Woman on Her Own, False Gods and The Red Robe - novelonlinefull.com
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ANOTHER. They say not. They say that great calamities are in store for us.
ANOTHER. If she answer not?
ANOTHER. Silence!
_Music. The Pharaoh's procession enters. He is conducted down left where he remains invisible to the spectators. The High Priest mounts his throne. The people prostrate themselves._
HIGH PRIEST. Ammon is great!
_A pause._
THE PEOPLE. Ammon is great!
HIGH PRIEST. The sanctuary is about to open.
VOICES. The stones will roll back! I am afraid! The G.o.ddess will appear!
We shall behold her! Hush! Hush!
_The High Priest lifts his hands to heaven._
A PRIEST [_in the recess, to some men ready to work the ropes, in a low voice_] Now!
_The men pull the ropes, the stones roll back. The crowd bow themselves flat on the ground. Those who cannot, hide their faces on their arms._
HIGH PRIEST. Rise! Behold and pray! [_A smothered cry of terror rises, women mad with terror are seized with nervous fits. They are carried out_] O G.o.ddess! Thy people adore thee, and humble themselves before thee!
ALL. Isis, we adore thee!
HIGH PRIEST. This year, once more, show to us by that miraculous sign of thy divine head, that still thou art our protectress. [_The people repeat the incantation in a murmur_] O G.o.ddess, if thou hast pity on those who suffer, thou wilt bend thy head. Pity! Pity! we suffer! The evil spirits torment us.
THE PEOPLE. We suffer! Drive forth the evil spirits!
HIGH PRIEST. Neith! Mother of the Universe! The evil spirits torment us!
Neith! Virgin genetrix! Isis, sacred earth of Egypt, bend thy head!
Sati, queen of the heavens! Bend thy head!
THE MOTHER. The soul of a dead man has entered the body of my child, O Isis! And he is dying. I hold him towards thee, Isis. Behold how he is fair, behold how he suffers. Look, he is so little. Let me keep him!
Isis! Isis! Let me keep him!
ALL. Pity! Pity!
HIGH PRIEST. Show us that thou dost consent to hear us! Isis, bend thy head!
BLIND GIRL. Open my eyes! Ever since I was born a demon held them closed. Let me see the skies of whose splendor they tell me. I am unhappy, Isis! He whom I love, he who loves me, I have not looked upon his countenance! I am unhappy, Isis!
ALL. Pity! Pity!
HIGH PRIEST. Anouke! Soul of the Universe! Pity! We are before thee like little children who are lost.
THE PEOPLE. Yes! Yes! like little children who are lost!
THE SON. For my father who is blind, Isis, I implore thee!
ALL. Isis! Father! Pity!
HIGH PRIEST. Thmei, Queen of Justice! Mirror of truth! Bend thy head!
THE YOUNG PARALYTIC. I have offered up ten lambs to thee. Let me get up and walk!
THE MAN [_with the bandaged head_] An unseen monster devours my face making me howl with pain.
PARALYZED MAN. I drag through the mire, like a beast unclean. Let me walk upright like a G.o.d.
THE TWO SONS [_of the mad woman_] Behold our mother, Isis, behold our mother, who knows us no more, who knows not herself even, and who laughs!--
THE MOTHER. Isis! Thou art a mother. Isis, in the name of thine own child, save mine. Let me not go with empty arms, bereft of my tender burden. Thou art a mother, Isis!
HIGH PRIEST. All! All! Pray! Supplicate! Fling you with your faces to the ground--yes! yes! again! Silence! She is about to answer. [_A long pause_] Your prayers are lukewarm. Your supplications need fervor! Pray!
Weep! Cry out! Cry out!
ALL. Isis! Drive out the evil spirits! Answer us! Answer us!
HIGH PRIEST. Louder! Louder!
THE PEOPLE. Sorrows! Tears! Sobs! Cries! Have pity!
HIGH PRIEST. Once more, though you die!
THE PEOPLE. Thou dost abandon Egypt! What ills will overwhelm us! Help!
Help us! Have pity!
HIGH PRIEST. Have pity! Have pity! [_bursting into sobs_] Oh! unhappy people, Isis, if thou dost abandon them.
VOICES [_amid the sobs of the others_] She hears us not! She answers not. Evil is upon us! Evil overwhelms us!
HIGH PRIEST. Desperate! We are desperate!
ALL. We are desperate!
A CRY. Her head is bending! No! Yes!
_Silence. Then a great cry of distress and disappointment._
HIGH PRIEST. O mother! O G.o.ddess!
THE MOTHER. O Isis! mother of Horus! the child G.o.d! Wilt thou let die my child? Behold him! Behold him!
YOUNG PARALYTIC. Thy heart is hard, O G.o.ddess!
