ACT III
Scene:—The yard in front of the potter's hut. On the right from the middle of the back of the scene to the footlights, the walls of the dwelling made of beaten clay. Two unequal doors. The wall is slightly raised supporting a terrace where pottery of all kinds is drying in the sun. Left, a wall of loose stones high enough to lean on. Between the wall and the house an opening leading to an invisible inclined plane that descends to the Nile, the water and opposite bank of which are visible. Behind the house and on the right groups of lofty palms. The whole is abject misery beneath the splendor of a heaven blazing with light.
Kirjipa, crouching down, is grinding corn between a large and a small stone. Satni is seated on the wall dreaming.
Kirjipa. Son.
Satni. Mother.
Kirjipa. And so you do not believe that when the moon grows little by little less, 'tis because it is eaten by a pig?
Satni. No, mother.
Kirjipa. Then what beast eats it?
Satni. None.
Kirjipa [laughing] You have ideas that are not reasonable. What makes me marvel, is that your father seems to understand them. I must haste to make the bread, that he find it when he returns.
Satni. Here comes the messenger from Rheou.
Kirjipa [horrified] The messenger of him who kills the gods.
Satni. We do not kill what has no life.
Kirjipa. I would not see him. [She picks up her corn].
Satni. Why?
Kirjipa. Brrr!—[To herself] To-morrow I shall burn some sacred herbs here. [She goes out].
The Steward enters.
Steward. Satni, I have been seeking you. Since this morning unhappy things have come to pass—
Satni. Yaouma is not in danger, or Mieris, of Rheou?
Steward. No. All three are safe in the palace.
Satni. Well?
Steward. You remember the order the master gave me this morning, after the death of the gods?
Satni. No.
Steward. Yes, to open his granaries to all.
Satni. Yes, yes, well?
Steward. When I went to obey, to my amazement I beheld the men stand by the door in earnest converse, then without entering they withdrew. This is what happened. They went to the house of the neighboring master, roused his servants and laborers, and strove to force them to overthrow the statues of his gods, and rob him of his corn. They killed his steward. Soldiers came—Nepk had been killed, others too. Then all were scattered. The master sent me to bid you reason with those whom you might find. Look! there are some who have taken refuge here! [To some men who are outside] Enter—come—Satni would speak with you!
Bitiou, Sokiti, and Nourm appear behind the wall. Bitiou comes in.
Satni [To Bitiou] Whither go you?
Steward. Whither go you? Whence come you?
Bitiou. I followed the others—
Steward. Whence come you?
Bitiou. I came back with the others, Sokiti and Nourm.
Satni. Where are they?
Bitiou. There.
Steward. Bid them enter.
Satni [going to the door] Sokiti, Nourm, come.
Sokiti and Nourm enter awkwardly.
Steward. Why do you hide yourselves?
Nourm. We do not hide from you, but from the Lybian soldiers.
Satni. Why do you fear them?
Sokiti. Because they are chasing us.
Steward. And why are they chasing you?
The three men look at each other.
Satni. Bitiou, answer.
Bitiou. Bitiou knows not.
Steward [to the others] You know it, you.
Nourm. They took us for the others.
Satni. What others?
Nourm. Perhaps they took us for the servants of the neighboring master.
Steward. They have done mischief, then, the servants of the neighboring master? [Pause] Answer—you!
Nourm [to Satni] They did that at his house, that you made us do at yours.
Steward. The priests heard of it?
Nourm. No, but the master sent for the soldiers.
Satni. Only for that!
Nourm. I know not.
Satni. Had there been nothing else, he would not have sent for the Lybian soldiers. He knew our projects—he is with us. There is something else, eh!—
Bitiou yawns loudly.
Sokiti. Yes.
Satni. What?
Sokiti [to Nourm] Tell.
Nourm. They were angered with the master. He was bad, the master.
Steward. He is hard, but he gives much to those who have nothing.
Sokiti. He gave here, that he might receive hereafter.
Nourm. After his death.
Satni. And now he gives no more?
Nourm. Nothing.
Satni. Ah!
Bitiou. Nothing—and so, all stomachs empty, very much. [He laughs].
Nourm. He gives only blows of the stick now.
Sokiti [with conviction] One cannot live on that alone.
Nourm. And so his servants asked him for corn?
Bitiou. No good—only blows of the stick.
Steward. They took the corn that was refused them?
Bitiou [laughing] Hunger! [A gesture].
Satni. You knew they were going to do that?
