Scene—A Moorish chamber with three arches. Beyond is seen a garden similar to that of the Generalife of Granada, with a fountain and a narrow canal bordered with trimmed yew trees and pots of red sandstone containing flowers. The arch at the right gives access to a terrace beyond which Toledo rises in the distance beneath a burning sunlight. At the right of the arcade is the entrance to Zoraya’s sleeping chamber. On the same side is a small door. In contrast with the spreading blue of the heavens and the great heat on the fields and garden, the room conveys an impression of coolness. On the floor are tiles laid in mosaic. In the center of the scene is an elaborate fountain basin surrounded with cushions. On the ceiling are beams and panels of cedar. To a height of about six feet, an ivory-colored border surmounted with a blue earthenware moulding extends about the room. The three arches are closed at will with heavy and rich portiÈres. To the right is a little low table inlaid with ivory and nacre. There are several cushions on it. Against the wall stands an Arabian coffer. Here and there are large Moresque vases containing palms and bouquets of flowers. It is morning. There are sounds of distant bells, which shortly cease to ring.

Scene One

Aisha, Zaguir

Aisha draws open the curtains in the right arch. Zaguir appears at the foot in the garden and cautiously calls Aisha.

Zaguir. My aunt!—My aunt!

Aisha. (In an undertone, turning) What?—Who?—Who is calling me out there?

Zaguir. (In the same voice) I have something important to tell you while the mistress is still here.

Aisha. Something serious?

Zaguir. Yes.

Aisha. Then come in and speak quickly. (Zaguir goes toward her) What is it?

Zaguir. Here!—last night at sunset, I saw sitting and conversing near the path which leads down toward the bridge of San Martino, perhaps a hundred paces or more from this house, two men who were not mere passers-by, or residents of this neighborhood. When the sun rose this morning they were still there, lying behind some fig trees, as if they had passed the night in watching.

Aisha. (Disturbed) The same!—you are positive?

Zaguir. Positive!—They are still there. You can see them. (They cautiously go to the terrace at right) Stop! they are standing at present.

Aisha. There are three of them!

Zaguir. Yes!—the one with the grizzled beard was not there. He has just arrived.

Aisha. Be careful in returning. (She returns to the center of the scene.)

Zaguir. (The same) As they have been there since last evening, it must be that they are lying in wait for some one.

Aisha. And whom?

Zaguir. (With embarrassment) Perhaps those who come at night and return at dawn.

Aisha. (Severely) What did you say?

Zaguir. (Quickly) Don’t be angry—I am only warning you! Otherwise, I should have said nothing.

Aisha. And what do you know, naughty boy?

Zaguir. Only the worst of things. For example, that he comes down the slope and enters through the orchard gate, which has a key; that he steals along in the shadow of the arcades until he reaches here and that he goes away in a similar manner—on foot as he comes, without entrusting to us his horse.

Aisha. Above all you have not mentioned this?

Zaguir. Indeed to no person!—it is serious!

Aisha. He is a Moor, a refugee in the Sierra, a rebel who comes secretly to obtain medicine for his wife who is ill.

Zaguir. Poor woman!—to consume all the remedies which he has obtained every night during two months!

Aisha. You presumptuous boy!

Zaguir. Do not call me after all kinds of beasts, auntie dear! I don’t ask you who this unknown is; he concerns me not. But I know truly that I should be cut in pieces before I would whisper a word. You may tell your mistress that!

Aisha. Allah protect me! I shall not tell her that you know.

Zaguir. As you wish! But whisper to her that they are watching her house. (The bells again begin to ring.)

Aisha. And in vain for two days.

Zaguir. Yes, fortunately!—He did not come last night, or the night before.

Aisha. And Zoraya is worried enough!—Go, thou!—Quickly!—I hear her!

Zaguir is going out when Zoraya appears, parting the portiÈres at the left.

The same persons, Zoraya

Zoraya. (Without seeing Zaguir, to Aisha) Who is here with you?

Aisha. Zaguir, who has no right to be here!—but he has a good excuse—since yesterday he has seen men prowling round the house. (She points to the right, Zoraya crosses the scene and goes to the window.)

