"Vainly I cast myself before him, offering him whatever sum he chose to name as my ransom; in vain did I tempt his avarice by the promise of all that I possessed, or could command: he answered me by saying, that I offered him in my own person more than all the riches in the world could bestow. He then conducted me to this apartment, the most splendid his palace contains, and from that hour to the present moment, he has spared no pains to dispel the grief with which he sees me overcome. All his slaves who either dance, sing, or play, have tried by his command their skill before me. He removed from me Agnes, because he thought that she served to remind me of my home, and I am now attended by two aged female slaves, whose sole discourse is of love and the Dey, and of the happiness which through his favour I may secure.
"Need I say, Don Juan, that all their efforts to divert my grief add but to its intensity, and that nothing can console me? Captive in this detestable palace, which resounds from day to day with the cries of innocence oppressed, I suffer less from the mere loss of liberty than from the terror which the hated tenderness of the Dey inspires. It is true I have hitherto found in him but a lover gentle and respectful; but I am not the less alarmed. I fear lest, wearied by a semblance of devotion, which cannot but constrain him to put on, he should resume the rights of power; and this fear agitates me without ceasing, making of my life but one long torment."
As Donna Theodora finished these words, she wept; and her tears fell like iron on the heart of poor Don Juan. "It is not without cause," he at last exclaimed, "that you look on the future with dread; I am, myself, as much alarmed for it as you. The respect of the Dey is melting faster than even you imagine; your submissive lover will soon abandon all the mildness he assumes. Alas! I know too well the dangers which surround you.
"But," he continued, his voice changing as he spoke, "shall I calmly witness your dishonour? Slave though I be, he may feel the weight of my despair. Before Mezzomorto injures you, I will plunge in his heart——" "Ah! Don Juan," interrupted the widow of Cifuentes, "what dreadful project do you dream of? For Heaven's sake, think of it no more! With what dreadful cruelties would they avenge his death! Torments the most refined—I cannot think of them without trembling! Besides, to what end would you encounter such a peril? In taking the life of the Dey, would you restore me to liberty? Alas! I should be sold to some other tyrant who would treat me with less respect than Mezzomorto. No!" she exclaimed, throwing herself on her knees, "it is thou, Almighty Father, who canst alone protect me. Thou knowest my weakness, and the infamous designs of him in whose power I am placed. Thou, who forbiddest me to save myself by poison or the steel, Thou wilt save me in Thy justice from a crime that is abhorrent in Thy sight."
"Yes, madam," replied Zarata, "Heaven will avert the misfortune with which you are threatened! I feel already that it inspires me;—the ideas which flash across my mind are doubtless prompted by its mercy. Hear me! The Dey has permitted me to see you, only that I might induce you to return his love. It is time that I rendered him an account of our interview; and, in so doing, I shall deceive him. I will tell him that your grief may be overcome; that his conduct towards you has already won for him your esteem, and that, from a continuance in that conduct, he has everything to hope. Do you assist me in my design? When he comes next to visit you, let him find you less sorrowful than usual; and appear, at least, to be interested in his conversation."
"What a task would you impose on me!" interrupted Donna Theodora. "How is my soul, always frank and open, to assume such a disguise, and what will be the fruit of so painful a deception?" "The Dey," replied Zarata, "will be flattered by this change in your deportment, and will be anxious to complete his conquest of you by gentle means. In the meanwhile, I will endeavour to effect your freedom: it will be difficult, I acknowledge; but I am acquainted with a slave on whose address and enterprise some reliance may be placed.
"I leave you," he continued, "as no time is to be lost: we shall meet again. I now go to the Dey; whose impetuous ardour I hope to restrain by some well-invented fables. And you, madam, prepare to receive him; constrain yourself to deceit. Let your eyes, which his presence offends, display neither hatred nor pride; let your lips, which now unclose but to express your affliction, form for him honeyed words of respect; you must indirectly promise all, in order that you may concede nothing." "Enough!" replied the lady, "I will do as you desire, since the danger that impends over me compels me to this cruel necessity. Go! Don Juan, employ all your thoughts to end my slavery: my freedom will be doubly sweet, if owing to you."