Enrique. Alone—tonight?
Zoraya. I intend to leave Toledo before dawn.
Enrique. To leave Toledo?
Zoraya. Ah! God, yes!—this accursed city which has nothing but sorrow and peril for me!
Enrique. (Barring her exit at the door) What! It is absurd—you shall not go!
Zoraya. You would prefer to deliver me to the Inquisition?
Enrique. Ah! How unworthy!
Zoraya. They are seeking for me—tonight, perhaps.
Enrique. And where are you going, poor child?
Zoraya. Into the Sierra, by paths known only to us, to the homes of the rebels. Later I shall go to Africa and find refuge in my father’s brother’s home in Tangier.