Scene—Evening in a Spanish patio in the governor’s palace. It is seen obliquely. In the foreground and on the three other sides a portico of columns surrounds the central space which is open to the sky. The court is ornamented with flowers and shrubs and pomegranate, orange, myrtle and laurel trees in red earthen pots. Seats of all kinds are scattered about. At the foot, on the ground floor, is a large chamber with a door in the middle and windows on the sides. At the right, in the foreground, under the portico, a small stairway of five carpeted steps faces the audience and ends on a landing which gives access to a vestibule and the bridal chamber, where the outlines of dimly-lighted windows are seen. The columns of the portico are decorated with palms, foliage and flowers fastened with silk ribbons. Roses and jasmines climb on the walls. At the left, clearly in view, is a door opening on the street, which is brightly lighted by the moon when the door is open. The moon also shines intensely bright on the front and right side of the house. The rooms on the first floor have lighted windows. Lanterns hang from the pillars of the portico. Hung from a pillar at the left, a Madonna lamp lights the front of the scene. There are doors at the right, the left, the foot and at the extremities of the portico.

Through the door and windows of the first floor is seen the great dining chamber containing a table. In the scene, cavaliers, women, bourgeoise and invited guests of all kinds are seated everywhere; valets are hurrying about passing basins of silver with fruits, cake, etc. The seÑoras, seated, fan themselves, chatter and gossip. There is a loud noise of talk and laughter. Music is heard in the banquet hall, interrupted with lively bursts of applause and exclamations of joy. Little Spanish airs are played sweetly on instruments like flutes, violins and hautebois.

Scene One

Cardenos, Ramiro, DoÑa Rufina, DoÑa Serafina, DoÑa Syrena, DoÑa Fabia, Velasco, Don Ambrosio, Rioubos, Cristobol, Cavaliers, Women, etc.

Ambrosio, Syrena, Serafina, Fabia, are seated in the foreground. Cristobol and Rioubos are outside.

DoÑa Fabia. Ah! here is DoÑa Rufina.

DoÑa Rufina enters with Ramiro into the foreground. Salutations.

Ramiro. (To DoÑa Rufina) Then, SeÑora, you were not at the cathedral?

DoÑa Rufina. (Seating herself in a chair which Ramiro places at the left) No!—I have just arrived from Aranjuez, bringing the Queen’s gift to the bride—a very costly girdle-buckle.

Cristobol. It was a beautiful ceremony, SeÑora.

Rioubos. His Eminence Cardinal XimÉnÈs himself pronounced the nuptial blessing.

DoÑa Syrena. Naturally! DoÑa Joana is his god-daughter.

DoÑa Rufina. The city seems to me very gay.

DoÑa Fabia. Compared with it ordinarily.

Ramiro. Yes, all day they have had on the Plaza del Zocodover entertainments by jugglers, buffoons, dancers and monstrous African monkeys!

Don Ambrosio. (An old cavalier sitting in an arm-chair) Yes, at this moment there is singing and dancing in all the public places.

DoÑa Syrena. Among us, this marriage was a long time postponed.

DoÑa Fabia. Yes—they were betrothed five years.

Ramiro. Pardon me, SeÑoras. When Don Enrique’s father—the Lord Palacios—felt that he could not live much longer he decided to select a wife for his son’s future marriage. He and the Governor made an arrangement whereby Don Enrique and DoÑa Joana were affianced. As DoÑa Joana was then only ten years old, her father made her go to the convent to grow up!

DoÑa Rufina. They say she became so devout they believed she would never come out.

DoÑa Syrena. She did not have a radiant air in the church—the bride!

Rioubos. No more than did Enrique.

Cristobol. There was one radiant person—the Governor!

Velasco. (Unexpectedly) Undoubtedly because his daughter did not take the veil!

Ramiro. (To Velasco) What! are you here, Velasco?—I believed you were in Alpujarras, chasing the Moors.

Velasco. (Bowing to the women) I was, in a way; but I have returned for this fÊte.

Don Ambrosio. Have they not yet taught these rebels to be reasonable?

