Fatoum. (She goes to Zoraya, who is seated, kneels and kisses the hem of her skirt) May Allah be merciful to you and rain his gifts upon you!
Zoraya. (Severely) Dare you pronounce His sacred name, you who have renounced the God of your fathers! Take care that He does not hear you!
Fatoum. He reads my heart and sees that I am converted only because I do not want to be separated from the child, whom I have brought here.
Zoraya. Your daughter?
Fatoum. By birth, no, Zoraya; by affection, ah! certainly, yes! She was ten years old when her mother died, and I have reared her.
Zoraya. A Spaniard?
Fatoum. Yes! You alone can heal her.
Zoraya. That is a case for the Christian physicians.
Fatoum. They know little or nothing. I have come to you because your father—on him rested Allah’s benediction—was their master in everything and taught you the secrets of his art.
Zoraya. Well, who is she?