YAOUMA. Isis, show thyself! Have pity! [_A pause. Then in a hushed voice_] Mistress, I think she is going to appear to me again!--Isis!--mistress--do you hear-- MIERIS [_listening_] I hear nothing. YAOUMA. Singing--the sound of harps--'tis she-- MIERIS. I do not hear-- YAOUMA. She speaks! Yes--goddess! MIERIS. Do you see her? YAOUMA [_in ecstasy_] I see her! She is bending down above us-- MIERIS. O goddess!-- YAOUMA. She is gone--Mistress, you could not see her, but did you hear the sound of her feet? MIERIS. Yes, I believe I heard it--I believe and I am comforted. YAOUMA. I am happy! To the temple! She beckoned me! To the temple! Come! _They go up. Rheou meets them and leads them away. Satni enters with some men bearing Pakh, who is wounded. Kirjipa almost swooning follows, supported by some women who lead her into the house. The Exorcist, who with his two assistants follows Pakh, takes some clay from a coffer carried by one of his men, shapes it into a ball, and begins, then, the incantation._ EXORCIST. Pakh! Son of Ritii! Through thy wound an evil spirit has entered thee. I am about to speak the words that shall drive him out: "The virtues of him who lies there, and who suffers, are the virtues of the father of the gods. The virtues of his brow are the virtues of the brow of Thoumen. The virtues of his eye are the virtues of the eye of Horus, who destroys all creatures." _A pause._ PAKH. Begone! EXORCIST. His upper lip is Isis. His lower lip is Neptes, his neck is the goddess, his teeth are swords, his flesh is Osiris, his hands are divine souls, his fingers are blue serpents, snakes, sons of the goddess Sekhet-- PAKH. Begone! I no longer believe in your power! EXORCIST [_taking a doll from the coffer_] Horus is there! Ra is there! Let them cry to the chiefs of Heliopolis-- PAKH. Have done! _He knocks down the doll which the Exorcist holds over him. The music stops suddenly._ EXORCIST. The evil spirits are strongest in him. He will die. Only his son has the right to be with him at death. _All go out save Pakh and Satni._ SATNI. My father-- PAKH. You are there, my son--'tis well--I am glad--that that maker of spells is gone. [_Simply_] Heal me. SATNI. Yes, father, you shall be healed. But you must have patience. PAKH [_simply_] Heal me, now, at once. SATNI. I cannot. PAKH. Why do you not want to heal me?--See you not that I am wounded--I suffer--come, give me ease-- SATNI. I would give all, that it were in my power to do so. PAKH. You know prayers that our priests know not-- SATNI. I know no prayers. PAKH [_in anguish_] You are not going to let me die? SATNI. You will not die--have confidence. PAKH. Confidence? In what? [_A pause_] You cannot heal me? SATNI. I cannot.