ACT II
Scene: Same as Act I.
Rheou discovered alone. After a few moments the Steward enters through the gates.
Rheou. What have you seen?
Steward. The preparations for the festival continue.
Rheou. At the Temple?
Steward. At the Temple.
Rheou. For the Feast of Prodigies?
Steward. For the Feast of Prodigies.
Rheou. And the priests believe they can celebrate it to-morrow?
Steward. I have seen no reason to doubt of it.
Rheou. Without Yaouma?
Steward. I do not know.
Rheou. You are mistaken perhaps. Did you go down as far as the Nile?
Steward. Yes, master.
Rheou. Well?
Steward. They have finished the decoration of the sacred barge.
Rheou. I do not understand it.
Steward. Nor I, for I know that a certain number of the soldiers have refused to renew the attempt of yesterday—
Rheou. They have refused?
Steward. Yes.
Steward. That they were afraid.
Rheou. Of what—of whom?
Steward. Of Satni.
Rheou. Of Satni?
Steward. Yes. They say it was he who caused the miracle of yesterday.
Rheou. What—what do they say? Their words—tell me?
Steward. That it was he—
Rheou. He, Satni?—
Steward. Yes.
Rheou. Who caused the miracle of yesterday?
Steward. Yes.
Rheou. The miracle that prevented them from carrying out the order of the High Priest?
Steward. Yes.
Rheou. The order to come here and seize Yaouma?
Steward. Yes.
Rheou. So that is what they say?
Steward. Every one says it.
Rheou [after some reflection] Come, it is time you learned the truth, that you may repeat it all. In the countries whither he went Satni learned many things—great things. Come hither, lend your ear. He declares there be other gods than the gods of Egypt—and more powerful. If you remember, my father and the Pharaoh Amenotep likewise declared this, and would have made these gods known to us. How they were frustrated you know. It seems—for my own part I know not, 'tis Satni says so, ceaselessly, these two months since his return—it seems then, the time is come when these Gods would make them known to us. They have endowed Satni with superhuman power. That I know, and none may doubt it now. Satni is resolved to keep his betrothed, and the Lybian Guards were not deceived, it was he who yesterday called down the thunder and the floods from Heaven upon the soldiers sent here to seize Yaouma.
Steward. The oldest remember but one such prodigy.
Rheou. What I have told you, tell to all; and this, besides, say to them: each time that any would cross the will of Satni—they who dare the attempt will be scattered, even as the guards were scattered yesterday. Add this, that Satni is guided by the spirit of the dead Pharaoh, that I last night beheld my father's spirit, and that great events will come to pass in Egypt.
Steward. I shall tell them.
Rheou. Behold, the envoy of the new gods! Leave me to speak with him. Go, repeat my words.
The Steward goes out.
Satni enters from the back. Rheou prostrates himself before Satni.
Satni [looking behind him] Before which God do you still bow down?
Rheou. Before you. If you be not a God, you are the spirit of a God.
Satni. I do not understand your words.
Rheou. Who can call down thunderbolts from heaven, unless he be an envoy of the Gods?
Satni. I am no—
Rheou. 'Tis well, 'tis well. You would have us blind to your power of working miracles. After yesterday you can hide it no more. Henceforth, Satni, you must no longer confine your teaching to Mieris, to me, to your parents, Yaouma, to a few—henceforth you may speak to all, all ears are opened by this miracle.
Satni. Let us leave that! I pray you rise and tell me rather what has befallen Yaouma.
Rheou. Yaouma!—Did she not at first interpret the thunderclap as sign of the wrath of Ammon against her?
Satni. She believes still in Ammon, then, despite all I have said to her.
Rheou. Happily I undeceived her. I made her understand that 'twas you the elements obeyed, that the thunder that frighted her, was but a sign of your power.
Satni. Why should you lie to her?
Rheou. It was not wholly lying. Besides, it was fortunate I could thus explain the event. Had you but seen her—
Satni. All my efforts of these two months past, in vain!
Rheou. You remember when you left us yesterday. You might have thought that all her superstitions were banished at last. She no longer answered you, she questioned you no more, and at your last words her silence confirmed the belief that at length you had won her away from Ammon. Yet after you were gone, at the moment of entering her hiding place, she was swept with sudden fury as though an evil spirit had entered her, wept, cried and tore her hair—
Satni. What said she?