Velasco. They have retreated into inaccessible places where it is impossible to follow them.

Don Ambrosio. They are chasing these pagans too long.

Ramiro. Not now, Don Ambrosio. His Eminence and the Governor are after them with the hand of death.

Don Ambrosio. Then, Ramiro, you will see the advantages of severe treatment. Within six months thousands of Moors will be converted.

Murmurs of satisfaction. The music ceases.

Cardenos. That is a mere farce, my Lord Ambrosio! (Gravely) These new Christians are liars—they go to mass, only to laugh when they come away. They themselves confess of avowing only to silly things. When their children are baptized, they wash them quickly to cleanse them of what they call the pollution of the blessed holy oil. (Murmurs of indignation) Their daughters are married at our altars, dressed as Christians, but when they reËnter their homes they dress themselves as Moors—and celebrate their nuptials with dances and forbidden Arabian songs, such as the zambra, to the music of tambourines, trumpet-shells, cymbals and other instruments also forbidden!

DoÑa Rufina. For my part, I can overlook the zambra and the tambourine, but I strongly approve prohibiting Moorish women from dyeing their eyebrows and eyelashes. They are bold enough looking without that.

DoÑa Syrena. Oh, my! I think the most admirable royal edict is the one which provides the penalty of execution for any intimacy between a Spaniard and a Mooress—for there are truly beautiful girls in the homes of these Africans, and you are not too little inclined, my lords, to perceive them.

Rioubos. And for my part, SeÑora, I strongly approve of the edict which punishes with solitary confinement in a dungeon any Spanish woman who loves one of these blacks to whose beauty you are not always indifferent.

DoÑa Syrena. (Quickly) Oh! but that is all the more excusable.

Laughter and exclamations.

DoÑa Rufina. (Quickly) Ah, my dear, what did you say then?

DoÑa Syrena. (A little confused by her blunder) You see!—Yes!—The circumstances are very different.

The same sounds of laughter.

Ramiro. Ah! see, I beg of you, SeÑora—see the difference!

DoÑa Syrena. What!—If the intrigue has results, is it not so?

All. Yes!

Ramiro. A child!

DoÑa Syrena. In the first case, the mother being Moorish the child is a little Mussulman—in the second case, where the mother is Spanish, it is a little Christian!—Dear angel!—And there are never too many of those!

All. (Laughing in approval) Oh! very good! Very ingenious! Charming!

Three trumpet calls are sounded in the banquet room.

DoÑa Rufina. The banquet is ended. (She rises.)

DoÑa Syrena. They are going to drink to the healths of the newly married ones!

All rise. Shouts and acclamations in the hall, followed by very sweet music. All the guests come out, those in front turning to look into the banquet hall. Fatoum appears on the pavement, while valets distribute flowers among the assistants.

Scene Two

The same, Fatoum and Zoraya

Zoraya, veiled, cautiously enters unnoticed from the street and goes to the middle of the foreground. While getting her bearings, she sees Fatoum on the landing-place and goes toward her, raising her veil.

Zoraya. Fatoum!

Fatoum. Ah! Zoraya!

Zoraya. (Imposing silence with a gesture) Yes!—I concluded that results would be surer if I repeated the mesmeric treatment which I gave Joana this morning.

Fatoum. Oh! I am grateful to you! You have arrived at an opportune time! It is the end of the banquet. They are now offering congratulations. Joana is about to enter her apartment. You will pass for one of the new servant women whom I have chosen!

She points to the landing-place of the right stairway and leads her to it.

Zoraya. Ah! it is there?

Fatoum. Yes, where the windows are lighted.

Zoraya. (Looking about) And he!—Where is he?

Fatoum. He?

Zoraya. The husband!

Fatoum. In the large chamber waiting for the poor child to be put to bed.

Zoraya stops on the stairway an instant to turn towards the banquet hall, then follows Fatoum.

