Champagne
Dvorah
What are you talking about?
Gruna
What you hear, Her own sisters she hates—they’re prettier and younger than she. (She breathes hard.)
Dvorah
Lord of the World!
Gruna (hoarsely)
The younger one, Saril, I didn’t keep at home when her time came. I sent her out to service…
Dvorah
I cried out against that myself. Everybody was stirred up—the daughter of a scribe, a servant!
Gruna
I wanted at least to marry her off. Let her get together a bit of a dowry at least. From the potatoes and the handful of onions I deal in, one can’t accumulate much of a dowry. And her I guarded, also. Her mistresses’ husbands threw eyes at her. More than one of their sons was ready to trifle with her.
Dvorah
May their names be blotted out!
Gruna
But what is a mother for? I wore out my feet. Ten times a day I ran to her into her kitchen. I preached, cried, implored, fainted…
Dvorah
Children must be beaten. I give it to mine, too!
11