Sokiti. Yes.
Satni. It was for that you went to join them?
Nourm. Yes.
Steward. Why?
Nourm. It came into our heads like this: better not take corn from the good master, but take it from the bad one.
Sokiti. Justice!
Bitiou [to the Steward] You content. You still got all your corn.
He laughs, his comrades laugh with him.
Nourm. You, we like you.
Bitiou. You—good! We—good!
Sokiti. See!
Bitiou [collecting two ideas] Wait: neighboring master bad. They bad. [To the others] Heh?—Heh?—you see—Heh? Heh? [All three draw themselves up proudly and laugh] And the steward he bad, he dead—well done!
Satni. What would he say?
Sokiti [laughing] They took the steward and then—[Chokes with laughter].
Nourm. They gave him back all the blows of the stick they had had from him.
Satni. You saw that?
Nourm. Yes.
Sokiti [proudly] Me too, me too—
Bitiou. I laugh very much—because—because—Steward, very big, strong, and then when very much beaten, fell down—fell on the ground—like me! like me! He, big, he fell down just the same—he like Bitiou—I very glad. [During what follows he plays with his foot].
Steward. What they have done is bad.
Nourm. No. The steward had been happy all his life. He was old.
Sokiti. He was old. So 'tis not bad to have killed him—He had finished—He was fat—and he had lost his appetite—
Nourm. Only just, he should leave his place to another.
Satni. We must not kill.
Sokiti. What does that mean?
Nourm. Yes, kill a good one, that is bad. But kill a bad one, that is good.
Satni. And if you are mistaken?
Sokiti. No, he is bad, I kill him.
Satni. What if he be not bad, and you think him so?
Sokiti. If he were not bad, I should not think it.
Steward. You do not understand—Listen, I am not bad, am I?
Sokiti. But we do not want to kill you.
Steward. Let me speak. You remember Kob the black. He thought me bad.
Nourm. Yes.
Steward. And if he had killed me?
Sokiti. We are not blacks—
Steward. You do not understand me. Consider. He thought me bad. I am not bad. What you were saying, would justify him if he had killed me.
They consider.
Sokiti. I understand. You say: If the slave had killed me—no, it is not that.
Satni. Human life must be respected.
Gravely they make sign of acquiescence, to escape further torment. Nourm picks up a package he had brought and turns to go out unobserved.
Steward. What are you carrying there?
Nourm. Nothing, 'tis mine—
Bitiou. That is a necklace—show. [Begins to open the package].
Nourm. Yes, a necklace.
Satni. From whom did you take it?
Nourm. From the neighboring master.
Satni. Do you think you did well?
Nourm [hesitating] Why—yes.
Satni. You are wrong.
Nourm. Be not afraid, no one saw me.
Satni. It is wrong.
Nourm. No. What can wrong me, is wrong. Since no one saw me, they will not punish me. So it is not wrong.
Satni. Wrong not to you, but to the neighboring master.
Nourm. He has many others.
Sokiti. Has had them for years, he has! Nourm never had one. Not just. I, I never had, this—[He holds up a bracelet].
Satni. You have taken this bracelet!
Sokiti [delighted] It is mine.
Satni. We are content.
They laugh.
Nourm. And Bitiou—
Satni and Sokiti. Yes, Bitiou—
Nourm. He took the best thing.
Steward. What?
Bitiou. A woman.
Steward. By force?
Bitiou. No woman would come willingly with Bitiou.
Sokiti. But she escaped from him.
Bitiou. Yes. [He weeps].
Satni. You must give back the necklace and this bracelet to the neighboring master.
Nourm. Give back, but he has others!
Satni. You cannot make yourself the judge of that. If you were selling perfumes, for instance, would you think it natural that a man should come and take them from you, because you had plenty and he had none?
Nourm. You tell me hard things.
Satni. You must give back this bracelet, Sokiti.
Sokiti. Yes, master.
Satni. And you the necklace.
Nourm. Yes, master.
A sorrowful pause.
Satni. See, you are sad. You perceive that you did wrong.
Satni. Ah!
Sokiti. We did wrong to tell you what we did, because you are not pleased.
Satni. 'Tis for your sake I am grieved.
Nourm. Then you have not told the truth; there is a hell, and there is an island of souls.
Satni. No.
Nourm. If the gods do not punish, and men, not having seen, do not punish either—[Pause] Well—I shall give it back.
Sokiti. I, I shall not give back. Not stolen. Another, a servant of the neighboring master stole the bracelet, not I!