Scene Three

The same without Zoraya and Fatoum. Afterward DoÑa Joana and her women, Cleofas

While dance music is being played, the great double door of the chamber is thrown open—the guests crowd to the windows. The women arrange themselves at the left of the patio, the men at the right. DoÑa Joana comes out of the chamber, followed by her female attendants. As she descends, she is saluted by the women, who make courtesies before her, and by the cavaliers, who bow. Each, at the moment she passes, throws a flower at her feet and murmurs a wish for happiness.

DoÑa Syrena. Joy and health, SeÑora!

DoÑa Rufina. Be happy, DoÑa Joana!

DoÑa Serafina. Everlasting happiness, SeÑora!

The Cavaliers. Our best wishes, SeÑora!

DoÑa Joana thanks them as she descends into the foreground and goes up the steps leading to her apartment. The women watch her and bow reverently as she stops on the threshold to look at them before entering the room. Fatoum is waiting for her. The music stops when they enter.

DoÑa Fabia. (At the left with DoÑa Rufina and DoÑa Syrena, after Joana disappears) She is pale, the dear!

DoÑa Rufina. (Giggling) With emotion!

DoÑa Syrena. They create such false ideas about a moment like that!

DoÑa Rufina. And exaggerate them so!

They group themselves, seated, near the right column. After the procession has passed, Cleofas descends at the right, talking with Ramiro and Cristobol. The guests disperse in the patio, sitting or standing. There is a murmur of confused voices.

Cleofas. Whew!—it is warm in that chamber!

DoÑa Syrena. (To DoÑa Fabia in a low voice) Especially after they have emptied all the flagons!

DoÑa Rufina. (To Cleofas) Cleofas would have done well had he given the bride some comforting elixir.

Cleofas. (Gaily) Oh, yes! Those nuns have pictured marriage to her as something horrible!

DoÑa Rufina. The poor little child has had no one to give her a mother’s care.

Ramiro. Oh, yes!—there is Fatoum, the convert, who has brought her up.

Don Ambrosio. And, speaking of converts, Master Cleofas, the Very Holy Inquisition, of which you are the physician, seems to me to be enjoying a very long moment of leisure.

Cleofas. (With satisfaction) Oh, oh! the Tribunal is not out of work. And, after a short time, I believe that I may promise these ladies a very jolly bonfire.

Murmurs of satisfaction.

DoÑa Syrena. Of heretics?

Cleofas. Of heretics. Moors, Jews, renegades and backsliders—a sample of each.

DoÑa Rufina. And of sorcerers?

Cleofas. Of sorcerers and sorceresses, also—but fewer in number than is desirable.

Cardenos. (To Cleofas in a low voice) Master Cleofas, I should like to say two words to you in that regard.

Cleofas. At Your Grace’s disposition!

He goes to the left of the scene, followed by Cristobol, Rioubos and Ramiro, who surround him.

Cardenos. You have not forgotten an Arabian physician named Abou-Abassa?

Cleofas. A physician!—said to be a charlatan, who resided on the left bank of the river in a house on the hillside, where his daughter now lives.

Cardenos. Zoraya!

Cleofas. Oh, yes! I knew him!—I was enraged to see Bishop Talavera honor and protect a Moor, who had, they say, healed a sprain with friction—in reality, Cardenos, by means of mystic signs and magic incantations.

Cardenos. Then you are sure that man was——

Cleofas. A necromancer! And worse than that! Listen and judge, friend Cardenos! (He seats himself) One day I was riding my mule on the road leading to the bridge of San Martino. They called to me to examine a child which had been taken from the river apparently dead. “Have you,” I asked, dismounting, “suspended it by the feet in order to expel the water from the body? ‘Yes, lord’—And that has not resulted in resuscitation?—‘No, lord’—Then, there is nothing more to do. Good evening!”—And I passed on—The child was dead, was it not?

Cardenos and the Young Men. Yes!

Cleofas. Eight days later I re-passed the same place and whom do you think I saw playing on the rocks with a gang of ragamuffins?—Who?—My drowned child!

All. Oh!

