(Enter MAMA CCACCA, L., in grey with black edges and belt.)
MAMA CCACCA.
Pitu Salla, hast thou spoken
All I told thee to that child?
PITU SALLA.
I have said all to her.
MAMA CCACCA.
And she, does she answer freely?
PITU SALLA.
She has wept and asked for pity,
Refusing to comply at all.
She will not take the virgin’s oath.
MAMA CCACCA.
And this in spite of thy advice?
PITU SALLA.
I showed her the dress she will wear,
Telling her misfortune would befall
If she refused to be a chosen one—
That she would ever be an outcast,
And for us a child accursed.
MAMA CCACCA.
What can she imagine,
Wretched child of an unknown father,
A maid without a mother,
Just a fluttering butterfly?
Tell her plainly, very plainly,
That these walls offer her a home,
Suited for outcasts such as she,
And here no light is seen.
(Exit, L.)
PITU SALLA.
Ay, my Sumac! Yma Sumac!
These walls will be cruel indeed,
To hide thy surpassing beauty.