Rheou. "To the temple! to the temple! I would go to the temple! The God has chosen me! The God awaits me! Egypt will perish!" In short, words of madness. She would have killed herself!
Satni. Killed herself!
Rheou. We had to put constraint on her. And 'twas only when I led her to this terrace, after the thunderbolt, and pointed out the scattered soldiery, that she came to herself, that at length she perceived that your God was the most powerful. "What," she cried, "'tis he, he, my Satni, who shakes the heavens and the earth for me! For me!" she murmured, "for me!" She would have kissed your sandals, offered you a sacrifice, worshipped, adored you. See where she comes, with Mieris! Stay.
Satni. No.
He goes. Rheou accompanies him. Mieris enters, bearing flowers and led by Yaouma.
Mieris [listening] Is he there?
Yaouma. No.
Mieris. Leave me.
Yaouma goes out. Mieris left alone makes several hesitating steps toward the statue of Isis, then goes up to it and touches it. A pause.
Mieris. If it be only of wood!
A gesture of disillusion. She draws slowly away from the statue, letting her flowers fall, broken-hearted, and begins to weep. Rheou returns.
Rheou. Why, Mieris—do you bring flowers to Isis still?
Mieris. It is the last time. Listen, Rheou—We mast ask Satni to heal me. Do not tell me it is not possible; he has healed Ahmarsti.
Rheou. Healed Ahmarsti?
Mieris, Yes. He made her drink a liquid wherein no doubt a good genius was hidden, and the evil spirit that tormented her was driven forth.
Rheou [credulously] Is't possible?
Mieris. Every one saw it. And Kitoui—
Rheou. Well?
Mieris. Kitoui, the cripple, went this morning to draw water from the Nile, before all her neighbors who marvelled and cried with joy. And she had merely touched the hem of his garment, even without his knowing it. He has healed the child of Riti, too, he knows gods more powerful than ours—younger gods, perhaps, our gods are so old—If it were not so, how could he have walked unscathed the road where the scarabs lay, that day when he came home? Since then, men have seen him do a thousand forbidden things, have seen him defy our gods by disrespect. Without the protection of a higher power, how could he escape the chastisement whereof another had died? Who are his gods? Rheou, he must make them known to you.
Rheou. He refuses.
Mieris. For what reason?
Rheou. The reason he gives is absurd—he says there are no gods—
Mieris. No gods! no gods!—he is mocking you.
Rheou. He is bound to secrecy, perhaps.
Mieris. Rheou, know you that this Ahmarsti—these two years now, on the day of Prodigies, have I heard her at my side howling prayers at the goddess that were never answered.
Rheou. I know. Satni declares he could have healed all whom the goddess has relieved.
Mieris [to herself] He relieves even those women whom she abandons—[After a pause] He must teach you the words that work these miracles.
Rheou. He refuses.
Mieris. Force him!
Rheou. He says there are none.
Mieris. Threaten him with death—he will speak.
Rheou. No.
Mieris [with excitement] But you do not understand me!—he has healed Ahmarsti, he has healed Kitoui, wherefore should he not heal me?
Rheou [sadly] Ah! Mieris, Mieris, think you I waited for your prayer, to ask him that?
Mieris. Well—Well—?
Rheou. I could gain nothing but these words from him: "Could I overcome the evil Mieris suffers from, even now should she rejoice in the splendor of day."
Mieris. Nothing is impossible to the gods, even to ours; how much more then to his!—He did not yield to your prayers!—Insist, order, threaten! Force him to speak. You have the right to command him. He is but the son of a potter after all. Let him be whipped till he yield. Do anything, have him whipped to the point of death—or better, offer him fields, the hill of date-trees that is ours; offer him our flocks, and my jewels and precious stones—tell him we know him for a living god—but I would be healed. I would be healed! I would see! See! [With anger] Ah! you know not the worth of the light, you whose eyes are filled with it! You cannot picture my misery, you who suffer it not! You grieve for me, I doubt not, but you think you have done enough, having given me pity!—No, no, I am wrong—I am unjust. But forgive me; this thought that I might be healed has made me mad. Rheou!—Think, Rheou, what it means to be blind, to have been so always, and to know that beside one are those who see—who see!—The humblest of our shepherds, the most wretched of the women at our looms, I envy them. And when, at times, I hear them complain, I curb myself lest I should strike them, wretches that know not their good fortune. I feel that all you, you who see, should never cease from songs of joy, and hymns of thanksgiving to the gods—[With an outburst] I speak of sight! Think, Rheou, I have not even a clear idea of what it means "to see." To recognize without touch, to know without need to listen. To perceive the sun another way than by the heat of its rays!—They say the flowers are so beautiful!—I would see you, my well-beloved. Oh! the day when I shall see your eyes!—I would see, that you may show me some likeness of the little child we lost. You shall point out, among the rest, those that are most like to him. This misery—O my beloved!—I do not often speak of it—but I suffer it! I suffer it! [She is in his arms] They have taken from me the hope that our gods will heal me, if they give me nothing in its place, know you what I shall do?—I shall go away, alone, one night, touching the walls, and the trees—and the trees, with my arms outstretched; I shall go down as far as the Nile and there, gently, I shall glide away to death.
