Ramiro. Not now, Don Ambrosio. His Eminence and the Governor are after them with the hand of death.
Don Ambrosio. Then, Ramiro, you will see the advantages of severe treatment. Within six months thousands of Moors will be converted.
Murmurs of satisfaction. The music ceases.
Cardenos. That is a mere farce, my Lord Ambrosio! (Gravely) These new Christians are liars—they go to mass, only to laugh when they come away. They themselves confess of avowing only to silly things. When their children are baptized, they wash them quickly to cleanse them of what they call the pollution of the blessed holy oil. (Murmurs of indignation) Their daughters are married at our altars, dressed as Christians, but when they reënter their homes they dress themselves as Moors—and celebrate their nuptials with dances and forbidden Arabian songs, such as the zambra, to the music of tambourines, trumpet-shells, cymbals and other instruments also forbidden!
Doña Rufina. For my part, I can overlook the zambra and the tambourine, but I strongly approve prohibiting Moorish women from dyeing their eyebrows and eyelashes. They are bold enough looking without that.
Doña Syrena. Oh, my! I think the most admirable royal edict is the one which provides the penalty of execution for any intimacy between a Spaniard and a Mooress—for there are truly beautiful girls in the homes of these Africans, and you are not too little inclined, my lords, to perceive them.
Rioubos. And for my part, Señora, I strongly approve of the edict which punishes with solitary confinement in a dungeon any Spanish woman who loves one of these blacks to whose beauty you are not always indifferent.
Doña Syrena. (Quickly) Oh! but that is all the more excusable.
Laughter and exclamations.
Doña Rufina. (Quickly) Ah, my dear, what did you say then?