Pakh. We must—we must tell her that it is in order to repair her crown.
Sokiti. Yes. We must let her know.
They prostrate themselves before the goddess.
Pakh. Oh, Mighty One!—thou who hast given birth to the gods, pardon if our miserable hands dare to touch thee! Thy horn and thy right plume have fallen off. 'Tis to replace them.
Sokiti. We are forced to obey—O breath divine—creator of the universe.... It is to mend thee.
Pakh [rising, to Sokiti] Come!
Bitiou, the dwarf, enters; he is a poor deformed creature. When he sees Pakh and Sokiti touching the statue, he tries to run away. He falls, picks himself up, and hides in a corner. By degrees he watches and draws near during what follows. Pakh and Sokiti take the statue from its pedestal and set it upright on the ground.
Sokiti. She has not said anything.
Pakh. She must be laid on her belly.
Sokiti. Gently....