Rheou. Peace, O my best beloved!
Mieris [listening] I hear him—he comes. I leave you with him! Lead him to my door—love me—save me!
She attempts to go out, he leads her. Satni enters followed by Nourm, Sokiti, and Bitiou.
Nourm. Yes! Thou who art mighty!—Yes! Yes! Make me rich—I have had blows of the stick so long! I would be rich to be able to give them in my turn!—You have but to speak the magic words.
Satni [somewhat brutally] Leave me! I am no magician.
Sokiti. I, I do not ask for money. Listen not to him; he is bad. I, I only ask that you make Khames die; he has taken from me the girl I would have wed. [Satni pushes him away. Sokiti, weeping, clings to his garments] Grant it, I implore you—I implore you!—My life is gone with her—make him die, I pray you.
Satni. Leave me!
Sokiti. Hear me.
Bitiou [coming between them and striking Sokiti] Begone! Begone! He would not hear you! [Sokiti goes out] Listen—listen—you see I made him go. All—all whom you will, I shall beat them for you. Listen—if you could make me tall like you, and steady on my legs—See—here—I have hidden away, safe, three gold rings, that I stole a while since; I will give them you.
Satni. Go, take them to the high priest—
Bitiou [pitiably] I have given four to him already.
Sokiti and Nourm are conferring together. Enter Rheou. They run away, Bitiou follows, falling and picking himself up.
Rheou. What do they want of you?
Satni. They came here, following me. They believe me gifted with supernatural power, and crave miracles of me, as though I were a God, or a juggler. I am neither, and I work no miracles.
Rheou. None the less you have worked two miracles.
Satni. Not one.
Rheou. And you will work yet one more.
Satni. Never. I came hither not to perform miracles, but to prevent them.
Rheou. You will heal Mieris.
Satni. No one can heal her, nor I, nor any other.
Rheou. Give her a little hope.
Satni. How can I?
Rheou. Tell her you will invoke your God, and that some day perhaps—
Satni. I have no God. If there be a god, he is so great, so far from as, so utterly beyond our comprehension, that for us it is as though he did not exist. To believe that one of our actions, to believe that a prayer could act upon the will of God, is to belittle him, to deny him. He is himself incapable of a miracle; it would be to belie himself. Could he improve his work, he would not then have created it perfect from the first. He could not do it.
Rheou. Our ancient gods at least permitted hope.
Satni. Keep them.
Rheou. In the heart of Mieris, you have destroyed them.
Satni. Do you regret it?
Rheou. Not yet.
Satni. What would you say?
Rheou. Even if it be true that sight will never be given her, do not tell her so. Far better promise that she will be healed.
Satni. And to all the others, must I promise healing too? Because in a house I relieved a child, whose illness sprang from a cause I could remove; because a woman, ill in imagination, did cure herself by touching my garment's hem; must I then descend to play the part of sorcerer? I had behind me there, but now, a rabble of the wretched imploring me, believing me all powerful, begging for them and theirs unrealizable miracles. Should I then cheat them too, all those poor wretches, promising what I know I cannot give? I came hither to make an end of lies, not to replace them with others.
Rheou [with passion] Ah! You would not lie. You would not lie to the wretched. You would not lie to Mieris. You would lie to no one, is it so?
Satni. To no one.
Rheou. We shall see! [Calling right] Yaouma!—Let them send Yaouma! [To Satni] Not to her either, then? Good; if you speak the truth to her, if you deny that you have supernatural power, if you force her to believe you had no hand in the miracle that saved her yesterday, she will give herself to the priests, or she will kill herself! What will you do?
