very poor. We had no children——' We had no children, she says——