Cleofas. Astounded, I questioned the child and found that after I left they had recourse to that quack, Abou-Abassa, who had breathed in the child’s mouth, made strange motions with its arms and succeeded in reanimating him after an hour and one half!—The magic was shown in the breathing and gestures and in this diabolical resurrection, which was an ignoble parody on the miracles in the Scriptures!

Cardenos. It is the same evidence.

Cleofas. The wretch is dead!—But, his daughter, who has been devoted to the works of the devil since her birth, interferes just as he did with the treatment of my patients: even with my own governor, PÉtronille, whom I attended after fainting spells. I gave him hartshorn, which, you know, is the best cure for such illnesses, as is also the oil of ants and the salt of wood-lice—what is it they call this Olivera—whom they have given me for a colleague in the Tribunal?

Cardenos. The surgeon?

Cleofas. Yes, this ignoramus goes so far as to make sport of the inclusion of pearls and precious stones in our remedies; as if it were not proved every day that sapphires are the principal cures for ulcers, and emeralds infallible preventatives of pests!

He rises.

Cardenos. Assuredly!

Cleofas. Between us, this Olivera is to be watched, Cardenos—I am sure he believes more in the devil and witches than he does in medicine.

Cardenos. What is your reason?

Cleofas. Oh! nothing—He smells of it and I advise you to watch him—I said then—where was I?

Cardenos. You spoke of PÉtronille.

Cleofas. Ah! yes, my governor! Do you believe that this wretch would, without consulting me, let himself be conducted to Zoraya’s home? Seeing him lively and apparently cured, I said: “Ha, my hartshorn powders?”—“No such thing!” he replied. “It was not your powders—it was a remedy which the Moorish woman gave me!—Swindler! pick up your packets and leave at once.”—It is better for me to work myself to death giving my own remedies than to deceive patients with the kinds which she uses!

Cardenos. Certainly!—if it is magic——

Cleofas. It is magic, Cardenos, do not doubt it. This sorceress is competing with me dishonestly. This is not all—she takes no pay from the poor for her attention or her medicines. And will you believe me when I tell you that she sends them away with their hands full of gold?—We shall have to struggle now!—Our practise is being ruined.

Cardenos. Your Honor may be reassured—they have an eye on her.

An agent of the Inquisition, dressed in black, enters from the street.

The Agent. (Going to them) Lord Cardenos, His Eminence prays you to come without delay, for urgent business.

Cardenos. I shall come at once!—This, Master Cleofas, may have something to do with your Mooress.

Cleofas. Good! Good!

Cardenos and the man go into the street. They play a saraband in the banquet hall.

Scene Four

The same, Don Enrique, Lopez de Padilla, guests, men and women, etc.

Don Enrique, accompanied by Lopez de Padilla and other cavaliers and gentlemen, descends from the banquet chamber in the midst of an uproar of congratulations and salutations, the cavaliers kissing the hands of the women. The guests begin to disperse. Most of them go out of the door into the street; others go out at the left. There is laughter as they go away.

DoÑa Rufina, DoÑa Fabia and DoÑa Syrena. (To Enrique, laughing and making courtesies) Good night, my lord.

He conducts them to the door opening on the street. Returning, he finds Padilla and some friends. Meanwhile the servants put out the lanterns and the patio is lighted only by the moon.

Padilla. (Surrounded by the men, to Enrique) The only thing which marred this feast, Don Enrique, was the absence of your father, whom we needed.

Enrique. It was the fulfillment of his dearest wish and I thank Your Excellency.

Padilla. I have bestowed upon you, my child, all of the esteem and affection which I had for the dear companion-in-arms of my youth. I have placed in your care what is dearest to me in this world with the assurance that you will be a tender husband to my adored daughter.

Enrique. And to you, my lord (he kisses his hand) a most respectful son.

Padilla. (To the others) Then, gentlemen, it is time for such graybeards as we to leave this impatient youth.—Until tomorrow, my child!

Enrique. Until tomorrow, my father!