Zaguir. They have passed the night under the fig trees.

Aisha. (To Zoraya) On the hillside—look! Ah! They are going away—do you see them?

Zoraya. Yes!—They are going down to the bridge. (To Zaguir) Follow them!

Zaguir. As far as the city?

Zoraya. All about the city—and see where they stop.

Zaguir. Yes, mistress!

Zoraya. Go! Go!

Zaguir leaves, running.

Scene Three

Zoraya, Aisha

Zoraya. (At the window, constantly looking out) Why are those bells ringing on this beautiful morning?—Is there some Christian festival today?

Aisha. I know of none.

Zoraya. (ReËntering the scene) After waiting for him all night I finally fell asleep. They awakened me and I heard your voice. I believed he was there, and I nearly betrayed myself by calling his name in the boy’s presence.

Aisha. We must continue hoping that Don Enrique will come tonight.

Zoraya. Two nights without seeing him!—And no word from him—what torture! And those bad dreams! Give me the spotted cards.

Aisha brings a pack of cards which she lays out on the little table. The sound of the bells gradually dies out.

Aisha. He has probably been warned of the presence of those men.

Zoraya. Last night, yes—But the night before—did Zaguir see them then?

Aisha. No.

Zoraya. (Constantly occupied in arranging the cards) Then it was something else.

Aisha. Perhaps some sudden duty?

Zoraya. Doubtful! He is free! He has no father, no mother, no wife, no children!

Aisha. He commands the archers, the blunderbuss men and the cross-bowmen of the city. He may be detained by the service.

Zoraya. For two days?

Aisha. He is a member of the Council of Castile, which may have been summoned to Aranjuez where the king is sojourning.

Zoraya. Yes, possibly that is so!—Ah! if only we had some means of secretly writing to each other!

Aisha. Allah protect us! That would be a quicker way of losing ourselves!—we are threatened often enough, now!

Zoraya. Ah! (She raises a card.)

Aisha. What?

Zoraya. The Cavalier of the Sword—now I am beginning to detect the cause!

Aisha. You see!—I thought until this minute that we should not be left long in security! You had decided to do as the others advised and flee to the coast of Africa to escape the persecutions of the Nazarenes! Then, it was necessary to meet this man! Ah! misery upon us! Ever since the time when he unexpectedly appeared while we were breathing the evening breeze on the hill and when you so foolishly threw yourself into his arms, I have believed that I hear the black wings of Azrael, the angel of death, brushing the roof of our house!

Zoraya. “Our Destiny,” says the Prophet, “is suspended from our necks”—If it is written that I shall die for Enrique, then I may likewise wish that it should be in his arms!

Aisha. Oh! my daughter, you who were so chaste in your widowhood, why are you enamored with this infidel, this enemy of the true God?

Zoraya. Do you know how and why I love him? I was at his mercy! A word, and he could have thrown me into the dungeons of the Inquisition. It was good of him to save my honor, a price which they always extort from our other women. I will risk anything for him. Those men were there to act as my safeguards during the night. I shall wait for an opportune time and flee to Toledo before evening!

Aisha. Rain of Heaven!

Zoraya. But what weakness is ours! He is young, he is generous in his love, his gaze is tender!—when he liberated me, I could dream no more of fleeing.

Aisha. Alas!

Zoraya. (Returning to the cards) Ah! “The King!”—A powerful enemy!

Aisha. You see! You see!

Zoraya. Sh——.

Aisha. What?

Zoraya. I believe I hear him.

Aisha. No!

Zoraya. Besides, he would not come before night!

Aisha. Ah! I hope he will not come this evening—and never again!

Zoraya. Silence! You wretch! Do you want me to die of sorrow?

Aisha. That would be better than being buried alive in an oubliette as poor Kalem’s accomplice and for a crime similar to his!

Zoraya. I should die first!

Aisha. Allah! Allah! listen to her—Where is there a love that has made any one reasonable! All these nights I have been there, I, cowering on my couch waiting and listening and trembling at the least noise. And you can be happy—you—with such a menace hanging over you!—What folly!

