Mieris [letting go] Take her—[Then] Stay!
Rheou. Wherefore?
Mieris. Can you part from her, and feel nothing? Even now, Satni, in denouncing the gods to the fury of the crowd, you did not say everything—You, who can see her, behold this little image, think how many tears were shed before her, in the years since she was made. She has been ours for generations. Call up the countless crowds of those who have fixed their anxious looks upon her eyes, dead even as mine are. It is for all the anguish she has looked upon, we must respect her. Tears make holy. I doubt not you are right: she must be broken too—but not without farewell. [To Yaouma] Where is she, Yaouma? I would say my last prayer to her. [To the statue] Oh, them who didst not heal, but didst console me; O thou who hast heard so many entreaties and thanksgivings, thou art but clay! Yet men have given thee life; thy life was not in thee, it was in them—and the proof is that thou diest, now they have taken their soul from thee. I give thee over to those who would break thee, but I revere thee, I salute thee, and I thank thee for all the hope thou hast given me; and I thank thee in the name of all the sorrows that thou hast sent to sleep. [To the men] Take her hence—let them destroy her with respect.
They take Isis away.
Satni. There is nothing so sad or so great as the death of a god! [A pause. To Yaouma, who comes through the crowd] Behold, Yaouma! The gods are dead and I live—behold them! Do you believe me—do you believe me?
Sadly Yaouma looks at the broken statues, then bursts into tears before Satni, who stands amazed.