Steward. Yet 'tis you who have it.
Sokiti. I took it from the other.
Steward. He let you do it?
Sokiti. Yes. Could not help it, he was wounded.
Satni. You should have succored him.
Sokiti. I did not know him.
Satni. He was a man like you.
Sokiti. There are plenty of them.
Satni. We must do good to others.
Sokiti. What good will that do to me?
Satni. You will be content with yourself.
Sokiti. I would rather have the bracelet—
Satni. It is only by refraining from doing one another harm that mankind may hope to gain happiness; nay more, only by lending one another aid. Do you understand?
Sokiti [gloomily] Yes.
Satni. And you, and you—
Nourm and Bitiou [in different tones] Yes, yes.
Steward [to Sokiti] Repeat it then.
Sokiti. If men did not steal bracelets—
Steward. Well?
Sokiti. Bracelets—[He laughs].
Satni [to Nourm] And you?
Nourm. He was wrong to take the bracelet.
Satni. Why?
Nourm. Because you are not pleased.
Satni. No, no, 'tis not for that.
Sokiti. I was not wrong—
Nourm. Yes! wait! I understand—If you steal, another may steal from you. Likewise if you kill—
Satni. Right. And why is it necessary to be good?
Nourm. Wait [To Sokiti] If you do good to one whom you know not, another who knows you not, may do good to you.
Steward. Ah!—Do you understand, Sokiti?
Sokiti. I think so.
Satni. Explain.
Sokiti [after a great effort] You do not want us to steal bracelets from you—
Satni. I do not want you to steal from any one—Do you understand?
Sokiti. No.
Steward [to Bitiou, who listens open-mouthed] And you?
Bitiou. I—I have a pain in my head—
Satni comes to the Steward. Bitiou and Sokiti slip off.
Steward. Look at them—
Satni. The tree that was bent from its birth, not in one day can you make it straight?
Steward. We must leave it what it is, or tear it down?
Satni. No, we must seek patiently to straighten it. [With feeling] And above all we must keep straight those that are young.
Cries are heard outside.
Steward. What cries are those?
Satni. Women in distress.
Yaouma enters, leading Mieris. Both are agitated.
Yaouma. Come, mistress—come—We are at the house of the potter, the father of Satni—Satni help—quick! quick! Run! your father, Satni!
Satni. Mieris, Yaouma, how come you here?
Yaouma. They will tell you—go!
Mieris. Fly to the rescue, he is wounded!—I have sent to the palace for those who drive out the evil spirits.
Yaouma. We were set upon by some men.
Mieris. He defended us—But they will kill him—go!
Satni and the Steward seize some arms left by Nourm and run out.
Mieris. Yaouma! He is wounded! Wounded in saving us—
Yaouma. Alas!
Mieris [listening] Who is there?
Nourm. I, mistress.
Mieris. Nourm! Run to the palace, bid them send hither those who drive forth the evil spirits—
Yaouma. Alas! mistress, I do fear—already he has fallen—struck to earth.
Mieris. They will save him, they will bear him hither—
Yaouma. Will they bear him hither alive?
Mieris [to Nourm] Run!—You hear!—Run to the palace, bid those who assist at the last hour be ready to come. If he have died defending us, the same honors shall be paid him as though ourselves were dead! Go! [Nourm goes out. A pause] Now, Yaouma, lead me out upon the road to the Nile.
Yaouma. Mistress, you seek to die? Many then must be your sorrows!
Mieris. Alas! Alas! Why did you discover my flight? Why did you seek me, find me, and bring me back—
Yaouma. Had I not guessed your purpose?
Mieris. What have I left to live for?
Yaouma. You have lived all these years in spite of your affliction, what is there that is changed?
Mieris. What is there that is changed! You ask me what is changed! Until now I lived in the hope of a miracle.
Yaouma. Perhaps it would never have come.
Mieris. Even at my last hour I should have still looked for it.
Yaouma. Then you would have died believing in a lie—if what they say be true.
