CONTENTS

She laughs. Rosa comes over from the direction of the city. Her hair is disheveled, almost covering her black, flashing eyes; her face is smeared with something black, and she is dressed wretchedly. She walks with a youthful and stately gait, but on noticing the strange man, she stoops like an old woman.

SARAH.

Here, here is Rosa; look, sir! My God, how ugly she is. David cries every time he sees her.

ROSA.

CONTENTS

Offended, straightens herself.

There are uglier women than I am.

SARAH.

CONTENTS

Persuasively.

What are you saying, Rosa? There is no uglier girl than you in the whole world. (Whispers entreatingly.) Hide your beauty, Rosa. A robber has come, Rosa,—hide your beauty! At night I will wash your face myself, I will comb your braids myself, and you will be as beautiful as a heavenly angel, and we will all pray to you. A robber has come, Rosa. (Aloud.) Did they throw stones at you again?

ROSA.

CONTENTS

Hoarsely.

Yes, they did.

SARAH.

And the dogs attacked you, too?

ROSA.

Yes, they did.—

 Prev. P 19/153 next