Zoraya. (Rising and putting away the cards) You do not understand anything, poor Aisha! To love without peril is beautiful—it is the common kind of love. But the kind that is outlawed, accursed and condemned at its beginning—the love that braves all perils, that defies death, that brings the bitter-sweet of forbidden kisses and maddening embraces during which it is said, “This may be the last!”—that is love!—that is love!

Aisha. (Groaning) Ah!

Zoraya. Be silent! This time it is his step. (She runs to the door at the left and opens it) It is he!—Ah! it is he!—It is he!

Enrique appears on the threshold of the little door.

Zoraya. Finally—Ah! God!—At last! at last! (To Aisha as she passes Enrique to fasten the little door) Watch carefully. (After fastening the draperies, Aisha goes into the garden.)

Scene Four

Zoraya, Enrique

Zoraya. (To Enrique) Your heart beats!—You have been running?

Enrique. Yes!

Zoraya. They have pursued you?

Enrique. (Removing his mantle) No!

Zoraya. And on the road, did you see no one?

Enrique. Not one person! (He places on the stool his mantle, his hat and his sword.) I did not come by way of the bridge, but by the path up the hillside after crossing the river in a boat.

Zoraya. (Seated on the cushions) In daylight! What imprudence! And instead of coming last night when I waited so anxiously for you!

Enrique. I, too, have had occasion to think of that!—When I left you at dawn the day before yesterday I saw standing at the end of the bridge a man whom I knew had no ordinary reason for being there at that hour. I passed him quickly, covering myself closely with my cloak. He followed me, but I reached my residence after throwing him off my trail in an alley.

Zoraya. He followed you?—You are certain?

Enrique. Absolutely certain. It was to baffle him that I forced myself to remain away from you last night and the night before and that I crossed the river in a boat, below the Mirador.

Zoraya. Yes! (Rising) Oh! it is clear now! It is well for you that they watched only at night.

Enrique. And why?

Zoraya. The men watched there behind those fig trees. (He goes toward the terrace.) No!—they have gone away, thinking it useless to watch for you in the daytime.

Enrique. How many?

Zoraya. Three. One of them seemed to be the chief.

Enrique. Did he have a small, grizzly beard?

Zoraya. Yes.

Enrique. (Eagerly) It was he who spied upon me. I believe I recognize him! (Seats himself at right on the fountain basin.) It is Cardenos, one of my father’s old soldiers, but now an agent of the Holy Office and a religious bigot!

Zoraya. (At his right, standing) Then! he has recognized you!

Enrique. I doubt it. He would hardly wait one day. He knows only that you are receiving some unknown person in the night. If I were suspected they would prowl round my house and I have seen nothing of them—At least, whatever there is in this, we must be on guard.

Zoraya. Oh, yes!

Enrique. And for the sake of prudence give up seeing each other.

Zoraya. For several days—surely.

Enrique. Say—some weeks.

Zoraya. (Protesting) Several weeks?

Enrique. It is the only way to stop them from spying upon us.

Zoraya. Several weeks!—without seeing each other?

Enrique. My Zoraya, you must resign yourself to it.

Zoraya. Resign myself!—Oh, resignation is easy for you! Our love is not the only affair of your life!—But I!—I cannot conquer my loneliness after you depart with the thought that you will return when the first star flowers in the heavens. I shall no more, during the great heat of the day, dream of the night’s divine joys, which live again in thoughts of you. I shall feel lonely enough in this house during the coolness of evening when alone I shall hear the soft wind in the branches, the songs of my birds, the purling of my streams—then all that charms me at other times will bring in your absence only sorrow and tears!—Those two nights without you, how long they seemed!—and you speak of weeks!—several weeks, you say. “Where is he? What is he doing? Does he think of me? If he should never return!” (Enrique makes a quick movement.) Ah! perhaps that is what you wish to say and dare not tell me!

Enrique. I!

Zoraya. If you fear those men?—If you wish to see me no more?