Yaouma enters, she tries to prostrate herself before Satni, who prevents her. In the meantime the Steward greatly moved has come to whisper to Rheou.
Rheou [deeply moved] He is there!
Steward. In person.
Rheou. 'Tis an order of the Pharaoh then?
Steward. Yes.
Rheou. I am troubled.
He goes out with the Steward.
Satni [to Yaouma] What is it ails you? Why are you so sad?
Yaouma. You will want nothing more of me, now that you are a god.
Satni. Be not afraid: I am not a god.
Yaouma. Almost. 'Tis a daughter of the Pharaoh you will marry now.
Satni. I will marry you.
Yaouma. You will swear to.
Satni. Yes.
Yaouma. By Ammon?—[Recollecting] By your god?
Satni. My god is not concerned with us.
Yaouma. Who then is concerned with us?
Satni. No one.
Yaouma. You do not want to tell me. You treat me as a child—mocking me.
Satni. Why do you need an oath? I love you, and you shall be my wife.
Yaouma [radiant] I shall be your wife!—I, little Yaouma, I shall be wife to a man whom the heavens obey!—[A pause] When I think that you loosed the thunder for my sake—
Satni. No, vain child, I did not loose the thunder.
Yaouma. Yes, yes, yes—I understand. You want no one to know that you have found the book of Thoth—fear not, I know how to hold my peace. [Coaxingly she puts her arms round Satni's neck and rubs her cheek against his] Tell me, how did you find it?
Satni. I have not found the book of magic spells; besides, it would have profited me nothing.
Yaouma. Sit—you would not sit? They say 'tis shut up in three caskets, hidden at the bottom of the sea.
Satni. I tell you again I neither sought, nor found it.
Yaouma. What do you do then, to strike fire from heaven?
Satni. I did not strike fire from heaven.
Yaouma [crossly] Oh! I do not love you now!—Yes, yes, yes, I love you! [A pause] So it pleased you then, when you were going away in the galley, to see me run barefoot on the bank—?
Satni. Yes.
Yaouma [angry] But speak! speak! [Checking herself, then more coaxing still] You wanted to weep? No? You said you did. For my part I know not, then, I could see nothing. But the day of your return, when you learned I was chosen for the sacrifice, then, then I saw your eyes—You love me—You said to me you would prevent me going to the Nile. I believed you not—you remember—Why! even yesterday, yes, yesterday again, in spite of all your words, I was resolved to escape and go to the temple. It needed this proof of your power!—tell me, it was you who shook the heavens and the earth for me.
Satni. No.
Yaouma. Again!—You must think but little of me, to believe I should reveal what you bade me keep secret. [She lays her hands on Satni's cheeks] It was you, was it not?
Satni. No, no, no! a thousand times no!
Yaouma. It was your gods then, your gods whom I know not.
Satni. No.
Yaouma. Who was it then?
Satni. No one.
Yaouma [out of countenance] No one! [A pause] You possess no power that other men have not?
Satni. No.
Yaouma [the same] You seem as one speaking truth.
Satni. I speak the truth.
Yaouma. 'Tis a pity!
Yaouma. It would have been more beautiful. [A long grave pause] To go in the barge, on the Nile, that too had been more beautiful.
Rheou and the Steward enter
Rheou [agitated] Go in, Yaouma. [To the Steward] Conduct her to her mistress—and make known to her what has passed. [Yaouma and the Steward go out] Satni, terrible news has come to me: the Pharaoh, finding the people's enmity increase against him, has taken fright, and striking first, the blow has fallen on me. My goods are confiscated. I am sent to exile. The palace Chamberlain, but now, brought me the order to quit my house to-day, and deliver myself to the army leaving for Ethiopia.
Satni. Can you do nothing against this order?
Rheou. Yes. I can kill those who gave it.
Satni. Kill!
Rheou. Listen. I bring you the means to win the triumph of your ideas, and at the same time serve my cause. I can arm all the dwellers on my lands. We two must lead them. They will follow you, knowing you all powerful. Nay, hear me—wait. The soldiers, who fear you, will not dare resist us, we shall kill the high priest, the Pharaoh if need be—we shall be masters of Egypt.
Satni. I would not kill.
Rheou. So be it. Enough that you declare yourself ready to repeat the miracle of yesterday.
Satni. I would not lie.
