Some one—some one! I mean you—you opened it—and you went downstairs. Why? What were you doing while you thought I slept?
Rosa.
I did not leave my room.
Sachel.
And she will not lie for me! If you are honest, why does your voice tremble so? You were up, and why? If I miss anything;—do you want to be turned into the streets? [He hears the noise of a window opening.] Who's that? Some fresh enemy? I cannot move but some one's hand is raised against me! Enemies—enemies I cannot strike nor battle with—because I cannot see!
Rosa.
I—I am not your enemy!
Sachel.
How do I know? Have I ever looked into your eyes? Ay, if I could look into them at this moment, God knows what I should find. You are not my enemy! Why, then, were you up last night prowling about my house—at midnight—when my son—when Rafael;—Rafael—? Come here! [She comes to him.] Your hand! Was it Rafael? Did Rafael—? No, no, my beautiful boy—with such as you—an ugly, misshapen wench like you! [Pause.] Unless—unless they lied to me! Did not Esther sniff and say that you were white and thin, when we rescued you from pauperdom—when you were threatened with the streets—you thankless vagabond? They knew I would not have had you else! Rafael said that "pretty" was no word for such a face as yours; did he mean that you were beautiful;—did he mean that? Your form—yes, your form! [He passes his hand over her.] Hold still! Do you fear an old blind wreck like me? Ay, you are like a Madonna, damn you! Your face—hold still—your nose—[he passes his hand over her face]—your brow—your chin;—they lied to me! You are beautiful! It was Rafael!
Rosa.