SOBEIDE (standing at some distance from her). No, no, I am not mad. Oh, be not angry. The dogs are after me! But first a man. I'm almost dead with fear. He is my friend, Will tell you who I am. Ye do not know How terror can transform a human being. I ask you, are not all of us in terror Of even drunken men? This was a murd'rer. I am not brave, but with a lie that sped Into my wretched head I held him off Awhile--then he came on, and I could feel His hands. Take pity on me, be not angry! Ye sit there at the table fair with candles, And I disturb. But if ye are his friends, Ask him to tell you all. And later on, When we shall meet and ye shall know me better, We both will laugh about it. But as yet (Shuddering.) I could not laugh at it. GUeLISTANE (turning to her). Who is thy friend, and who will tell us all? SOBEIDE (with innocent friendliness). Why, Ganem. GUeLISTANE. Oh, what business hast thou here? SOBEIDE (steps closer, looks fixedly at her). What, art thou not the widow Of Kamkar, the ship-captain? GUeLISTANE. And thou the daughter Of Bachtjar, the gem-dealer? [They regard each other attentively.] SOBEIDE. It is long since We saw each other. GUeLISTANE. What com'st thou here To do? SOBEIDE. Then thou liv'st here?--I come to question Ganem (Faltering.) About a matter--on which much depends-- Both for my father-- GUeLISTANE. Hast not seen him lately? Ganem, I mean. SOBEIDE. Nay, 'tis almost a year. Since Kamkar died, thy husband, 'tis four years. I know the day he died. How long hast thou Lived here? GUeLISTANE. They are my kin. What is't to thee, How long? But then, what odds? Why then, three years. [SOBEIDE is silent.] GUeLISTANE (to the slave). Look to't that nothing fall. Hast thou the mats? (To SOBEIDE.) For it may be, if one were left to lie And Ganem found it, he would take the notion To bed his cheek on it, because my foot Had trodden it, and then whate'er thou spokest, He would be deaf to thine affair. Or if He found the pin that's fallen from my hair And breathing still its perfume: then his senses Would fasten on that trinket, and he never Would know thy presence. (To the slave.) Pick it up for me. Come, bend thy back.