Enrique. (Protesting) You believe me cowardly!—When I have risked myself in plain day to see you for an instant!

Zoraya. That is true!—But you seem so preoccupied, so troubled—

Enrique. Like yourself—by this danger.

Zoraya. Yes, but I am more tender than you—While you—they say that your heart is always far away—far away from me!—Look at me!—I want you to look at me!—Quickly!—without taking time to invent a lie! (She turns Enrique’s face toward her.) Your gaze seems to tell me that your love has been stolen from me!

Enrique. Ah! My charmer! What a long time until then!—Since the hour when we first met, they have followed me everywhere, those eyes, there—they call to me day and night!—Ramiro had said to me, “Take care, my lord, that the magician does not throw over you some kind of a love charm!”

Zoraya. Ramiro is a silly fellow. There has been neither a magician nor magic. “Life,” said my father, “is a combat, where, like flights of arrows, contrary minds strive among themselves for a victory, which finally rests with the fallen.” I desired ardently to be loved by you. You did not know how to defend yourself. I have shot my arrow into your heart—in that lies all of my sorcery.

Enrique. And why did you so fervently desire me to love you?

Zoraya. (Passing Enrique, to the left) First, because of cowardice, my dear lord!—to extort from you my pardon—and later on, if I conquered you, to flee from Toledo!

Enrique. Ingrate!

Zoraya. (Sitting) It is bold of me to tell you now—and next—for bravado, malice and revenge!

Enrique. Revenge?

Zoraya. Yes, yes, revenge! I wanted to have the pleasure of humiliating in you the Spaniard, the Christian, the conqueror of my people, the enemy of my race, which you declare impure! I wanted to make you renounce your faith like the heroes of that book of love (she points to the book on the table), “Celastine,” which you have given me to read—like Calixte, who said to his dear Melibee: “I am no more Christian or pagan. I am Melibee! I believe in no one but Melibee, I adore no one but Melibee!” And, after all!—after all!—I wanted to be loved—for the sake of love! Leaning against you, nearly in your arms, as I am now, with your cheek brushing my cheek—I felt little by little the chaste coldness of my widowhood, which Aisha always glorified, melting like snow in the glowing warmth of our clasped hands, in the burning breath from our hot lips—This fever of love which I believe will never be cured has crept stealthily into my blood. I am like one intoxicated. And when you say to me: “Go away, you are free!” I shall take with me in leaving the hope, the dear hope, that you will come to me very soon on some dark night and demand a ransom for my freedom. Ah! my adored conqueror, you are well avenged! She who would rule is no more than an humble slave at your feet, subdued and tender as a tamed gazelle! (Sounds of the distant bells. Enrique starts. Zoraya does not move.) What disturbs you?

Enrique. Those bells!

Zoraya. Well, they are ringing. What is that to us?

Enrique. It means that they are calling me and that it is time for us to part.

Zoraya. (Rising) So soon? What for? You may remain here until the hour of the siesta when the streets are deserted.

Enrique. Oh, no! That is impossible! (He rises.)

Zoraya. Impossible!

Enrique. There is to be a great feast in the palace and a great ceremony in the cathedral. All of my men are under arms and I must be at their head. I have scarcely time to return to the city in the same way that I came.

Zoraya. By boat?

Enrique. Yes. (He takes up his hat, mantle and sword.)

Zoraya. And if they should watch for you on the other side of the river?

Enrique. Do not dream of that!—Fear nothing!

Zoraya. Oh! I fear everything just now, those men—and for you!

Enrique. For me?

Zoraya. Yes! Yes! For either of us, who knows? Last night I had a menacing dream! You entered by that door! I ran to you! You were nothing but a shadow, a vapor which dissolved in my arms!

Enrique. What folly!—A dream!

Zoraya. All dreams are not lies! If this one should be true, what then?—Do assure me that you are not going away to forsake me!

Enrique. Oh!

Zoraya. For another!

Enrique. Hush! Hush!

Zoraya. I would kill you first!—No, no! Do not believe that! Pardon me for saying that—I have suffered so much during these last two days. And such bad omens! When do we meet again?