While the valets are closing the street door on the last departing guests, Padilla and the other gentlemen go towards the left door, accompanied to the threshold by Enrique. Joana’s women attendants descend the stairway, cross the patio and leave by the door at the right. They meet Enrique coming up. He descends and receives their salutes as they pass, turning toward the stairway to re-ascend after they have disappeared. At that moment all is dark, except the vestibule, the landing-place and the right window. While the women are going out, Zoraya comes out of the vestibule, stops on the landing-place to assure herself that the patio is vacant and motionless awaits Enrique.

Scene Five

Zoraya, Enrique

This scene follows the last sounds of laughter, conversation and music.

Enrique. (Stopping at the foot of the stairway on seeing Zoraya veiled) Who are you, woman, and why do you not leave with the others? (Zoraya is silent.) Do you not hear me?—Who are you?

Zoraya. (Raising her veil) I am the sorrow and you are the traitor!

Enrique. (Recoiling) Zoraya!

Zoraya. You have forgotten, have you not, to invite me to this feast?

Enrique. (Looking about uneasily) You! here—in this house!

Zoraya. In your wife’s home, yes.

Enrique. To tell her——

Zoraya. (Sorrowfully) Ah! you wretch! Your only thought is for her. My despair does not move you so much as the fear that she will not accept the lover of a Saracen!

Enrique. (Uneasily) Lower! Speak lower! I beg of you!

Zoraya. (Without listening) You are not so innocent as you were on the steps of the church——

Enrique. You were there!

Zoraya. It was to the entire city that I failed to cry: “That Christian is my lover!” But that cry would have sent you to the King’s galleys. My heart failed me and coward that I am, I was ready to flee, weeping.

Enrique. Do not condemn me without hearing me!

Zoraya. Oh, God!—you, you, who this morning—Oh, God! God! Is it possible?

She falls seated at the foot of the column.

Enrique. My Zoraya, my mistake, mine alone for not telling you the first day——

Zoraya. Do you love this girl?

Enrique. Ah! certainly, no!—I was forced——

Zoraya. You betrayed me for her?

Enrique. It is she whom I have betrayed for you!—I have known you only three months. She and I were betrothed years ago!—But I was so sure she would take the veil and remain in the convent. After this marriage was arranged contrary to her wish and my own, I found so many pretexts for postponing it that further delay would have roused suspicion. They would have searched for the reason and found it, perhaps. Then!—then, during the last two days when I did not see you, I resolved to confess all to you.—This morning I attempted to tell you—But I saw you so roused over a single thought of another woman that I did not have the courage to cause a scene and withstand your reproaches, which would have been needless, as I could not let your tears cause me to forget my solemn obligations as a Christian, my word as a gentleman and my most sacred duties.

Zoraya. Yes! All of your duties are sacred except those towards me!—and you hope, do you not, that I have considered them as fulfilled?

Enrique. Yes!

Zoraya. That I shall receive your return to me with open arms?

Enrique. That you will pardon me, at least, and join me in returning faithfully to our love.

Zoraya. Oh, indeed!—More in love than ever! The contrast of the Moor and the Spaniard! A variety of pleasures always prevents one’s taste from becoming stale!

Enrique. (Seating himself near her) But I do not love this child!—I do not love her!

Zoraya. (Rising, going to the left) Yes, this is the cry of the brutal, egotistical male!—You do not love her!—But it is to her that you sacrifice me.—You do not love her, but I stop you on the threshold of her room!—A few paces from her bed!—I should scorn myself as a woman of the street if I could discover in my mind a single thought which is not for you!—I should curse my eyes if they gazed for an instant on any other face but yours!—Where could I wash away the stain if any other lips than yours touched mine?—And it appears natural for you to be at the same time the husband of your wife and the lover of your mistress—to run from one to the other and to bring to me smiling the dessert of your nuptial night!—And it is you who say to me: “Believe nothing, nothing in the world but my love for you!” Ah, coward!—coward! liar!—Here is your love!—Here it is!

Enrique. (Standing) My dear Zoraya!

Zoraya. (Quickly, restraining her tears) Oh, leave me! Wretch! Leave me! I hate you!

She leans sobbing against a pillar at the left.

Enrique. Lower! Speak lower!—I beg of you!—If they should hear us!