Rheou. If you would neither kill nor lie, you will never succeed in governing men.
Satni. I would fight the priests of Ammon, not imitate them.
Rheou. You will never triumph without doing so. Profit by events. Do not deny the power they believe to be yours. Men will not follow you, if you speak only to their reason. You are above the crowd by your learning; that gives you rights. You would lead them to the summits; to get there, one must blindfold those who suffer from dizziness.
Satni. I refuse.
Rheou. One would think you were afraid of victory!
Satni. Rheou, 'tis not the victory of my ideas you seek, 'tis your own vengeance, your own ambition.
Rheou. They wish to rush the people of Egypt into an unjust and useless war. They hesitate; they feel the people lacking zest, that is why they have delayed the going of the army till the feast of Prodigies. To-morrow they will make the goddess speak, and all those poor creatures will be led away. You can save thousands of lives by sacrificing a few.
Satni. I refuse. The truth will prevail without help from cruelty or falsehood.
Rheou. Never. The crowd is not a woman to be won by loud wooing, but one who must be taken by force, whom you must dominate before you can persuade.
Satni. Say no more, Rheou, I refuse.
Rheou. Blind! Fool! Coward!
Mieris enters, led by Yaouma. A moment later some men—Bitiou, Sokiti, Nourm.
Mieris. Rheou!—where are you? where are you? [Yaouma leads her toward him] It is true, this that I hear?—Exile—Misery?
Rheou. It is true.
Mieris. Courage—As for me, a palace or a cottage—I know not the one from the other.
Rheou. [to Satni] Satni, can you still refuse?
Satni. You torture me! No, I will not be credited with power that is not mine; to stir men up against their fellows—I would not kill, I tell you.
Mieris. I understand you, Satni—it is wrong to kill!—But look once more upon me—I am poor now, I am going away, will you not consent to heal me?
Satni [anguished] Mieris—Could I have healed you, would it not be done already?
Mieris. You can do it! I know you can do it! Work a miracle.
Yaouma. A miracle! Show that your god is more powerful than our gods.
A Man [who has just entered] Heal us!
Satni. I am not able.
Another. Work a miracle.
Satni. There are no miracles!
A Man. Then your gods are less mighty than ours.
Satni. Yours do not exist.
The People [terrified at the blasphemy] Oh!
A Man. Why do you lead us away from our gods, if you have no others to give us?
Another. You shall not insult our gods!
Another. We will hand you over to the priests lest the gods smite us for hearing you!
Another. Ammon will chastise us!
Satni. No.
A Man. Isis will abandon us!
Satni. It will not make you more wretched.
Another. Then show us you are stronger than our gods.
Mieris. A miracle!
Rheou. He is stronger than our gods!} Yaouma. A miracle or I die!} [Together]
Satni. You demand it! You demand a miracle. Well, then, you shall have one, I will do this, but in the presence of all! Go! go! go throughout the domains—bring hither those you find bowed on the earth, or hung to poles for drawing water. Go you others, summon the slaves, the piteous workers—call hither the drawers of stones, bid them drop the ropes that flay their shoulders, bid them come.
Mieris. What would you do?
Satni. Convince them.
Mieris. Now of a sudden, brutally?
Satni. Brutally.
Rheou. Do you believe them ready?
Satni. You are afraid.
Rheou. Day comes not suddenly on night, between them is the dawn.
Delethi leads Mieris right under the peristyle.
Satni. I would have day, broad daylight—Now, at once, for all! 'Tis a crime to promise them reward for their suffering. How do we know that they will ever be paid?
