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diff --git a/17944.txt b/17944.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f9c793 --- /dev/null +++ b/17944.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2819 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The House of Rimmon, by Henry Van Dyke + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The House of Rimmon + A Drama in Four Acts + + +Author: Henry Van Dyke + + + +Release Date: March 8, 2006 [eBook #17944] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE OF RIMMON*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 17944-h.htm or 17944-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/9/4/17944/17944-h/17944-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/9/4/17944/17944-h.zip) + + + + + +THE HOUSE OF RIMMON + +A Drama in Four Acts + +by + +HENRY VAN DYKE + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: "Behold the sacrifice! Bow down, bow down!"] + + + + +New York +Charles Scribner's Sons +1908 +Copyright, 1908, by +Henry Van Dyke +All rights reserved +Published in October + + + + +THE HOUSE OF RIMMON + + + + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE + + BENHADAD: King of Damascus. + + REZON: High Priest of the House of Rimmon. + + SABALLIDIN: A Noble of Damascus. + + HAZAEL ) + IZDUBHAR ) Courtiers of Damascus. + RAKHAZ ) + + SHUMAKIM: The King's Fool. + + ELISHA: Prophet of Israel. + + NAAMAN: Captain of the Armies of Damascus. + + RUAHMAH: A Captive Maid of Israel. + + TSARPI: Wife to Naaman. + + KHAMMA ) + NUBTA ) Attendants of Tsarpi. + + Soldiers, Servants, Citizens, etc., etc. + +SCENE: _Damascus and the Mountains of Samaria._ + +TIME: _850 B. C._ + + + + +ACT I + +SCENE I + +_Night, in the garden of NAAMAN at Damascus. At the left, on a +slightly raised terrace, the palace, with softly gleaming lights and +music coming from the open latticed windows. The garden is full of +oleanders, roses, pomegranates, abundance of crimson flowers; the air +is heavy with their fragrance: a fountain at the right is plashing +gently: behind it is an arbour covered with vines. Near the centre of +the garden stands a small, hideous image of the god Rimmon. Back of +the arbour rises the lofty square tower of the House of Rimmon, which +casts a shadow from the moon across the garden. The background is a +wide, hilly landscape, with a high road passing over the mountains +toward the snow-clad summits of Mount Hermon in the distance. Enter by +the palace door, the lady TSARPI, robed in red and gold, and followed +by her maids, KHAMMA and NUBTA. She remains on the terrace: they go +down into the garden, looking about, and returning to her._ + +KHAMMA: + There's no one here; the garden is asleep. + +NUBTA: + The flowers are nodding, all the birds abed, + And nothing wakes except the watchful stars! + +KHAMMA: + The stars are sentinels discreet and mute: + How many things they know and never tell! + +TSARPI: [_Impatiently._] + Unlike the stars, how many things you tell + And do not know! When comes your master home? + +NUBTA: + Lady, his armour-bearer brought us word + An hour ago, the master will be here + At moonset, not before. + +TSARPI: + He haunts the camp + And leaves me much alone; yet I can pass + The time of absence not unhappily, + If I but know the time of his return. + An hour of moonlight yet! Khamma, my mirror! + These curls are ill arranged, this veil too low,-- + So,--that is better, careless maids! Withdraw,-- + But warn me if your master should appear. + +KHAMMA: + Mistress, have no concern; for when we hear + The clatter of his horse along the street, + We'll run this way and lead your dancers down + With song and laughter,--you shall know in time. + +[_Exeunt KHAMMA and NUBTA, laughing. TSARPI descends the steps._] + +TSARPI: + My guest is late; but he will surely come! + Hunger and thirst will bring him to my feet. + The man who burns to drain the cup of love,-- + The priest whose greed of glory never fails,-- + Both, both have need of me, and he will come. + And I,--what do I need? Why everything + That helps my beauty to a higher throne; + All that a priest can promise, all a man + Can give, and all a god bestow, I need: + This may a woman win, and this will I. + +[_Enter REZON quietly from the shadow of the trees. He stands behind +TSARPI and listens, smiling, to her last words. Then he drops his +mantle of leopard-skin, and lifts his high-priest's rod of bronze, +shaped at one end like a star, at the other like a thunderbolt._] + +REZON: + Tsarpi! + +TSARPI: + The mistress of the house of Naaman + Salutes the keeper of the House of Rimmon. + +[_She bows low before him._] + +REZON: + Rimmon receives you with his star of peace; + +[_He lowers the star-point of the rod, which glows for a moment with +rosy light above her head._] + + And I, his chosen