SITTAH.

Oh, what a man he is,
Dear Recha!

RECHA.

Is he not?

SITTAH.

He never fails
To hit the mark.

RECHA.

Yes, yes; and yet this father----

SITTAH.

What ails you, love?

RECHA.

This father----

SITTAH.

Oh my God!
You're weeping.

RECHA.
And this father--it must forth--
My heart wants room, wants room----
(_Throws herself in tears at_ Sittah's _feet_.)

SITTAH.

What ails you, Recha?

RECHA.

Yes, I must lose this father!

SITTAH.

Lose him--never!
Why so? Be calm. Courage! it must not be.

RECHA.

Your offer to be friend and sister to me
Will now not be in vain.

SITTAH.

Yes, I am both.
Arise, arise, or I must call for help.

RECHA.

O pardon! I forget, through agony,
With whom I speak. Tears, sobbing, and despair
Are naught with Sittah. Reason, calm and cool,
Is over her alone omnipotent.
No other argument avails with her.

SITTAH.

Well, then?

RECHA.

My friend and sister, suffer not
Another father to be forced on me.

SITTAH.

Another father to be forced on you!
Who can do that, or wish to do it, love?

RECHA.

Who but my good, my evil genius, Daja?
She can both wish it and perform the deed.
You do not know this good, this evil Daja.
May God forgive her, and reward her, too,
For she has done me good and evil, both.

SITTAH.

Evil? Then she has little goodness left.

RECHA.

Oh, she has much.
SITTAH.