Enrique. Revenge?
Zoraya. Yes, yes, revenge! I wanted to have the pleasure of humiliating in you the Spaniard, the Christian, the conqueror of my people, the enemy of my race, which you declare impure! I wanted to make you renounce your faith like the heroes of that book of love (she points to the book on the table), “Celastine,” which you have given me to read—like Calixte, who said to his dear Melibee: “I am no more Christian or pagan. I am Melibee! I believe in no one but Melibee, I adore no one but Melibee!” And, after all!—after all!—I wanted to be loved—for the sake of love! Leaning against you, nearly in your arms, as I am now, with your cheek brushing my cheek—I felt little by little the chaste coldness of my widowhood, which Aisha always glorified, melting like snow in the glowing warmth of our clasped hands, in the burning breath from our hot lips—This fever of love which I believe will never be cured has crept stealthily into my blood. I am like one intoxicated. And when you say to me: “Go away, you are free!” I shall take with me in leaving the hope, the dear hope, that you will come to me very soon on some dark night and demand a ransom for my freedom. Ah! my adored conqueror, you are well avenged! She who would rule is no more than an humble slave at your feet, subdued and tender as a tamed gazelle! (Sounds of the distant bells. Enrique starts. Zoraya does not move.) What disturbs you?
Enrique. Those bells!
Zoraya. Well, they are ringing. What is that to us?
Enrique. It means that they are calling me and that it is time for us to part.
Zoraya. (Rising) So soon? What for? You may remain here until the hour of the siesta when the streets are deserted.
Enrique. Oh, no! That is impossible! (He rises.)
Zoraya. Impossible!
Enrique. There is to be a great feast in the palace and a great ceremony in the cathedral. All of my men are under arms and I must be at their head. I have scarcely time to return to the city in the same way that I came.
Zoraya. By boat?