Enrique. You were there!
Zoraya. It was to the entire city that I failed to cry: “That Christian is my lover!” But that cry would have sent you to the King’s galleys. My heart failed me and coward that I am, I was ready to flee, weeping.
Enrique. Do not condemn me without hearing me!
Zoraya. Oh, God!—you, you, who this morning—Oh, God! God! Is it possible?
She falls seated at the foot of the column.
Enrique. My Zoraya, my mistake, mine alone for not telling you the first day——
Zoraya. Do you love this girl?
Enrique. Ah! certainly, no!—I was forced——
Zoraya. You betrayed me for her?
Enrique. It is she whom I have betrayed for you!—I have known you only three months. She and I were betrothed years ago!—But I was so sure she would take the veil and remain in the convent. After this marriage was arranged contrary to her wish and my own, I found so many pretexts for postponing it that further delay would have roused suspicion. They would have searched for the reason and found it, perhaps. Then!—then, during the last two days when I did not see you, I resolved to confess all to you.—This morning I attempted to tell you—But I saw you so roused over a single thought of another woman that I did not have the courage to cause a scene and withstand your reproaches, which would have been needless, as I could not let your tears cause me to forget my solemn obligations as a Christian, my word as a gentleman and my most sacred duties.