If heaven doesn't rescue me, I'm dead and
done for, with not a soul to look to for aid! Oh, how miserable
my own heedlessness makes me! Oh! how I dread what will happen
to my back, if my mistress finds out I've been so negligent!
[thinking] Surely I had that little casket in my hands
and received it from her here in front of the house--and where
it is now I don't know, unless I dropped it somewhere about here,
as I suspect. [to audience] Dear gentlemen, dear spectators,
do tell me if anyone of you saw him, the man who carried it off
or who picked it up. Did he go [pointing] this way, or
that? [pauses, then indignantly] I'm none the wiser for
asking or pestering them--the creatures always enjoy seeing a
woman in trouble! Now I'll [scans the ground] examine
the footprints here, in case I can find any. For if no one passed
by after I went inside, the casket would be lying here. [looking
about again, then hopelessly.] What am I to do? I'm done
for, I fancy! It's all over, my day has come, unlucky, fated
wretch that I am! Not a trace of it, and there won't be a trace
left of me, either! It's lost, and so I'm lost, too! But I won't
give up, though; I'll keep on looking. Oh, my heart's in a flutter
and my back's in a fright--fear on both sides driving me frantic!
What poor, poor things human beings are! Now he's happy, whoever
he is, that has it--something that's no use to him and the death
of me! But I'm delaying myself by not setting to work. To work,
Halisca! Eyes on the ground, eyes down! Track it--sharp now--like
an augur! [looks for footprints, her nose close to the ground]
He went this way . . . here's the mark of a shoe in the dust
. . . I'll follow it up this way! Now here's where he stopped
with someone else . . . Here's the scene of some sort of fracas
. . . No, he didn't go on this way . . . he stood here . . .
from here he went over there . . . A consultation was held here
. . . There are two people concerned, that's clear as day . .
. Aha! Just one person's tracks! . . . He went this way . . .
I'll investigate . . . From here he went over here . . . from
here he went-- [after an energetic and futile search]
nowhere! [with wry resignation] It's no use. What's lost
is lost--the casket and my cuticle together. I'm going back inside.
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