Zoraya. Oh! If only they would hear!—Let them come! and let them kill me!—It is all the same to me if it happens now!

They hear the night watchman’s halbert striking the pavement stones.

Enrique. (Frightened and pointing to the street) Be quiet!—There is some one there!

The Watchman. (Outside, passing the door and chanting) Ave, Maria!——

Enrique. (In a low voice) It is the watchman.

The Watchman. It is the sixth hour!—I am the watchman!

He passes.

Enrique. He has passed! (He goes to the steps and listens) But here, these windows!—the valets!—(Scrutinizing the right vestibule) And Joana!

Zoraya. Your wife!—It is not she who can hear us!

Enrique. (Frightened) What did you say?

Zoraya. (Standing motionless) Go, and find out for yourself.

Enrique goes up the steps and enters the room.

The Watchman. (In the distance) Ave, Maria!

Enrique. (In the chamber) Joana! Joana!

The Watchman. (Farther away) It is the sixth hour.

Enrique. (With the same voice) Joana!

The Watchman. (Faintly in the distance) I am the watchman!

Enrique. (Coming out of the room and standing frightened at the end of the stairway) Ah, wretch!—It is you who did it?

Zoraya. Yes! It is I!

Enrique. (Descending the stairs rapidly) You have killed her?

Zoraya. Poor child!—She is asleep!

Enrique. (Going to Zoraya) I spoke to her—she heard nothing. I raised her—she fell back cold.

Zoraya. She is asleep, I tell you.

Enrique. What power do you possess which will produce a sleep like death?

Zoraya. What does it matter so long as this is only the appearance of death!—She will sleep until the hour which I have set for her to awaken.—And this is your punishment: when she awakens she will be deaf to your voice, also distant and cold in your arms!—You will then understand that your true wife was not this angelic creature who wanted no other spouse than God, but the Moor, who gave you more love in a single clasp of her hand than this nun in the entire abandonment of her nerveless body, revolting at your caresses.

Enrique. (At her feet) What does it matter to me?—I shall not dispute with that virgin over her celestial spouse. And I shall be free for you, for you alone, without causing her grief, or me remorse.

Zoraya. (Drawing away) I do not care to put you to the test!

Enrique. You intend to leave?

Zoraya. Yes.

Enrique. Alone—tonight?

Zoraya. I intend to leave Toledo before dawn.

Enrique. To leave Toledo?

Zoraya. Ah! God, yes!—this accursed city which has nothing but sorrow and peril for me!

Enrique. (Barring her exit at the door) What! It is absurd—you shall not go!

Zoraya. You would prefer to deliver me to the Inquisition?

Enrique. Ah! How unworthy!

Zoraya. They are seeking for me—tonight, perhaps.

Enrique. And where are you going, poor child?

Zoraya. Into the Sierra, by paths known only to us, to the homes of the rebels. Later I shall go to Africa and find refuge in my father’s brother’s home in Tangier.

Enrique. And there will be between us the mountains, the rivers and the sea!—And shall we always be apart, the one from the other?

Zoraya. You are the one who wishes it.

Enrique. No, I do not wish it—Give up your home!—It is wise—But Toledo!—I know where I can find a refuge for you, which is free from danger.

Zoraya. For instance, your wife’s home!

Enrique. Ah! always she!

Zoraya. Yes! always she between us!—Always, always she!

Enrique. Neither she nor any person—No one in this world!

Zoraya. Do you say so truly?

Enrique. Before God!

Zoraya. You love so much as that?

Enrique. Yes!

Zoraya. You will sacrifice all for me!——

Enrique. Yes!

Zoraya. (In his arms) Then! Come with me?

Enrique. (Thrilled) To the home of your kindred?

Zoraya. They will receive you as a brother!

Enrique. Me? A Spaniard—an enemy?

Zoraya. As my lover!

Enrique. With the rebels, me, a soldier?—Disclaim my king?

Zoraya. A tyrant!

Enrique. My God?

Zoraya. He is for every one.

Enrique. And an exile—forever an exile from my country?

Zoraya. My own country is the country where we may love.

