Hanou. A happy day! Why then, 'tis I, perhaps, who will be chosen to-night!
Delethi [playing the harp while Nagaou dances before her] More slowly!—more slowly!... you must make them think of the swaying of a lotus flower, that the Nile's slow-moving current would bear away, and that raises itself to kiss again the waters of the stream.
Nagaou. Yes, yes.... Begin again!
Nahasi [juggling with oranges] Nagaou would let herself be borne away without a struggle. [She laughs].
Mouene [hopping on one foot] We know that she goes to the bank of the Nile, at the hour when the palm-trees grow black against the evening sky, to listen to a basket maker's songs.
Hanou [to Sitsinit] And this morning I anointed my whole body with Kyphli, mixed with cinnamon and terrabine and myrrh.
Delethi [to Nagaou] 'Tis well ... you may dance the great prayer to Isis with the rest.
Nagaou [to Mouene] Yes! I do go to listen to songs at dark. You are still too little for anyone, basket maker or any other, to take notice of you.
Mouene. You think so!... who gave me this little bird? [She draws the bird from the cage by a string attached to its leg] Who caught thee, flower-of-the-air, who gave thee to me? [Holding up a finger] Do not tell! Do not tell....
Hanou [looking at herself in a metal mirror] Sitsinit ... the black line that lengthens this eye is too short ... make it longer with your reed. I think the more beautiful I am, the more chance I shall have to be chosen for the sacrifice.... Is it not so, Zaya?... What are you doing there without a word?