[She rises.]
I will go now; prepare our evening meal;
And waken my husband, my love once.
Nubian
[Musing.] The lightning of the heavens
Lifts an apocalypse:
The dumb night’s lips are scared and wide,
The world is reeling with sound:
Was I deaf before, mute, tied?
What shakes here from lustre-seeded pomegranates