Enrique. No, do not say so! It is a crime to listen to your words.

Zoraya. My adored Enrique!

Enrique. Deserter! renegade! perjurer. Traitor to all my duties for all time! Never! even for you! Never! Never!

Zoraya. Stay then, coward, who has caused me to lose everything!

Enrique. Zoraya!

Zoraya. Go—return to your wife!

She opens the street door quickly to go out and recoils on seeing Cardenos standing motionless on the threshold.

Scene Six

The same persons, Cardenos

Zoraya. (Frightened) Cardenos!

She goes to the left.

Enrique. Cardenos here!—at this hour!

Cardenos. (Entering) I am not more surprised to see you myself, Don Enrique, than to find you in such company.

Enrique. (Who places himself quickly between Cardenos and the door, which he fastens) Is that advice, or a threat?

Cardenos. (Coldly) Neither one nor the other!—I am here by order of the Holy-Office to arrest this woman (movement by Enrique to rejoin and protect Zoraya) who practises sorcery.

Zoraya. That is false!

Enrique. Foolishness!

Cardenos. You seem to have forgotten the punishment in store for a crime like yours.

Enrique. You are presumptuous!

Cardenos. (Continuing coldly) His Eminence, knowing that this woman was seen to enter this house without coming out, entrusted me with the task of watching at this door to arrest her without noise when she came out and at the same time unknown to you.

Enrique. His Eminence had foreseen that I would not let you do it!

Cardenos. He has only foreseen your submission and confession for the care which he has taken—out of regard for your name, your rank, and your young wife, his pupil—to separate your case from that of your accomplice, and inflict upon you only a penance which will reconcile you with the Church!

Zoraya. (Quickly) Ah! if that is so, good—I will go with you!

Enrique. (Violently obstructing her passage) Are you foolish? (To Cardenos.) Go tell XimÉnÈs that he has no right to my confession unless he provides the same indulgence for her whom he calls my accomplice.

Cardenos. You shall say it to him yourself, SeÑor Enrique. (To Zoraya) Come, you!—Follow me!

Enrique. (Stopping Zoraya) By God! This is insolence!

Zoraya. Enrique!

Enrique. Silence! (To Cardenos) And you—get out of here!

Cardenos. Be careful that you do not render indulgence for yourself impossible!

Enrique. That is my own affair!

Cardenos. And you would lose it for nothing!

Zoraya. He has a reason!—Let me go!

Enrique. (Sharply to Cardenos) Are you not going?

Cardenos. I beg of you, my lord, to listen to the prayer of a man as old as your father, and who has known you since you were a child.

Enrique. During that time you should have learned a better profession than the one you are now engaged in.

Cardenos. He would say the same to you.

Enrique. He can blaspheme me if I have the infamy to deliver up the woman whom I love.—And I would deserve the insults of all the scullions of the city!

Zoraya. No! No! (To Cardenos) Do not listen to him. Take me away.

Cardenos places his hand on her.

Enrique. (Stepping between them) Scoundrel! Do not touch this woman!

Cardenos. Do you refuse to let her go?

Enrique. I dare to say yes.

Cardenos. If there is a disturbance and a scandal it will be only because you have wanted it!

He turns to go out. Enrique steps forward between him and the door, putting his hand on his shoulder.

Enrique. Where are you going?

Cardenos. Where I please.

Enrique. To bring your men?

Cardenos. You compel me to do so.

Enrique. You shall not go!—You shall not call them!

Zoraya. Ah! My God!

Cardenos. (Withdrawing to the center of the patio) Then, there are our special valets who shall help me!

Enrique. (The same) You venturesome ruffian!

Cardenos. Let me go!

Enrique. No!

Cardenos. I shall call my men!

Enrique. I defy you to do so!

Cardenos. Help!

Enrique. (Leaping upon him) Silence!

Cardenos. (Drawing his dagger) Help!

Enrique. (Snatching it from him. He seizes Cardenos by the wrists and throws him to the ground) Silence! Silence!

Cardenos. Help!

Enrique. (Seizing his throat) You will be silent, demon!

