"I know not what Aby Aly said on presenting me to his master, nor what the latter replied, for they spoke in their own tongue; but I thought I could perceive by the looks and gestures of the Dey that I had the misfortune to please him. But what, after they had conversed thus for some time, was addressed to me in my own language, completed my despair by confirming me in the opinion I had formed. [Illustration: Donna Theodora and Aby Aly before Mezzomorto] "Vainly I cast myself before him, offering him whatever sum he chose to name as my ransom; in vain did I tempt his avarice by the promise of all that I possessed, or could command: he answered me by saying, that I offered him in my own person more than all the riches in the world could bestow. He then conducted me to this apartment, the most splendid his palace contains, and from that hour to the present moment, he has spared no pains to dispel the grief with which he sees me overcome. All his slaves who either dance, sing, or play, have tried by his command their skill before me. He removed from me Agnes, because he thought that she served to remind me of my home, and I am now attended by two aged female slaves, whose sole discourse is of love and the Dey, and of the happiness which through his favour I may secure. "Need I say, Don Juan, that all their efforts to divert my grief add but to its intensity, and that nothing can console me? Captive in this detestable palace, which resounds from day to day with the cries of innocence oppressed, I suffer less from the mere loss of liberty than from the terror which the hated tenderness of the Dey inspires. It is true I have hitherto found in him but a lover gentle and respectful; but I am not the less alarmed. I fear lest, wearied by a semblance of devotion, which cannot but constrain him to put on, he should resume the rights of power; and this fear agitates me without ceasing, making of my life but one long torment." As Donna Theodora finished these words, she wept; and her tears fell like iron on the heart of poor Don Juan. "It is not without cause," he at last exclaimed, "that you look on the future with dread; I am, myself, as much alarmed for it as you. The respect of the Dey is melting faster than even you imagine; your submissive lover will soon abandon all the mildness he assumes. Alas! I know too well the dangers which surround you.