So, on coming forth from the inn, and seeing a veiled and cloaked lady, evidently a traveller, in the courtyard, he withdrew with Leporello behind some trees to watch her unobserved. As the lady drew near, she wrung her hands in distress, and from a few incoherent sentences uttered as she passed, the hidden watchers gathered that she had been abandoned by some false lover whom she angrily sought, in order to avenge herself upon him.
Don Juan now stepped forward with his usual gallant air, and accosted her; but as the young lady flung back her veil, he recognised, to his dismay, the features of a beautiful lady of Burgos, Donna Elvira, whom he had but recently betrayed and cast aside.
Instantly recognising the recreant lover who had so cruelly abandoned her, Donna Elvira began to pour forth bitter reproaches upon him; but Don Juan, callously familiar with such scenes, pushed forward Leporello, bidding him explain matters to the lady.
Then, as Donna Elvira eagerly approached the servant for his explanation, the heartless cavalier slyly made his escape; and when the poor lady presently turned impatiently from the vapid string of empty words uttered pompously by the experienced Leporello, she found that her expected prey had vanished. Bidding her be of good comfort, since she was neither the first nor the last of his master's numberless victims, Leporello now produced a book from his pocket, in which he had written the names of all the fair maidens who had been basely deceived in similar fashion; and having thus proved that she shared her abandoned position with many others, the servant suddenly took to his heels and ran away down the country road that led to Don Juan's estate.
For a few minutes, Elvira remained stunned, for she had loved Don Juan with her whole heart, willingly yielding herself to his embraces and insinuating temptations, and trusting fondly to his false promises; but now, dishonoured, betrayed, abandoned, she at last saw him in his true colours—a heartless libertine. Full of grief and rage, she determined to avenge herself for her outraged affections and ruined life; and knowing that her betrayer's residence was in the neighbourhood, she hurried along the road taken by Leporello.
When Don Juan arrived at his palace he found that great revels were being held by the peasants on the estates, in honour of the betrothal of a pair of rustic lovers; and seeing that the bride-elect, Zerlina, was an extremely pretty maiden, the gay lord of the soil determined to amuse himself with her.
Consequently, when Leporello presently arrived (having taken a short cut from the road), he bade him conduct all the peasants immediately to the palace, and entertain them with feasting and dancing within the banquet-hall and garden, whispering an injunction to keep the future bridegroom, Masetto, specially occupied.
As the merry rustics, eager for such an unexpected treat, trooped away willingly to the palace, Don Juan detained the pretty Zerlina, and putting his arm round her waist and whispering honeyed words of admiration and flattery, endeavoured to lead her aside to a secluded woodland glade.
The simple Zerlina, accustomed only to the clumsy love-making of a rustic clown, was greatly impressed by the ardent glances and sweet persuasive caresses of the great lord; and when Don Juan, declaring passionately that she should become his bride and never be wed to the boor, Masetto, presently led her to a small summer pavilion which he said should be her home, she gave way to the dazzling charm of the moment, and suffered herself to be led away with a beating heart.
But just at this moment, Donna Elvira, who, having found her way into the grounds, had watched and overheard the whole of this pretty scene, rushed forward, and dragging Zerlina to one side, explained to her that Don Juan was but an evil deceiver, who meant to ruin her. Zerlina, now full of horror, shrank back ashamed, and Elvira, throwing a glance of scorn at the faithless gallant, put a protecting arm round the frightened girl, and drew her gently away.