PERVANEH
Shame on you, weak and shivering lover! What is pain for us?
RAFI You do not see—you do not see! Look at your hands, they shall be torn— ah, I cannot speak of it. I shall see your blood flow like wine from a white fountain drop by drop till you have painted the carpet of execution all red lilies.
PERVANEH Ah—but will not even your poor love flow deep when I set that crimson seal upon the story of our lives!
RAFI Alas, you are still dreaming: you are still blind with exaltation: your speech is a metaphor. You do not see, you have never heard the high, thin shriek of the tortured, you have not seen the shape of their bodies when they are cast into the ditch. Come near, Pervaneh. Do you know what they will do to you? Come near: I cannot say it aloud. (PERVANEH approaches.) Ah, I dare not tell you…I dare not tell you!
PERVANEH
Tell me, plain and clear.
RAFI
(Whispers in PERVANEH's ear)…
PERVANEH
(Covering her face with her hands) Ah, God—they will not do that!
No, no; they will not do that to me.
RAFI
Pitilessly.
PERVANEH
(Wildly) They will do that!—Ah, the shame of it! They will do that—
Ah the pain of it! I see! I feel! I hear! O save me, Rafi!
RAFI
Alas! Why did I tell you this?