[Music and laughter heard within the palace. The doors fly open and a flood of men and women, dancers, players, flushed with wine, dishevelled, pour down the steps, KHAMMA and NUBTA with them. They crown the image with roses and dance around it. RUAHMAH is discovered crouching beside the arbour. They drag her out before the image.]
NUBTA:
Look! Here's the Hebrew maid,--
She's homesick; let us comfort her!
KHAMMA: [They put their arms around her.]
Yes, dancing is the cure for homesickness.
We'll make her dance.
RUAHMAH: [She slips away.]
I pray you, let me go!
I cannot dance, I do not know your measures.