SARAH.
Have you lost your mind, David? Don't listen to him. Wash yourself, Rosochka, wash yourself! Let all the people see your beauty!
NAUM.
Seizing the paper.
It is ours, father. Father,—this is how God has answered you. Look at mother, look at Rosa—look at me: I was already commencing to die.
PURIKES.
Shouts.
Ai, Ai, look out, they'll tear the paper. Ai, Ai, take away the paper from them, quick!
Naum cries, Rosa, radiantly beautiful, her hair wet, but no longer covering her eyes, comes over to her father, laughing.
ROSA.