ENRIQUE. Come forward. Pay no attention to them. What is your name?
FAREZ. Farez.
ENRIQUE. A Moor?
THE GOATHERD. (Maliciously) But converted.
ENRIQUE. What is your trade?
FAREZ. Muleteer.
ENRIQUE. Then, according to your opinion, these people are wrong?
FAREZ. This is all idle talk, my lord--the ravings of old women.
(Cries from the peasants, whom Ramiro silences.)
ENRIQUE. Do you know this Moorish woman?
FAREZ. Zoraya?
ENRIQUE. Is her name Zoraya?
FAREZ. Yes, my lord; that is to say, in the Arabic tongue, "The Star
of the Morning." I have long known her. I was in Granada before the
conquest, employed as a servant by her father, Abou-Abassa, a scholar
and physician of the last King Boabdil.
ENRIQUE. Maiden, woman or widow--this Zoraya?
FAREZ. Widow, my lord!--Sometime before the siege she was married to
a very valiant Moor, who was killed in a sortie.
ENRIQUE. Being now a Granadan, does she reside in Toledo?
FAREZ. After the capture of Toledo, the wise Bishop Talavera, Governor
of our city, took a strong fancy to Abou-Abassa because of his great
knowledge and made him come here to reside. The daughter, of course,
lived with him. The mother is no longer of this earth.
ENRIQUE. Does she reside in Toledo?
FAREZ. No, my lord; but near here on this mountain-slope in a house
built by her father, who died in the past year. She lives there alone
with her old servants and her few surviving friends. Her door is
always open to those of her race and her religion who appeal to her
in need or in sickness.
ENRIQUE. Ah! She likewise practises healing?
FAREZ. Free of charge! Her father left her great wealth and the
knowledge of his art. Those of her own race are not the only ones who
have sought her aid. (Addressing the peasants) More than one Christian
who has secretly begged gold and medicines from her now shows his
ingratitude by accusing her of causing hail to fall upon the fields.
(The peasants protest.)
ENRIQUE. (Silencing them) That is enough! (To Ramiro) Keep the
muleteer. Release the others. (Exclamations of joy.)
THE PEASANTS. Ah, thanks! your lordship! God will reward you! Long
live His Excellency!
ARIAS. (Pushing them along) Go! Go! Disperse without noise! (They
leave from both sides of the scene.)