Mieris. What matter, I had smiled as I died, thinking death but the journey to a land where my lost child was waiting for me. The death of a child! No mother ever can believe, at heart, in that. It is too unjust—too cruel to be possible. One says to oneself: it is but a separation! Oh! Satni, thy doctrines may be the truth. But they declare this separation eternal; they make the death of our loved ones final, irreparable, horrible, therefore I foretell thee this: Women will never believe them! What is there that is changed?—Yesterday, children came playing close to us. You know how their cries and laughter made me glad—the voice of one of them was like the voice of mine. I made him come, I put out my hand, in the old way. I felt, at the old height, tossed hair, and the warmth of a living body. And I did not weep, but my voice spoke in my heart and said: "Little child, thy years are as many as his, whom she-who-loves-the-silence took from me. But in Amenti, where he is, in the island of souls, he is happier than thou, for he is safe from all the ills that threaten thee. He is happier than thou. He lives beneath a sun of gold, amid flowers of strange beauty, and perfumed baths refresh him. And when she-who-loves-the-silence takes me in my turn, I shall see him, I shall see him for the first time—and I shall fondle him as I fondle thee, and none, then, may put us asunder. Go, little child, the happy ones are not on this side of the earth!" Now have I lost the hope of a better life before death, and the hope of a better life beyond as well. If you took both crutches from a cripple, he would fall. Only this twofold hope sustained me. They have taken it from me. And so, it is the end, it is the end—'tis as though I were fallen from a height, I am broken, I have no strength left to bear with life: I tell you, it is the end, it is the end!
Yaouma [with intense fervor] Mistress, they speak not the truth!
Mieris. Our gods, did they exist, would already have taken vengeance.
Yaouma. Before the outrage, already, they had taken vengeance on you.
Mieris. Good Yaouma, you would give me back my faith, you who could not keep your own.
Yaouma. Mistress, I lied to you; nothing is destroyed in me.
Mieris. You refuse to give yourself in sacrifice!—Oh, you are right....
Yaouma. I do not refuse.
Mieris. You do not?
Yaouma. No. Know you how I learned, a while ago, that you were gone?
Mieris. How?
Yaouma. I, too, was seeking to escape.
Mieris. You?
Yaouma. To go to the temple, to place myself in hands of the priests, to give to Ammon the victim he has chosen.
Mieris. Do you believe in all these fables still?
Yaouma [in a low voice] Mistress, I have seen Isis.
Mieris. Has one of her images been spared then?
Yaouma. It was not an image that I saw. It was Isis herself, the goddess—I have seen her.
Mieris. You—you have seen—what is it? I know not what you say—to see—that word has no clear sense for me.
Yaouma. She has spoken to me—
Mieris. You have heard her voice—
Yaouma. I have heard her voice.
Mieris. How! How!—You were sleeping—'twas in a dream—
Yaouma. I did not sleep. I did not dream. I saw her. I heard her. I was alone, and I wept. A great sound filled me with terror. A great light blinded me. Perfumes unknown ravished my senses. And I beheld the goddess, more beauteous than a queen. Then all was gone—
Mieris. But her voice—
Yaouma. The next day she came again, she spoke to me, she called me by name and said to me: "Egypt will be saved by thee."
Mieris. Why did you not speak of it?
Yaouma. I feared they would not believe me.
Mieris. Oh, Yaouma, how I envy you! If you but knew the ill they have done me. They have half killed me, killing all the legends and all the memories that were mine. They made me blush at my simplicity. I felt shamed to have been so easily fooled by such gross make-believes. And now, what have I gained by this revelation? My soul is a house after the burning, black, ruined, empty. Nothing is left but ruins, ruins one might laugh at. [In tears] I am parched with thirst, I hunger, I tremble with cold. They have made my soul blind, too. I cry out for help, for consolation. Oh! for a lie, some other lie, to replace the one they have taken away from me!
Yaouma. Why ask a lie? Why not forget what they have said. Why not recall what you learned at your mother's knee—Why not, yourself, set up in your heart again, those images which they threw down—
Mieris. Yes! Yes! I will do it. They have awakened my reason, and killed my faith. I shall kill my reason, to revive our gods. Though I no longer believe, I shall do the actions of believers—and, if my god be false, I shall believe so firmly in him that I shall make him true!—Yes, the lowest, the most senseless superstitions, I venerate them, I exalt—I glory in them! The ugliest, the most deformed, the most unreal of our gods, I adore them, and I bow down before their impossibility. [She kneels] Oh, I stifle in their petty narrow world, sad as a forest without birds! Air! Air! Singing! The sound of wings! Things that fly!
Yaouma [kneeling] Let me be sacrificed!
Mieris. Let me have a reason for living!
Yaouma. I would give my life to the gods who gave me birth!
Mieris. I would believe that there is some one above men!
Yaouma. Some one who watches over us!
Mieris. Who will console as with his justice!
Yaouma. Some one to cry our sorrows to!