Enrique. God knows when! So soon as we can without danger.

Zoraya. Here?

Enrique. Oh, no!

Zoraya. Where then?

Enrique. I shall advise you.

Zoraya. (In his arms) And how shall I know?

Enrique. That will be arranged!—And, until I come, my dear love, believe nothing, do you hear!—nothing, only in my love for you! (The bells begin to ring again.)

Zoraya. Ah! those bells which always take you from my arms!

Enrique. I hope to see you soon!

Zoraya. Watch carefully during your return to the city.

Enrique. Yes, yes!

She gazes at him until he disappears through the doorway.

Scene Five

Aisha opens the curtains in the left arch. Seeing that Zoraya is alone, she descends into the scene.

Aisha. He is gone?

Zoraya. (Going back to the right) Yes, and let us hope safely. He will not return until many days have passed.

Aisha. I have turned away the poor men who came at their usual hour seeking aid from you.

Zoraya. Ah! I am in a fine state of mind to console others!

Aisha. I have again given Al Mansour’s wife that black liquor which lessens her husband’s sufferings. I also gave a purse of gold to Farizade. Poor Saada is here again. She is discouraged. Her sister suffers more than ever from that malady.

Zoraya. Alas! And there is no remedy!

Aisha. She begs you to have pity on this unfortunate woman, who asks that death relieve her and who implores you to send her a beverage which will put her into a sweet and everlasting sleep. (The bells stop ringing.)

Zoraya. Ah! that is the right kind of charity. They give that to a diseased dog, but they condemn human beings whom they love to suffer useless tortures—it is barbarous and stupid!

Aisha. Saada will return tomorrow.

Zoraya. Prepare for her bitter almond essence in a covering of pure wax the size of a muscat grain. That will take away the poor girl in less time than one can say: “There is no other God but Allah!” If it is a crime to do this, I am ready to face the charge. Is that all?

Aisha. (With hesitation) No!—there is another whom I did not want to send away. It is an urgent case, she said. She is anxiously waiting out there.

Zoraya. Do I know her?

Aisha. (The same) She is an old friend of your mother’s—Fatoum.

Zoraya. (Quickly) That wretched woman who was converted! I will not see her!

Aisha. She assures me she has been faithful to the Prophet’s law.

Zoraya. Well, what does she want?

Aisha. She is accompanied by a young girl in a litter.

Zoraya. Ill?

Aisha. Probably.

Zoraya. Let Fatoum alone enter.

Scene Six

Zoraya, Aisha, Fatoum

Aisha raises the portiÈre at the left to admit Fatoum, an old Moorish woman, who has been converted.

Zoraya. Come forward!

Fatoum. (She goes to Zoraya, who is seated, kneels and kisses the hem of her skirt) May Allah be merciful to you and rain his gifts upon you!

Zoraya. (Severely) Dare you pronounce His sacred name, you who have renounced the God of your fathers! Take care that He does not hear you!

Fatoum. He reads my heart and sees that I am converted only because I do not want to be separated from the child, whom I have brought here.

Zoraya. Your daughter?

Fatoum. By birth, no, Zoraya; by affection, ah! certainly, yes! She was ten years old when her mother died, and I have reared her.

Zoraya. A Spaniard?

Fatoum. Yes! You alone can heal her.

Zoraya. That is a case for the Christian physicians.

Fatoum. They know little or nothing. I have come to you because your father—on him rested Allah’s benediction—was their master in everything and taught you the secrets of his art.

Zoraya. Well, who is she?

Fatoum. She consented to come only when I promised not to reveal her name.

Zoraya. Then she may go!

Fatoum. Zoraya, have pity! This child’s father is a hardened Catholic!—If he knew that I had taken his daughter to a Moor’s home, I would be cruelly punished! Out of fondness for me, she keeps it a secret!

Zoraya. She need not know that you have betrayed it.

Fatoum. If you promise me——

Zoraya. Yes, I promise!—Who is she?

Fatoum. DoÑa Joana, daughter of the Governor of Toledo!

