Zoraya. Ah! (She raises a card.)
Aisha. What?
Zoraya. The Cavalier of the Sword—now I am beginning to detect the cause!
Aisha. You see!—I thought until this minute that we should not be left long in security! You had decided to do as the others advised and flee to the coast of Africa to escape the persecutions of the Nazarenes! Then, it was necessary to meet this man! Ah! misery upon us! Ever since the time when he unexpectedly appeared while we were breathing the evening breeze on the hill and when you so foolishly threw yourself into his arms, I have believed that I hear the black wings of Azrael, the angel of death, brushing the roof of our house!
Zoraya. “Our Destiny,” says the Prophet, “is suspended from our necks”—If it is written that I shall die for Enrique, then I may likewise wish that it should be in his arms!
Aisha. Oh! my daughter, you who were so chaste in your widowhood, why are you enamored with this infidel, this enemy of the true God?
Zoraya. Do you know how and why I love him? I was at his mercy! A word, and he could have thrown me into the dungeons of the Inquisition. It was good of him to save my honor, a price which they always extort from our other women. I will risk anything for him. Those men were there to act as my safeguards during the night. I shall wait for an opportune time and flee to Toledo before evening!
Aisha. Rain of Heaven!
Zoraya. But what weakness is ours! He is young, he is generous in his love, his gaze is tender!—when he liberated me, I could dream no more of fleeing.
Aisha. Alas!