Cardenos, suffocated, beats the air with his hands, then falls strangled at the right of the steps.

Zoraya. (Leaping towards him) Ah! unfortunate man! What have you done?

Enrique. (Infuriated, stoops over Cardenos) What?—What have I done to him?

Zoraya. (Raising his head) He is dead!

Enrique. (Frightened) No!

Zoraya. See! He is dead, I tell you! See! He is dead! He is dead!

She lets Cardenos’ arms fall back.

Enrique. Is it possible!

Zoraya. (Turning her eyes to the foot of the stage) Be quiet!

They see a lantern passing from one window to another, followed by the sound of the opening of the middle window. Frightened, Zoraya and Enrique seek refuge on the little stairway, hiding behind a column and clumps of flowers.

Ramiro. (Half-clad at the window, leaning in) Hello! Some one called!—Who is there? (They hear another window opened opposite the first one) Is that you, GinÈs?

GinÈs. (Invisible) Yes, master!

Ramiro. Did you hear that disturbance—those shouts?

GinÈs. Yes!—They were calls for aid!

Ramiro. Was it in this house?

GinÈs. More likely in the street—those belated drunkards!

Ramiro. Dress yourself, awaken Padillo.—We shall see!

He disappears, fastening the window.

Zoraya. (Frightened, rising suddenly, in a low voice) They have gone!

Enrique. Except you, no one has seen me and none can accuse me!

Zoraya. That is folly!—A man comes to arrest me—who should kill him but you?

Enrique. It is true!—Ah! God, God! Assassin!—Me! me!

Zoraya. Do not become excited or lament. What is done is done. We shall not await them, shall we?

Enrique. Go then!

Zoraya. Alone?

Enrique. Go, Zoraya.

Zoraya. Without you—No!

Enrique. Merciful Heaven! What course shall we take?

Zoraya. Flight!

Enrique. And where shall we fly to?

Zoraya. Where I told you!

Enrique. It is dishonorable and my life will be lost!

Zoraya. Remain! Then you will lose it more quickly!—Come! Come on!—Come!—Come! (She runs to the street door and opens it. They hear sounds of voices outside and the scraping of guitars. She quickly fastens the door.) The musicians!

Enrique. In the street?

Zoraya. (Despairingly) If they have come to give the morning serenade, it is for us.

They listen anxiously. The musicians draw near, conversing and laughing, while thumbing their strings.

A Musician. Shall we serenade Don Enrique Palacios?

Zoraya makes a movement of fright.

Another. Simpleton!—He cares much for your music at this moment!

Laughter.

Another. Besides, they did not pay us for serenading him!

Approbations. Enrique anxiously watches the house from the foot.

The Other. (Farther away) Come, then! Laggards!—Not there, but in the other street.

All. Yes! Coming, coming!

They go away making the same sounds with which they came. Enrique goes toward the foot listening for the valets’ return.

Zoraya. (Opening the door cautiously and looking into the street) They are going farther away.—They have gone round the corner of the house. (Shortly afterward they hear the distant serenade, a voice singing:)

(Zoraya opens the door and looks relieved) The street is clear. Come quickly! (Seeing Enrique, who is searching for something on the floor) Good God! what are you searching for?

Enrique. His dagger, which he dropped.

He picks it up and runs to the door.

Zoraya. (Taking him in her arms) Ah! yes, yes!—Should they arrest us, you will kill me!

Enrique. Yes, and myself afterward!

Zoraya. (Seeing a light at the door of the ground floor, at the foot) Their voices! Quickly, come quickly!

She and Enrique hurry out. At the same time the door opens and Ramiro quickly enters with two valets, one of whom carries a lantern. Ramiro sees the body of Cardenos, snatches the lantern from the valets hands and looks at the dead mans face.

All the Three. Cardenos!

One of the valets, seeing the street door open, runs to it and looks into the street. The other joins him and they spring out, running away and shouting: “Stop those assassins! Stop them! Arrest them!” During this part of the scene, which is very rapid, the serenade continues.

(Curtain)