Rheou. They are so miserable—
Satni. The truth—is the truth good only for the rich? Will you add that injustice to all the others? Behold them! [Gradually the slaves and workers of all kinds have entered till they fill the stage. Amongst them Pakh, Sokiti, Bitiou the Dwarf] Yes, behold them, the victims, behold the wretched! I know you all. You, you are shepherd, you are worse nourished than your flocks, and your beasts, at least, are not given blows. They do not beat the cows nor the sheep. You, you sow and you reap; beneath the sun, tortured by flies, you gather abundant crops. You sleep in a hole. Others eat the corn you made grow, and sleep on precious stuffs. You, you are forever drawing water from the Nile; betwixt you and the ox they harness to another machine, there is no difference, and yet you are a man. You, you are one of those who drag great stones, to build the monuments of pride. You are a digger in the tombs, you live a month or more without sight of day. To glorify the death of others, you give your life. You are a trainer of lions for war; your father was eaten—they would have wept had the lion died—How can it be that you accept all this, when you see beside you happiness without work, and abundance without effort? I will tell you. 'Tis because, in the name of the god Ammon-Ra, they have said to you: "Have patience, this injustice will last but a life-time." Fools! nothing but that! All the time you are on earth, suffer, produce for others. Content ye with hunger, you who produce food. Content ye with worse usage than the swine, you who have guard of them. Content ye to sleep in the open, you who build palaces and temples. Content ye with all miseries, you carvers of gold, and setters of precious stones. Look without envy, without anger, on the welfare of those who do nothing, all this will last only the whole of your lives! After, in another world, you shall have the fulness of all the crops, and the joy of all the pleasures. Well, they lied to you: there is no island of souls, there are no happy fields, there is no life of atonement after this. [Loud murmurs] They have set up these gods for your servile adoration; they have counselled you: "Bow down, these gods will avenge you." They have said: "Prostrate yourselves, these gods are just." They have said: "Throw yourselves to earth, these gods are good." They have declared them all powerful; shut them in sanctuaries of awful gloom, whence you are shown them once a year, to keep alive your terror of the Gods; and last, they have made you believe no man may touch these images and live. I tell you they lied—I will show you they lied to you. Behold the most mighty Ammon—the father of the gods—I spit my hate at him! Thou art but an idol; I curse thee for evil men have done in thy name! I curse thee in the name of all the enslaved, in the name of all those they have cheated with hopes of an avenging life; in the name of all who for thousands of years have groaned and wept; suffered insult, outrage, blows, death, without thought of revolt, because promises made in thy name had soothed their rage to sleep! And I curse thee for the sorrow that now fills me, and for the ills that must come even of thy going! Die! [He throws a stool in the face of the statue] You others do as I. Go, climb their pedestals! Lay hold of their hands, they are lifeless! Strike, 'tis but an image! Spit in their faces, they are senseless! Strike! Ruin! All this is nothing but hardened mud!
The crowd which had punctuated the words of Satni with cries and murmurs has approached the statues behind him and followed his example, blaspheming, and howling with fury. The more courageous begin, being hoisted to the pedestals, the rest follow suit. The gods are overthrown.
Rheou. Now, let them open my granaries, that each may help himself; and take from my flocks to sate you all.
Cries of joy, they go out slowly. Bitiou in the meantime approaches an overthrown statue and still half-afraid, kicks it. He tries to run, falls, picks himself up, then seeing that decidedly there is no danger, seats himself on the stomach of the goddess Thoueris and bursts into a peal of triumphant bestial laughter.
Bitiou. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Then he perceives the little statue of Isis which Mieris shields with her arms, points it out to a couple of men who advance to it.
Delethi. Mistress, they would take Isis!
Mieris [in tears] Let me keep her—
Rheou. No, Mieris.
Mieris [letting go] Take her—[Then] Stay!
Rheou. Wherefore?
Mieris. Can you part from her, and feel nothing? Even now, Satni, in denouncing the gods to the fury of the crowd, you did not say everything—You, who can see her, behold this little image, think how many tears were shed before her, in the years since she was made. She has been ours for generations. Call up the countless crowds of those who have fixed their anxious looks upon her eyes, dead even as mine are. It is for all the anguish she has looked upon, we must respect her. Tears make holy. I doubt not you are right: she must be broken too—but not without farewell. [To Yaouma] Where is she, Yaouma? I would say my last prayer to her. [To the statue] Oh, them who didst not heal, but didst console me; O thou who hast heard so many entreaties and thanksgivings, thou art but clay! Yet men have given thee life; thy life was not in thee, it was in them—and the proof is that thou diest, now they have taken their soul from thee. I give thee over to those who would break thee, but I revere thee, I salute thee, and I thank thee for all the hope thou hast given me; and I thank thee in the name of all the sorrows that thou hast sent to sleep. [To the men] Take her hence—let them destroy her with respect.
They take Isis away.
Satni. There is nothing so sad or so great as the death of a god! [A pause. To Yaouma, who comes through the crowd] Behold, Yaouma! The gods are dead and I live—behold them! Do you believe me—do you believe me?
Sadly Yaouma looks at the broken statues, then bursts into tears before Satni, who stands amazed.