[She stands up again, steps back, and looks
at him in fearful suspense.]
Ganem (stands motionless before her.)
Thou!
Sobeide (in breathless haste).
I belong to thee, am thine, my Ganem!
Ask me not now how this has come to pass:
This is the centre of a labyrinth,
But now we stand here. Wilt thou not behold me!
He gave me freedom, he himself, my husband ...
Why does thy countenance show such a change?
Ganem.
No cause. Come hither, they may overhear us ...
Sobeide.
I feel that there is something in me now
Displeases thee. Why dost thou keep it from me?
Ganem.
What wouldst thou?
Sobeide.
Nothing, if I may but please thee.
Ah, be indulgent. Tell me my shortcomings.
I will be so obedient. Was I bold?
Look thou, 'tis not my nature so; I feel
As if this night had gripped me with its fists
And flung me hither, aye, my spirit shudders
At all that I had power there to say,
And that I then had strength to walk this road.
Art sorry that I had it?
Ganem.
Why this weeping?
Sobeide.
Thou hast the power to change me so. I cannot
But laugh or weep, or blush or pale again
As thou wouldst have it.
[Ganem kisses her.]