[Her glance roves anxiously, suddenly is
fixed upon an invisible object at the left
rear.]
The tower, is it locked?
Wife.
The tower?
Sobeide.
Yes, the steps to mount it.
Wife.
No,
The tower's never locked, by day or night.
Dost thou not know?
Sobeide.
Oh yes.
Wife.
Wilt thou go up it?
Sobeide (smiling painfully).
No, no, not now. Perhaps another time.
(Smiling with a friendly gesture.)
Go, then. Go, go.