Enrique. (Tenderly) All!—And it is for the life of this innocent girl that I want your own—Zoraya!
Zoraya. (Moved by his accent) Ah! that word is enough!—This time I have recognized your voice!—Very well, if the governor promises to pardon me.
Padilla. Absolutely!
Zoraya. On your oath!
Mutterings from the crowd.
Padilla. Before God!
Louder mutterings.
Zoraya. I am ready!
Enrique. Come, then!
He turns to enter the church. The Inquisitors at the entrance bar his way.