Wife.
She wants to enter. Hast thou not the key!
Gardener (looking up).
Aye, that I have, and since she is the mistress,
She must be served before she opes her lips.
[He goes to the gate and unlocks it. Sobeide
enters, the old slave behind her. The
gardener locks the gate. Sobeide walks
forward with absent look, the old slave
following. The gardener walks past her,
takes off his straw hat, and is about to
return to his work. The wife stands a few
paces to the rear, parts the bushes curiously.]
Sobeide.
Pray tell me, is the pond not here at hand,
The big one, with the willows on its banks?
Gardener (pointing to the right).
Down there it lies, my mistress, thou canst see it.
But shall I guide thee?
Sobeide (with a vehement gesture).
No, no, leave me, go!
[She is about to go off toward the right; the
old slave catches her dress and holds her
back. She turns. Old Slave holds out his
hand like a beggar, but withdraws it at
once in embarrassment.]
Sobeide.
What?
Old Slave.
Thou art at home, I'm going back again.
Sobeide.
Oh yes, and I have robbed thee of thy sleep,
And give thee naught for it. And thou art old
And poor. But I have nothing, less than nothing!
As poor as I no beggar ever was.