Mieris. Yes, some one to pray to, and to thank!
Yaouma [sobbing] Oh! the pity of it, to feel we were abandoned!
Mieris [throwing herself in Yaouma's arms] I would not be abandoned!
Yaouma. We are not! Gods! Gods!
Mieris. Gods! We need gods! There are too many sorrows, it is not possible this earth should groan as it groans beneath a pitiless heaven—Ammon, reveal thyself.
Yaouma. Isis, show thyself! Have pity! [A pause. Then in a hushed voice] Mistress, I think she is going to appear to me again!—Isis!—mistress—do you hear—
Mieris [listening] I hear nothing.
Yaouma. Singing—the sound of harps—'tis she—
Mieris. I do not hear—
Yaouma. She speaks! Yes—goddess!
Mieris. Do you see her?
Yaouma [in ecstasy] I see her! She is bending down above us—
Mieris. O goddess!—
Yaouma. She is gone—Mistress, you could not see her, but did you hear the sound of her feet?
Mieris. Yes, I believe I heard it—I believe and I am comforted.
Yaouma. I am happy! To the temple! She beckoned me! To the temple! Come!
They go up. Rheou meets them and leads them away. Satni enters with some men bearing Pakh, who is wounded. Kirjipa almost swooning follows, supported by some women who lead her into the house. The Exorcist, who with his two assistants follows Pakh, takes some clay from a coffer carried by one of his men, shapes it into a ball, and begins, then, the incantation.
Exorcist. Pakh! Son of Ritii! Through thy wound an evil spirit has entered thee. I am about to speak the words that shall drive him out: "The virtues of him who lies there, and who suffers, are the virtues of the father of the gods. The virtues of his brow are the virtues of the brow of Thoumen. The virtues of his eye are the virtues of the eye of Horus, who destroys all creatures."
A pause.
Pakh. Begone!
Exorcist. His upper lip is Isis. His lower lip is Neptes, his neck is the goddess, his teeth are swords, his flesh is Osiris, his hands are divine souls, his fingers are blue serpents, snakes, sons of the goddess Sekhet—
Pakh. Begone! I no longer believe in your power!
Exorcist [taking a doll from the coffer] Horus is there! Ra is there! Let them cry to the chiefs of Heliopolis—
Pakh. Have done!
He knocks down the doll which the Exorcist holds over him. The music stops suddenly.
Exorcist. The evil spirits are strongest in him. He will die. Only his son has the right to be with him at death.
All go out save Pakh and Satni.
Satni. My father—
Pakh. You are there, my son—'tis well—I am glad—that that maker of spells is gone. [Simply] Heal me.
Satni. Yes, father, you shall be healed. But you must have patience.
Pakh [simply] Heal me, now, at once.
Satni. I cannot.
Pakh. Why do you not want to heal me?—See you not that I am wounded—I suffer—come, give me ease—
Satni. I would give all, that it were in my power to do so.
Pakh. You know prayers that our priests know not—
Satni. I know no prayers.
Pakh [in anguish] You are not going to let me die?
Satni. You will not die—have confidence.
Pakh. Confidence? In what? [A pause] You cannot heal me?
Satni. I cannot.
Pakh. All your knowledge, then, is but knowledge of how to destroy—My son!—I pray you—my blood goes out with my life—I do not want to die! I pray you—give me your hand. I seem to be sinking into night—hold me back—you will not let me die—your father! I am your father. I gave you life—hold me back—all grows dim around me—But at least do something—speak—say the incantations—[He raises himself] No! No! I refuse to die! I am not old. [Strongly] I will not! I will not! Do not let go my hand! I would live, live—All my life, I have worked, I have sorrowed, I have suffered—Satni—will you let me go before I share the peace and happiness you promised—
Satni. Oh! My father!
Pakh. You weep—I am lost, then—Yes—I have seen it in your eyes. And the silence deepens around me. To die—to die—[A long pause] And after? [Pause] And so this is a poor man's life! Work from childhood, blows. Then work, always, without profit. Only for bread. And still work. For others. Not one pleasure. We die. And 'tis finished! You came back to teach me that—Work—blows—misery—the end. [A silence] What did you come here to do? Is that your work? [Strongly] Satni, Satni! Give me back my faith! I want it! Ah! Why were you born a destroyer? Is that your truth? You are evil—you were able to prove that all was false. Prove to me now that you lied! I demand it! Give me back my faith, give me back the simple mind that will comfort me.
