is—your father!
V.: Ah——!
B.: My father! (The viceroy and Blanca stand as if stupefied.)
S.: (Contemplating them.) And how much a father’s heart must suffer in presenting himself with this sacred title for the first time, to a daughter’s heart. She cannot let him kiss her brow—no, she cannot.
B.: (Supplicatingly.) Sancho!
S.: He cannot feel his eyes wet with tears of joy—but only with tears of vengeance! How much she must suffer and how much he!
V.: Infamy.
S.: Infamy, no! because her suffering is multiplied a hundred-fold in yours.
V.: (Drawing his sword.) Blanca, you die!
B.: (Shrinking, horrified.) Ah!
S.: (Throwing himself upon the viceroy.) Do