Mieris [gently] Leave me, Yaouma—I shall be able to find my way to her, alone.
Yaouma. Yes mistress.... [Nevertheless, she goes with her noiselessly].
Mieris [smiling] I can feel you do not obey. Be not afraid. [She has come as far as the little statue of Isis] You see, I do not lose my way. I have come every day to bring her flowers, a long, long time.... Leave me.
Yaouma. Yes, mistress.
She withdraws.
Mieris [touching the statue in the manner of the blind] Yes, thou art Isis. I know thy face, and I can guess thy smile. [She takes some of the flowers which she has laid beside her and lays them one by one on the pedestal of the statue] Behold my daily offering! I know this for a white lotus flower. It is for thee. I am not wrong, this one, longer, and with the heavier scent, is the pink lotus. It is for thee. And here are yet two more of these sacred flowers. At dawn, they come from out the water, little by little. At midday they open wide. And when the sun sinks they, too, hide themselves, letting the waters of the Nile cover them like a veil. Men say they are fair to see. Alas, I know not the beauty of the gifts I bring! Here is a typha ... here an alisma; and by the overpowering perfume, this, I know, is the acacia flower. I have had them tell me how the light, playing through the filmy petals, tints them with color sweet unto the eyes. May the sight gladden thine! I know not the beauty of the gifts I bring! But all the days of my life, a suppliant I shall come, and weary not to ply thee with my prayers, until in the end thou absolve me, until thou grant me the boon that all save I enjoy, to behold the rays of the shining God, of Ammon-Ra, the Sun divine. O Isis, remember the cruel blow that did befall me! I had a little child. Unto him sight was given, and when he first could speak, it was life's sweetest joy, to hear him tell the color and the form of things. He is dead, Isis! And I have never seen him—Take thou my tears and my prayer, bid this perpetual night, wherein I scarce can breathe, to cease—And if thou wilt not, deliver me to death—She-who-loves-the-silence, and after the judgment I may go to Amenti, and find my well-beloved child—find him, and there at last behold his face. Isis, I give thee all these flowers. [She rises] Come, Yaouma. [As she is about to go, she stops, suddenly radiant] Stay—I hear—yes! Go, bring the ewer and the lustral water. It is the master—He is here.
Yaouma goes out, but returns quickly. Enter Rheou.
Mieris. Be welcome unto your house, master!
Yaouma pours water over the hands of Rheou and gives him a towel.
Rheou. Gladly I greet you once more in your house, mistress! [Pakh appears, returning to look for his hod] [To Pakh] Well! potter, do you not go to meet your son?