Clara. (Clasping her.) ’Deed I do, Rebecca. I can sympathize with you. [Rebecca cries loudly.] Listen to ecstasy, Rebecca. Wake up, chile. Rouse yo’self.
[Rebecca wipes her eyes, and both bend low, listening to the music. They walk around with hands upraised, and advance to stage front, singing the following:
Oh, we’re in love wid two spruce darkies,
Who ebry night at de hour ob nine,
Do wend deir way unto our homestead;
An’ to-night dey are both on time;
Dey call us dear and tender names,
In de canebrake down by yonder lane;
By deir handsome forms an’ winning ways,
We’re “gone,” but we are not to blame.