Zoraya. (Quickly rising) That madman who is hunting our refugees in the Sierra and killing them without pity!

Fatoum. Allah, the Most High, rewards the faithful for their sufferings! This child is innocent of her father’s cruelties. She is charitable and good, the same as we ourselves. Moreover, she is very pious. She has been out of the convent only four days and will be married today.

Zoraya. Ah! those bells!

Fatoum. Her marriage! In order to have her visit you we have taken advantage of a journey to the convent of Mercy on this beautiful morning to ask the benediction of the abbess.

Zoraya. The convent of Mercy!—In it is confined the poor creature who loved Kalem, whom they stoned to death.

Fatoum. I do not know.

Zoraya. I, myself, know it—and I shall tell Joana my price for healing her—Let her enter!

Aisha and Fatoum go out and return, bringing in Joana.

Scene Seven

The same persons and DoÑa Joana

Joana enters, timid, frightened and supported in Fatoum’s arms.

Zoraya. (Kindly) Do you not fear, seÑorita, to come into a pagan’s home?

Joana. Fatoum has told me that you are charitable. That is the law of the Gospel!

Zoraya. And also that of the Koran—In that our religions are the same!—Seat yourself, my daughter (she sits upon the cushions at her side)—and tell me your trouble.

Joana. (Timidly) Permit Fatoum to tell it instead of me.

Fatoum. (Seated on a stool which Aisha has placed in the left of the scene) It is very strange—She rises in her sleep at night. Without seeing any one, she goes, comes, attends to her ordinary duties and returns to her bed—and during all that time she is in a dream.

Zoraya. (Taking Joana’s hand, which relaxes) And she remembers nothing of it?

Joana. Oh, nothing!

Fatoum. This also happened in the convent.

Zoraya. No, no! I prefer to have her tell me about it, herself.

Joana. While in the convent I was frequently seized at night by a desire which led me to walk barefoot through the corridors to the chapel where I lighted the altar candles, prayed and sang a canticle!—and the next day the candles were still burning and I would not believe that I had lighted them. I prayed in vain to God to deliver me from this infirmity. I decided to come to you this morning with Fatoum, who says you are so wise!—For I am to be married today. If my husband sees me get up in the night and promenade like a phantom, he will believe it is a punishment from Heaven!—He will abhor me and I will die of shame!

Zoraya. (Leaning towards her) And during the day when you pray you fall into a dream of ecstasy, do you not—and you make believe that you are no more on this earth?

Joana. (Feeling gradually the suggestions to sleep) Oh, yes—yes!—It is so beautiful! Ah, it is delicious! I see Heaven!—blue—all blue, encircled with a golden light!—I hear the songs of seraphim and archangels!——

Zoraya. And is all beautiful in this delicious slumber into which you are falling?

Joana. (Sleepily) Yes!—Yes, beautiful!

Zoraya. As this? (She closes Joana’s eyes.)

Joana. Yes!—I see—I—I——

Zoraya. Sleep! I want you to!

Joana falls asleep with her head resting on Zoraya’s shoulder.

Fatoum. (In a low voice) Is she asleep?

Zoraya. It is a sleep like that in which she walks at night.

Fatoum. Joana!—SeÑorita!—My child!

Joana does not move.

Zoraya. She does not hear your voice!—Does she also speak of taking the veil?

Fatoum. Ah, God!—It is her only dream. But she is her father’s only child. He will not consent to it and is obliging her to marry, which makes her disconsolate.

Zoraya. Does she object to the marriage, or to the man who is to be her husband? (Calling) Joana! (Joana moves. Zoraya continues.) Answer!—Do you feel tenderly for him whom you are to marry?

Joana. (Feebly) I do not love him.

Zoraya. Then, it is a feeling of aversion?

Joana. No! (Sadly) I do not want to marry!—I want to be a nun.

Fatoum. Do you hear that!—To me, to her father, to the abbess and to the sisters at Mercy—she has nothing to say but: “I want to be a nun.” Do you think that they have encouraged her with that idea in the convent and pictured marriage as something frightful? She is afraid that she will fall into one of those sleep-walking dreams tonight, which would cause a scandal!