minister, kneel down + Before your regal beauty, and implore + The welcome of the woman for the man. + +TSARPI: [_Giving him her hand, but holding off his embrace._] + Thus Tsarpi welcomes Rezon! Nay, no more! + Till I have heard what errand brings you here + By night, within the garden of the man + Who hates you most and fears you least in all Damascus. + +REZON: [_Rising, and speaking angrily._] + Trust me, I repay his scorn + With double hatred,--Naaman, the man + Whom the King honours and the people love, + Who stands against the nobles and the priests, + Against the oracles of Rimmon's House, + And cries, "We'll fight to keep Damascus free!" + This powerful fool, this impious devotee + Of liberty, who loves the city more + Than he reveres the city's ancient god: + This frigid husband who sets you below + His dream of duty to a horde of slaves: + This man I hate, and I will humble him. + +TSARPI: + I think I hate him too. He stands apart + From me, ev'n while he holds me in his arms, + By something that I cannot understand, + Nor supple to my will, nor melt with tears, + Nor quite dissolve with blandishments, although + He swears he loves his wife next to his honour! + Next? That's too low! I will be first or nothing. + +REZON: + With me you are the first, the absolute! + When you and I have triumphed you shall reign; + And you and I will bring this hero down. + +TSARPI: + But how? For he is strong. + +REZON: + By these, the eyes + Of Tsarpi; and by this, the rod of Rimmon. + +TSARPI: + Speak clearly; tell your plan. + +REZON: + You know the host + Of the Assyrian king has broken forth + Again to conquer us. Envoys have come + From Shalmaneser to demand surrender. + Our king Benhadad wavers, for he knows + His weakness. All the nobles, all the rich, + Would purchase peace that they may grow more rich: + Only the people and the soldiers, led + By Naaman, would fight for liberty. + Blind fools! To-day the envoys came to pay + Their worship to our god, whom they adore + In Nineveh as Asshur's brother-god. + They talked with me in secret. Promises, + Great promises! For every noble house + That urges peace, a noble recompense: + The king, submissive, kept in royal state + And splendour: most of all, honour and wealth + Shall crown the House of Rimmon, and his priest,-- + Yea, and his priestess. For we two will rise + Upon the city's fall. The common folk + Shall suffer; Naaman shall sink with them + In wreck; but I shall rise, and you shall rise + Above me! You shall climb, through incense-smoke, + And days of pomp, and nights of revelry, + Glorious rites and ecstasies of love, + Unto the topmost room in Rimmon's tower, + The secret, lofty room, the couch of bliss, + And the divine embraces of the god. + +TSARPI: [_Throwing out her arms in exultation._] + All, all I wish! What must I do for this? + +REZON: + Turn Naaman away from thoughts of war; + Or purchase him with love's delights to yield + This point,--I care not how,--and afterwards + The future shall be ours. + +TSARPI: + And if I fail? + +REZON: + I have another shaft. The last appeal, + Before the king decides, is to the oracle + Of Rimmon. You shall read the signs! + A former priestess of his temple, you + Shall be the interpreter of heaven, and speak + A word to melt this brazen soldier's heart + Within his breast. + +TSARPI: + But if it flame instead? + +REZON: + I know the way to quench that flame. The cup, + The parting cup your hand shall give to him! + What if the curse of Rimmon should infect + That wine with sacred venom, secretly + To work within his veins, week after week + Corrupting all the currents of his blood, + Dimming his eyes, wasting his flesh? What then? + Would he prevail in war? Would he come back + To glory, or to shame? What think you? + +TSARPI: + I? + I do not think; I only do my part. + But can the gods bless this? + +REZON: + The gods can bless + Whatever they decree; their will makes right; + And this is for the glory of the house + Of Rimmon,--and for thee, my queen. Come, come! + The night grows dark: we'll perfect our alliance. + +[_REZON draws her with him, embracing her, through the shadows of the +garden. RUAHMAH, who has been sleeping in the arbour, has been +awakened during the dialogue, and has been dimly visible in her white +dress, behind the vines. She parts them and comes out, pushing back +her long, dark hair from her temples._] + +RUAHMAH: + What have I heard? O God, what shame is this + Plotted beneath Thy pure and silent stars! + Was it for this that I was brought away + Captive from Israel's blessed hills to serve + A heathen mistress in a land of lies? + Ah, treacherous, shameful priest! Ah, shameless wife + Of one too noble to suspect thy guilt! + The very greatness of his generous heart + Betrays him to their hands. What can I do? + Nothing,--a slave,--hated and mocked by