he shouting of
the multitude. Another will be given to the Nile.

SATNI. Another will die, and you, you will live, for your own joy and
for mine.

YAOUMA. For my own shame and for yours.

SATNI. Light the world with your beauty. Live, Yaouma, live with me!
Bright shall your breast be with the flower of the persea, and your
tresses anointed heavy with sweet odor.

YAOUMA. The waves of the Nile will be my head-dress. Oh! fair green
robe, with flowers yet more fair.

SATNI. Yaouma, you loved me--[_She bends her head_] Remember, remember
my going away, but two years since, how you did weep when I embarked.
You ran by the bank, you followed the boat that bore me. I see you
still, the slim form, the swift lank limbs; I can hear still the sound
of your little naked feet upon the sand. And when the boat grounded--do
you remember? For hours the oarsmen pushed with long poles, singing the
while, and you clapping your hands and crying out my name. And when at
length we floated, there was laughter and cries of joy--but you, you did
stand all on a sudden still, and I knew then that you wept. You climbed
to a hillock, and you waved your arms, you grew smaller, smaller,
smaller, till we turned by a cluster of palms. Oh, how you promised to
wait for me!

YAOUMA. Have I not waited?

SATNI. We had chosen the place to build our home. Do you remember?

YAOUMA. Yes.

SATNI. And dreamed of nights when you should sleep with your head upon
my breast--[_Yaouma bends her head_] And now you seek a grave in the
slime of the river.

YAOUMA [_with fervor_] The slime of the river is holy, the river is
holy. The Nile is nine times holy. It makes grow the pasture that feeds
our flocks. It drinks the tears of all our eyes.

SATNI. Listen, Yaouma, I will reveal the truth to you. The Gods who
claim your sacrifice--the Gods are false.

YAOUMA. The Gods are true--

SATNI. They are powerless.

YAOUMA. It is their power that subdues me--it is stronger than love.
Until to-day I loved you more than all the living things upon the
earth--the breath of your mouth alone gave life to my heart. Even this
very day, I dreaded being chosen of the Gods. But now, who has so
utterly transformed me if it be not the Gods? You are to me as nothing,
now. And I who trembled at a scorpion, who wept at the pricking of a
thorn, I am all joy at the thought of dying soon. How could this be if
the Gods had not willed it?

SATNI. Hear me a little--and I can prove