Zoraya. Perhaps marriage would cure this malady.

Fatoum. Oh! I implore you, Zoraya, to heal her yourself, at once——

Zoraya. In a day, it is impossible!—Can you not come later? I shall surely succeed in curing her by frequently placing her in the present state in which she thinks of nothing, feels nothing and moves only at my command.

Fatoum. Is it possible?—It is magic!

Zoraya. No!—It is one of the mysterious laws of Nature that one will can fasten upon another, as mine has upon this child’s, and cause it to submit. It is so, Fatoum, for good or bad. If my power over this weaker creature were better established, and not so recent, I could say to her at this moment: “On such a day, at such an hour, you shall sleep this same sleep.” And unless she guarded herself while asleep, the least remembrance of that order on the stated day and hour would cause her to sleep unexpectedly in spite of her will, completely enslaved by mine. It is time to awaken her.

Fatoum. Not yet, I pray you!—Your will is so powerful. Can you not give her some protection against this disease tonight?

Zoraya. I can attempt it with great hope of success.

Fatoum. Oh! do it, Zoraya!—Do it! I shall forever bless you!

Zoraya. Joana! I tell you not to have the least fear that your trouble will return tonight. I have protected you. Do you understand?

Joana. (Feebly) Yes!—Yes!

Fatoum. May Allah reward you!

Zoraya. I tell you to awaken.

She draws Joana to her, leans over her shoulder, places her hand on the top of her head, breathes on her eyes and opens her eyelids. Joana sighs, rouses herself, awakens and looks astonished.

Joana. (Sadly) Ah! you see!—I have slept again.

Zoraya. No, seÑorita, no!—It is I who made you sleep.

Joana. You can do that!

Zoraya. And can also cure you.

Joana. (Quickly) God has guided you!

Zoraya. Be assured, your malady will not trouble you tonight. (Signs of joy from Joana. Zoraya continues.) All service, of course, is worthy of reward. Therefore, I put a price on your healing.

Joana. Ah! I promise to pay in advance.

Zoraya. You are going to the convent of Mercy?

Joana. Yes, to ask for the blessing of the Holy Abbess.

Zoraya. There is in that convent a Christian maid, who, for having loved Kalem, is confined in a dungeon where she never sees daylight, where she awaits death to deliver her, if she has not yet answered its call.

Joana. Yes, poor girl, I know—but her crime——

Zoraya. You should quickly judge her as being the least guilty.—Implore for that unfortunate girl the mercy of the abbess, who will refuse you nothing on this, your nuptial day—Ask that this miserable creature be brought out of her living tomb, that she be given a cell where she may see a ray of sunlight, and that she be fed with other nourishment than bread and water, which increase the sufferings to which she is condemned. As for this today—Too late, we fear.

Joana. I shall request this as a favor.

Zoraya. You swear that you will?

Joana. Before God!

The distant bells again ring.

Zoraya. (Without rising) Those are your marriage bells, dear child. (Aisha assists Joana to rise) I hope that you will have good health, a happy and contented love and that your youth will be decked with flowers.

Joana leaves with Aisha, while Fatoum stops to kiss Zoraya’s hand.

Fatoum. Allah’s benediction upon you!

Fatoum goes out with Joana.

Scene Eight

Zoraya, Aisha, Zaguir

At the instant that Fatoum and Joana disappear in the garden, Zaguir appears on the threshold of the little door.

Zoraya. You followed those men?

Zaguir. Yes, mistress!—Far into the city, but I lost them in the crowd. All of the world seems to be in the streets, for there is a great fÊte.

Zoraya. Yes, I know—the marriage.

Zaguir. Of the Governor’s daughter and Don Enrique Palacios!

Zoraya stifles a heartrending cry.

Aisha. (Running to Zoraya) Ah! unhappy child! (Zoraya clings fast to her, bewildered, swaying, choking. She finally falls on the cushions between Aisha and Zaguir, who rush to aid her.) My Zoraya!—My poor Zoraya!

(Curtain)