Enrique. It is exquisite!—You who read the future so well in the hand—(She attempts to withdraw her hand) No! No! Do not take away your hand!—do you also know how to read the present in my thoughts? (He turns Zoraya’s face gently towards his own.)
Zoraya. (Returning his ardent gaze) Yes! (In a low voice) You think that I am beautiful and desirable!
Enrique. (Quickly) Yes.
Zoraya. (The same) But I am a Saracen, a pagan, an outcast! I am one whom you have not the right to love!
Enrique. Therefore, you are more desirable!
Zoraya. (The same) Don’t you find the royal edict which would punish us very severe: I thrown into the oubliette—you sent to the galleys or to the stake?
Enrique. Too severe—certainly!
Zoraya. Wasn’t Kalem excusable for risking such a cruel fate?
Enrique. Yes.
Zoraya. And doesn’t she, this unfortunate girl who had not the strength to resist the madness of a similar love, deserve pity?