Satni. Do not despair—
Pakh. I despair because the happy fields do not exist—
Satni. Yes, father, yes, they exist—
Pakh. You lied, then!
Satni. I lied.
Pakh. They exist—and if I die—
Satni. If you die, you will go to Osiris, you will become Osiris.
Pakh. It is not true. 'Tis now you lie—There is no Osiris! There is no Osiris! Nothing! there is nothing—but life. I curse you, you who taught me that [He almost falls from his litter, Satni reverently lifts him up] Ah! accursed! Accursed! I die in hate, in rage, in fear. Bad son! Bad man! I curse you, come near. [Seizing him by the throat] Oh! If I were strong enough!—I would my nails might pierce your throat—Ah! Ah! accursed [He lets him go] All my life lost! All my suffering useless!—Forever—Never! Never! shall I know—Pity! [He holds out his arms to Satni and falls dead].
Satni [horror-stricken] He is dead!—[He lifts him reverently and lays him on the litter] Father! For me, too, at this moment there would have been comfort in a lie—
He weeps, kneeling by the body with his arms stretched over it. Kirjipa appears at the door of the house. She comes near, then standing upright cries out to the four points of the horizon, tearing her hair.
Kirjipa. The master is dead! The master is dead! The master is dead! The master is dead!
The five mourners appear outside, Delethi, Nazit, Hanou, Zaya, and Nagaou.
Kirjipa [with cries that are calls] The master is dead! The master is dead!
Mourners [entering] The master is dead! The master is dead!
Music till the end of the scene.
Kirjipa. O my father!
Mourners [louder and in a chant] O my master! O my father!
Kirjipa. O my beloved!
Mourners. The she-wolf, death; the she-wolf, death; the she-wolf, death, has taken him!
They rush at the body, kissing it with piercing cries. They beat their breasts, uttering long cries, after silent pauses. Kirjipa and another woman dance a hieratic dance, their feet gliding slowly over the ground. They bend to gather handfuls of earth, which they scatter on their heads as they dance. The cries are redoubled.
Kirjipa [after bowing before the corpse] Go in peace towards Abydos! Go in peace towards Osiris!
All. Towards Abydos! Towards Osiris! To the West, thou who wast the best of men!
Kirjipa. If it please the gods, when the day of eternity comes, we shall see thee, for behold thou goest towards the earth that mixeth men.
All. Towards Abydos! Towards Osiris!
They make believe to bear away the corpse; ritual movements.
Kirjipa. O my husband! O my brother! O my beloved! Stay, live in thy place. Pass not away from the earthly spot where thou art! Leave him! Leave him! Wherefore are ye come to take him who abandons me.
Mourners [in a fury of despair] Groans! Groans! Tears! Sobs! Sobs! Make, make lamentation without end, with all the strength that is given you.
The music stops.
Kirjipa [to the corpse] Despair not. Thy son is there!
They point to Satni.
All. Despair not. Thy son is there!
Delethi. When I have spoken, and after me Hanou, and after her Nazit, thy son will speak the magic words, whose power shall make thee go even unto Osiris, before the two and forty judges. They shall place thy heart in the balance, and thou shalt say: "I have done wrong to no man, I have done nothing that is abominable in the sight of the gods."
Satni [to himself] No, I will not speak the magic words.
The music begins again.
All. Despair not! Thy son is there!
Hanou. Despair not, thy son is there. When I have spoken and after me Nazit, thy son will say the magic prayers whose power shall bring thee even unto Osiris, and thou shalt say: "I have starved none, I have made none weep, I have not killed, I have not robbed the goods of the temples."
Satni [to himself] No, I will say no useless words.
All. Despair not! Thy son is there!
Nazit. Despair not! Thy son is there! When I have spoken he will say the sacred words whose power shall bring thee even unto Osiris and thou shalt say: "I did not filch the fillets from the mummies, I did not use false weights, I did not snare the sacred birds. I am pure—"
All. I am pure! I am pure!—
Kirjipa [continuing] Give to me what is my due, to me who am pure. Give me all that heaven gives, all that the earth brings forth, all that the Nile bears down from its mysterious springs. Despair not! Thy son is there! Thy son will say the sacred words!
A pause. All look at Satni.
Satni. No, I will not say words that are lies!
General consternation. Kirjipa comes to him and lays her hands on his shoulders.
Kirjipa. Speak the sacred words!
Satni. No!
Kirjipa. Accursed!
She falls in a swoon. The women press round her. Satni bursts into sobs.