Enrique. What do you do with them?
Zoraya. From the hearts of these flowers, my lord, I extract essences and perfumes for myself and ointments, elixirs and powders for curing diseases.
Enrique. Are these remedies, these poisonous herbs?
Zoraya. Yes; wholesome and healing. The vermilion fruit of the black henbane and that of the deadly nightshade or belladonna cure delirium and insanity. They also put sufferers to sleep. Also these others. They are like all things of the world, in love the same: according to the case and the dose, cure or kill.
Enrique. Oh! by that I understand that you deal in love philters.
Zoraya. What need of them, my dear lord?—Love is born of a smile, rather than of a philter.
Enrique. (Jesting) Do you often make that test?
Zoraya. Never!
Enrique. (The same) Oh!—so chaste—in spite of those eyes, there?
Zoraya. Through pride! It is not necessary to search for dignity in me!