Throughout the play, Don Juan recalls his privileged social status—a young, wealthy aristocrat whose father serves at the king's right hand—and uses his superior position to validate his actions and escape consequences. He relies on his uncle’s familial mercy to escape execution, uses his status to leverage access to Aminta, a peasant girl, and expects little punishment for his crimes beyond a slap on the wrist. Indeed, Don Juan’s perceived status acts as a veil: it disguises his true self while disrupting his perception of the world before him. Téllez is careful to indicate that, although Don Juan is an egregious example of the upper class’s poor behavior, the other nobles at court seem to share his feckless nonchalance. 

While Don Juan faces little in the way of earthly punishment, the divine retribution Don Gonzalo enacts is as supernatural as it is well deserved. As the ghostly man reveals, Don Juan’s actions are an offense to God and all those living righteous lives. Because Don Juan assumed that his life yawned unendingly ahead, he avoided his religious responsibilities and never regretted his crimes. As such, he never repented nor genuinely asked for forgiveness; at the time of his death, Don Juan felt no guilt or remorse. Only when Don Gonzalo dragged him to hell did Don Juan feel fear and regret. Not for those he hurt but for his folly in assuming that his earthly superiority held any influence in the divine realm. In so doing, Téllez indicates the primacy of God’s will in Spanish life; no one, not even the fabulously wealthy, is safe from divine retribution.

While Don Juan is a young, attractive, and wealthy aristocrat, neither his physical appearance nor status enable him to seduce and manipulate those around him. Although these tools lessen the difficulty of his deception, his precise and intentionally slippery language is the crux of his success. In the case of Isabel, the first seduction readers experience, Don Juan relies on assumption. He manipulates Isabel’s expectations, leaning into her belief that he is her lover, Duke Octavio. Even when the lantern reveals his deception, Don Juan continues to rely on the flattery to which she has proven so susceptible. Even as she screams, he attempts to woo her once more. With Thisbe, whose desire for companionship and love is so painfully obvious, Don Juan adopts a different tactic. He guilts her half-hearted attention, begging for her to prove her love and disarming all of her rationalizations. When he woos Aminta, Don Juan again relies on slippery language and impersonal declarations of love. 

With every woman he seduces, Don Juan evaluates their desires and motivations; in so doing, he finds the chink in their armor, which he can exploit to his advantage. In the case of Isabel, he plays to her assumptions and vanities; with Thisbe, he draws on her insecurities and loneliness; and for Aminta, Don Juan plays off of the chaos and confusion his arrival sparked. Indeed, he is the perfect manipulator, as he has an impeccable sense of timing; Don Juan knows when to push and how far but also knows it is time to make his escape. While readers know the insatiable man’s intentions, the women he manipulates do not. As such, their feelings are rooted in deeply emotional truths, making their betrayal all the more painful. Téllez’s argument is simple: be cautious in love, for it is impossible to know what is in the heart of another. Seduction, he indicates, is a falsity, little more than an illusion intending to trick, manipulate, and exploit.