No more than the gods will do to me if they hear her.
The Chisera
This is my song that I make,
I, the Chisera,
The song of the mateless woman:
None holdeth my hand but the Friend,
In the silence, in the secret places
We shall beget great deeds between us!
(As she rises on the last movement of the dance toward ecstasy, the excitement rises with her, expressing itself in short, irrepressible yelps, at the highest point of which a scream from Bright Water arrests the dancers.)
Bright Water
Chisera, the arrow, the black arrow! (Simwa shoots.)
The Chisera
(Dying.) Ah, Simwa! (Dies.)
(In the distance is heard the shout of the approaching Tecuyas.)