sorrow with you, I and all these (_the women surge forward_), and the
stakes shall be the people. Here is my pride that I throw down, in my
bride year to know my husband an impostor. Have you any sorrow to
match with that?

WACOBA

Since you wish a man so much, Chisera, here is mine whom the vultures
seek.

(_The women part to show the dead man stark in his blanket._)

HAIWAI

Would you have a child at your breast, Chisera, here is mine, for my
milk is dried with hunger.

(_She holds up her swaddled child which_ BRIGHT WATER _takes and
holds toward the_ CHISERA, _who stands confused, for the first
time acutely aware of their misery._)

BRIGHT WATER

(_Measuring the effect of her words._) Chisera, my breast is as
fruitless as yours--but you ... you have ... good medicine.

TIAWA

Lay hold on the gods, Chisera, these are ills from which man cannot
save us!

(_The_ CHISERA _throws out her hands to signify the loss of her
power, her blanket slips to the ground and she covers her face
with her hands._)

THE CHISERA

Gone--gone! It is gone from me!

BRIGHT WATER

(_Signing to the women to hide the blanket._)

By dancing you shall bring it back again--for the sake of the women
and children--dance, Chisera!

(_Her voice has a kindling sound, and the women echo it with a
breath._)

THE CHISERA

Oh, I have danced until the earth under me is beaten to dust, and my
heart is as dry as the dust, and all my songs have fallen to the
ground. (_She begins to walk up and down excitedly._) With what cry
shall I call on the gods, now my songs are departed? (_She begins to
chant._)

And my heart is emptied of all
But the grief of women.

(_The women watch her breathlessly; as she gradually swings into
the dance, they seem to urge her with the stress of their
anxiety._)

All the anguish of women,
It smells to the gods
As the dead after battle,
It sounds in my heart
As the hollow drums calling to battle,
And the gods come quickly.

(_As she falters the tribe surges forward._)

TRIBE

Dance, Chisera, dance!

(_She tries again and no strength comes--the men hold up their
hands, palms outward, in the sign of prayer. The drum begins
hollowly._)

Come, O my power,
Indwelling spirit!
It is I that call.
Childless, unmated--

(_Drums and rattles are brought out, at first cautiously, lest
sh