Mrs. O. Remember—the bride’s procession is to start at sunrise. Mind you are ready!
Mee. Hon’ble Mistless, at sunlise? Dat velly airly—dat not too soon, eh?
Mrs. O. Not if I say it’s the time you are to be ready by. When you want your bride-crown pinned on, come to me!
Mee. My blide-clown? Oh yes!... Say!... When dey put me in my lill’ chair-palanquin, will all de blin’s be down? No one to see me?
Mrs. O. Of course not. Who wants to see you? Here, go on and get dressed! You are wasting time.
[Exit Mrs. O.
Mee. Yes: me wasting time! [Pulls up blind.] Silly dat!... Nobody want to see me?... No ... nobody! Oh! run, Mee-Mee! dere’s de worl’ wakin’! [She opens door and peeps out.] Oh, gleat, big worl’, wake up!—Mee-Mee say good-bye to you! Oh, de lazy sun, all down dere, you not come up yet!—Mee-Mee say good-bye to you!... And nex’ time dat he come, you tell Tiki, you tell Tiki—Mee-Mee gone jus’ ’cause she couldn’t wait fo’ him—any mo’!... Dat’s all!... You all been velly, velly nice to me!... Good-bye.
[She shuts the door, draws out phial and stands trembling, facing the thought of death. Crossing the stage she comes on the bridal array left by Mrs. Olangtsi.
Oh! pletty, eh? Oh! Say! isn’t dat nice? What?... Quick, quick, Mee-Mee! [She begins to robe herself.] Yes, quick! Yes, quick! Yes, quick! [Puts on shoes.] Lef’, right, get dem all on! Dere! dat all right, eh? [Opens toilet-box and gets out mirror and paints.] Now, Mee-Mee, you got to make yo’self mos’ beautiful—because to-day, you say—you say you goin’ to be mallied to Tiki. And dat make you so glad, dat make you so happy, dat you laugh, an’ laugh, an’ laugh, till all de tears come into yo’ eyes! You velly silly little gel, you! [She dries her eyes and takes up mirror.] Look at yo’self! Hee-hee! [She turns the glass about and knocks on the back of it.] Mee-Mee? Mee-Mee? You round dere? You round dere?... Right in dere? [Turns it.] ’Course I is!—She in dere all de time! Catch her not? [She starts playing bo-peep with herself.] No ... no ... she dere, I say she dere!... He say once—he say, ‘silly lill’ gel know not’ing ’bout art!’ Ah, ha! Himself he know not’ing, not’ing—at all!... Himself!... Tiki, dat went away and never come back!
[She produces from hiding-place the shoes which Tikipu left behind.