(_With boy’s passion._) Oh, Nefertiti, the wild sweetness of the desert is in your breath! To me you are holy as our sacred River! May the Gods grant you all your heart’s desire. Sethos is your slave for ever--even though his heart should break. [_Exit, slowly, looking back._ _Nefertiti_ (_Smiling to herself._) A slave is always useful--for slavish purposes. I may put you to the test some day! [_She watches him out of sight behind the palms, then goes to the water’s edge and splashes idly with her bare foot several times in succession, accompanying each splash with a remark._ He’ll bury himself in the Temple.… He’ll bury himself in my arms.… He’ll become a monk at Rames’ bidding.… He’ll become mine. (_Makes biggest splash of all._) I’ve got him … under this very foot! (_Hears his footstep._) _Menophis_ (_Entering._) You here! Nefertiti! (_She pretends not to hear. She is worshipping._) Nefertiti! _Nefertiti_ (_Startled._) Menophis! _Menophis_ You worship here at dusk … beside the Nile! _Nefertiti_ I often come at sunset--as you know. _Menophis_ I … had … forgotten. _Nefertiti_ Forgotten! Has some Afreet blinded you? Only last night, too, you passed me by without a glance--on your way to Aton’s new Temple. _Menophis_ It was moonless and I did not see you. No Afreet power could hide you in the sunshine. _Nefertiti_ (_Mocking._) Oh, thank you, Menophis. I thought your heart was too full perhaps to see me. _Menophis_ You have been worshipping alone--and you were lonely. Forgive me, Little Child, I---- _Nefertiti_ I forgive you, O handsome Menophis. But I was not lonely. Sethos kept me company awhile. _Menophis_ Sethos! The Syrian banker’s son! You can find pleasure in such company? _Nefertiti_ (_Softly._) You did not come here to talk with me of Sethos. You came, like me, to worship----! _Menophis_ He is rich. _Nefertiti_ He is forgotten too. When you call me “Little Child” the whole world is forgotten. There is only--You. _Menophis_ Little … Child. _Nefertiti_ (_Goes closer._) Your eyes seem strange to me to-night: they look far away into space. Your voice sounds distant like the desert jackal’s cry. (_She puts a hand on his and looks searchingly into his eyes._) Yet you call me Little Child, as of old, when we met here every evening in the dusk … to play and talk and dream together … of the future. Menophis (_taking his other hand and drawing her body closer to him_), will you not tell me--your Little Child--this sacred night when the Tear of Isis bids our river rise--tell me what wonderful new dream has crept into this faithful heart? (_Lowers her head as though to hear its beating._) I hear another music in your blood. (_Lifts her face to his._) And it is … beautiful. (_Waits for his reply._) _Menophis_ It is the Sacred Night. That means--Had you forgotten? _Nefertiti_ (_Alarmed, but half teasing._) Oh, you Solemnity! Forgotten what? _Menophis_