Woman on Her Own, False Gods and The Red Robe Part 40

STEWARD. What are you doing there? [_Striking them with the whip_] Your mistress comes! Begone!

_They go out._

_The Steward bows low before Mieris who is blind, and who enters with her arms full of flowers and led by Yaouma._

_The Steward retires._

MIERIS [_gently_] Leave me, Yaouma--I shall be able to find my way to her, alone.

YAOUMA. Yes mistress.... [_Nevertheless, she goes with her noiselessly_].

MIERIS [_smiling_] I can feel you do not obey. Be not afraid. [_She has come as far as the little statue of Isis_] You see, I do not lose my way. I have come every day to bring her flowers, a long, long time....

Leave me.

YAOUMA. Yes, mistress.

_She withdraws._

MIERIS [_touching the statue in the manner of the blind_] Yes, thou art Isis. I know thy face, and I can guess thy smile. [_She takes some of the flowers which she has laid beside her and lays them one by one on the pedestal of the statue_] Behold my daily offering! I know this for a white lotus flower. It is for thee. I am not wrong, this one, longer, and with the heavier scent, is the pink lotus. It is for thee. And here are yet two more of these sacred flowers. At dawn, they come from out the water, little by little. At midday they open wide. And when the sun sinks they, too, hide themselves, letting the waters of the Nile cover them like a veil. Men say they are fair to see. Alas, I know not the beauty of the gifts I bring! Here is a typha ... here an alisma; and by the overpowering perfume, this, I know, is the acacia flower. I have had them tell me how the light, playing through the filmy petals, tints them with color sweet unto the eyes. May the sight gladden thine! I know not the beauty of the gifts I bring! But all the days of my life, a suppliant I shall come, and weary not to ply thee with my prayers, until in the end thou absolve me, until thou grant me the boon that all save I enjoy, to behold the rays of the s.h.i.+ning G.o.d, of Ammon-Ra, the Sun divine. O Isis, remember the cruel blow that did befall me! I had a little child. Unto him sight was given, and when he first could speak, it was life's sweetest joy, to hear him tell the color and the form of things. He is dead, Isis! And I have never seen him--Take thou my tears and my prayer, bid this perpetual night, wherein I scarce can breathe, to cease--And if thou wilt not, deliver me to death--She-who-loves-the-silence, and after the judgment I may go to Amenti, and find my well-beloved child--find him, and there at last behold his face. Isis, I give thee all these flowers. [_She rises_]

Come, Yaouma. [_As she is about to go, she stops, suddenly radiant_]

Stay--I hear--yes! Go, bring the ewer and the l.u.s.tral water. It is the master--He is here.

_Yaouma goes out, but returns quickly. Enter Rheou._

MIERIS. Be welcome unto your house, master!

_Yaouma pours water over the hands of Rheou and gives him a towel._

RHEOU. Gladly I greet you once more in your house, mistress! [_Pakh appears, returning to look for his hod_] [_To Pakh_] Well! potter, do you not go to meet your son?

PAKH. I would fain go, master, but I looked upon the Nile a while ago; there is nothing in sight.

RHEOU. The galley came last night at dusk, and, by order of the priests, was kept at the bend of the river till now. Go!

PAKH. I thank you, master.

_He goes out._

RHEOU. Is all made ready for the solemn prayer to Isis? The Sun is nearing the horizon.

MIERIS. Yaouma, go and warn them all.

YAOUMA [_kneeling in supplication_] Mistress--

MIERIS [_laying her hand on Yaouma's head_] What is it?

YAOUMA. The galley.

MIERIS. Well?--Ah, yes! you were betrothed to the potter's son--But to-day you must not go forth. Who shall say you are not she whom the G.o.d Ammon will choose?

YAOUMA. The G.o.d Ammon knows not me.

MIERIS. Did he choose you, he must know you.

YAOUMA. Me! Me! A poor handmaiden--Is it then possible--truly?

MIERIS. Truly--Yaouma, go.

YAOUMA [_to herself as she goes_] The G.o.d Ammon--the G.o.d of G.o.ds--

MIERIS. Rheou, what ails you?

RHEOU [_angered_] It was a fresh insult that awaited me--

MIERIS. Insult?

RHEOU. When I came into the audience chamber I prostrated myself before the Pharaoh. "What would you?" he cried in that hard voice of his. You know 'tis the custom to make no reply, that one may seem half dead with fear before his majesty--

MIERIS. Did you not so?

RHEOU. I did, but he--

MIERIS. Have a care! Is no one there who might overhear you?

RHEOU. No one--but he, in place of ordering them to raise me up, in place of bidding me speak--Oh, the dog of an Ethiopian!--he feigned not to see me--for a long while, a long, long while--At length, when he remembered I was there, anger was choking me; he saw it; he declared an evil spirit was in me, and having ridiculed me with his pity, he bade me then withdraw. He forgets that if I wished--

MIERIS. Be still! Be still! Know you not that there, beside you, are the G.o.ds who hear you!

RHEOU [_derisively_] Oh! the G.o.ds!

MIERIS. What mean you?

RHEOU [_derisively_] I am the son of a high priest; I know the G.o.ds--The Pharaoh forgets that were I to remind the people of my father's services, were I to arm all those who work for me, and let them loose against him--

MIERIS. Rheou! Rheou!

RHEOU. Think you they would not obey me? I am son of that high priest, the Pharaoh's friend who wished to replace the G.o.ds of Egypt, by one only G.o.d. The court cannot forgive me for that. Little they dream, that were I to declare my father had appeared to me, all those who know me, all the poor folk whose backs are blistered by the tax-gatherer's whip, all who are terrorized by schemes of foreign war--all, all would take my orders as inspired, divine.

MIERIS. The fear of the G.o.ds would hold them back.

RHEOU. How long--I wonder!

MIERIS. I hear them coming for the prayer.

RHEOU. Yes. Let us pray--that they may have nothing to reproach me with before I choose my hour.

MIERIS. What hour?