Satni. I saw them.
Rheou. And you did not stop?
Satni. No.
Rheou. Why?
Satni. I have learned many things in the countries whence I come.
Rheou. You are a priest. Was not your duty to go unto the temple, even before you knelt at your father's feet?
Satni. Never again shall I enter the temple.
A long trumpet call is heard far off.
Rheou. It is the signal for the prayer.
He mounts the terrace and stretches his arms to the setting sun. Women play upon the harp and upon drums, and the double flute. Others clash cymbals and shake the sistrum. Dancers advance, slowly swaying their bodies. The rest mark the rhythm by the beating of hands.