all + My fellow-slaves! O bitter prison-life! + I smother in this black, betraying air + Of lust and luxury; I faint beneath + The shadow of this House of Rimmon. God + Have mercy! Lead me out to Israel. + To Israel! + +[_Music and laughter heard within the palace. The doors fly open and a +flood of men and women, dancers, players, flushed with wine, +dishevelled, pour down the steps, KHAMMA and NUBTA with them. They +crown the image with roses and dance around it. RUAHMAH is discovered +crouching beside the arbour. They drag her out before the image._] + +NUBTA: + Look! Here's the Hebrew maid,-- + She's homesick; let us comfort her! + +KHAMMA: [_They put their arms around her._] + Yes, dancing is the cure for homesickness. + We'll make her dance. + +RUAHMAH: [She slips away.] + I pray you, let me go! + I cannot dance, I do not know your measures. + +KHAMMA: + Then sing for us,--a song of Israel! + +RUAHMAH: + How can I sing the songs of Israel + In this strange country? O my heart would break + With grief in every note of that dear music. + +A SERVANT: + A stubborn and unfriendly maid! We'll whip her. + +[_They circle around her, striking her with rose-branches; she sinks to +her knees, covering her face with her bare arms, which bleed._] + +NUBTA: + Look, look! She kneels to Rimmon, she is tamed. + +RUAHMAH: [_Springing up and lifting her arms._] + Nay, not to this dumb idol, but to Him + Who made Orion and the seven stars! + +ALL: + She raves,--she mocks at Rimmon! Punish her! + The fountain! Wash her blasphemy away! + +[_They push her toward the fountain, laughing and shouting. In the +open door of the palace NAAMAN appears, dressed in blue and silver, +bareheaded and unarmed. He comes to the top of the steps and stands +for a moment, astonished and angry._] + +NAAMAN: + Silence! What drunken rout is this? Begone, + Ye barking dogs and mewing cats! Out, all! + Poor child, what have they done to thee? + +[_Exeunt all except RUAHMAH, who stands with her face covered by her +hands. NAAMAN comes to her, laying his hand on her shoulder._] + +RUAHMAH: [_Looking up in his face._] + Nothing, + My lord and master! They have harmed me not. + +NAAMAN: [_Touching her arm._] + Dost call this nothing? + +RUAHMAH: + Since my lord is come. + +NAAMAN: + I do not know thy face,--who art thou, child? + +RUAHMAH: + The handmaid of thy wife. These three years past + I have attended her. + +NAAMAN: + Whence comest thou? + Thy voice is like thy mistress, but thy looks + Have something foreign. Tell thy name, thy land. + +RUAHMAH: + Ruahmah is my name, a captive maid, + The daughter of a prince in Israel,-- + Where once, in olden days, I saw my lord + Ride through our highlands, when Samaria + Was allied with Damascus to defeat + Asshur, our common foe. + +NAAMAN: + O glorious days, + Crowded with life! And thou rememberest them? + +RUAHMAH: + As clear as yesterday! Master, I saw + Thee riding on a snow-white horse beside + Our king; and all we joyful little maids + Strewed boughs of palm along the victors' way; + For you had driven out the enemy, + Broken; and both our lands were friends and free. + +NAAMAN: [_Sadly._] + Well, they are past, those noble days! The friends + That fought for freedom stand apart, rivals + For Asshur's favour, like two jealous dogs + That snarl and bite each other, while they wait + The master's whip, enforcing peace. The days + When nations would imperil all to keep + Their liberties, are only memories now. + The common cause is lost,--and thou art brought, + The captive of some mercenary raid, + Some profitable, honourless foray, + To serve within my house. Dost thou fare well? + +RUAHMAH: + Master, thou seest. + +NAAMAN: + Yes, I see! My child, + Why do they hate thee so? + +RUAHMAH: + I do not know, + Unless because I will not bow to Rimmon. + +NAAMAN: + Thou needest not. I fear he is a god + Who pities not his people, will not save. + My heart is sick with doubt of him. But thou + Shalt hold thy faith,--I care not what it is,-- + Worship thy god; but keep thy spirit free. + Here, take this chain and wear it with my seal, + None shall molest the maid who carries this. + Thou hast found favour in thy master's eyes; + Hast thou no other gift to ask of me? + +RUAHMAH: [_Earnestly._] + My lord, I do entreat thee not to go + To-morrow to the council. Seek the King + And speak with him in secret; but avoid + The audience-hall. + +NAAMAN; + Why, what is this? Thy wits + Are wandering. Why dost thou ask this thing + Impossible! My honour is engaged + To speak for war, to lead in war against + The Assyrian Bull and save Damascus. + +RUAHMAH: [_With confused earnestness._] + Then, lord, if thou must go, I pray thee speak,-- + I know not how,--but so that all must hear. + With magic of unanswerable words + Persuade thy foes. Yet watch,--beware,-- + +NAAMAN: + Of what? + +RUAHMAH: [_Turning aside._] + I am entangled in my speech,--no light,-- + How shall I tell him? He will not believe. + O my dear lord, thine enemies are they + Of thine own house. I pray thee to beware,-- + Beware,--of Rimmon! + +NAAMAN: + Child, thy words are wild; + Thy troubles have bewildered all thy brain. + Go, now, and fret no more; but sleep, and dream + Of Israel! For thou shall see thy home + Among the hills again. + +RUAHMAH: + Master, good-night, + And may thy slumber be as sweet and deep + As if thou camped at snowy Hermon's foot, + Amid the music of his waterfalls + And watched by winged sentries of the sky. + There friendly oak-trees bend their boughs above + The weary head, pillowed on earth's kind breast, + And unpolluted breezes lightly breathe + A song of sleep among the murmuring leaves. + There the big stars draw nearer, and the sun + Looks forth serene, undimmed by city's mirk + Or smoke of idol-temples, to behold + The waking wonder of the wide-spread world, + And life renews itself with every morn + In purest joy of living. May the Lord + Deliver thee, dear master, from the nets + Laid for thy feet, and lead thee out, along + The open path, beneath the open sky! + Thou shall be followed always by the heart + Of one poor captive maid who prays for thee. + +[_Exit RUAHMAH: NAAMAN stands looking after her._] + + + + +SCENE II. + +TIME: _The following morning._ + +_The audience-hall in BENHADAD'S palace. The sides of the hall are +lined with lofty columns: the back opens toward the city, with +descending steps: the House of Rimmon with its high tower is seen in +the background. The throne is at the right in front: opposite is the +royal door of entrance, guarded by four tall sentinels. Enter at the +rear between the columns, RAKHAZ, SABALLIDIN, HAZAEL, IZDUBHAR._ + +IZDUBHAR: [_An excited old man._] + The city is all in a turmoil. It boils like a pot of lentils. The + people are foaming and bubbling round and round like beans in the + pottage. + +HAZAEL: [_A lean, crafty man._] + Fear is a hot fire. + +RAKHAZ: [_A fat, pompous man._] + Well may they fear, for the Assyrians are not three days distant. + They are blazing along like a waterspout to chop Damascus down like + a pitcher of spilt milk. + +SABALLIDIN: [_Young and frank._] + Cannot Naaman drive them back? + +RAKHAZ: [_Puffing and blowing._] + Ho! Naaman? Where have you been living? Naaman is a broken reed + whose claws have been cut. Build no hopes on that foundation, for + it will upset in the midst of the sea and leave you hanging in the air. + +SABALLIDIN: + He clatters like a windmill. What would he say, Hazael? + +HAZAEL: + Naaman can do nothing without the command of the King; and the King + fears to order the army to march without the approval of the gods. + The High Priest is against it. The House of Rimmon is for peace with + Asshur. + +RAKHAZ: + Yes, and all the nobles are for peace. We are the men whose wisdom + lights the rudder that upholds the chariot of state. Would we be + rich if we were not wise? Do we not know better than the rabble what + medicine will silence this fire that threatens to drown us? + +IZDUBHAR: + But if the Assyrians come, we shall all perish; they will despoil + us all. + +HAZAEL: + Not us, my lord, only the common people. The envoys have offered + favourable terms to the priests, and the nobles, and the King. No + palace, no temple, shall be plundered. Only the shops, and the + markets, and the houses of the multitude shall be given up to the + Bull. He will eat his supper from the pot of lentils, not from + our golden plate. + +RAKHAZ: + Yes, and all who speak for peace in the council shall be enriched; + our heads shall be crowned with seats of honour in the processions + of the Assyrian king. He needs wise counsellors to help him guide + the ship of empire onto the solid rock of prosperity. You must be + with us, my lords Izdubhar and Saballidin, and let the stars of + your wisdom roar loudly for peace. + +IZDUBHAR: + He talks like a tablet read upside down,--a wild ass braying in the + wilderness. Yet there is policy in his words. + +SABALLIDIN: + I know not. Can a kingdom live without a people or an army? If we + let the Bull in to sup on the lentils, will he not make his breakfast + in our vineyards? + +[_Enter other courtiers, following SHUMAKIM, a crooked little jester, +in blue, green and red, a wreath of poppies around his neck and a +flagon in his hand. He walks unsteadily, and stutters in his speech._] + +HAZAEL: + Here is Shumakim, the King's fool, with his legs full of last night's + wine. + +SHUMAKIM: [_Balancing himself in front of them and chuckling._] + Wrong, my lords, very wrong! This is not last night's wine, but a + draught the King's physician gave me this morning for a cure. It + sobers me amazingly! I know you all, my lords: any fool would know + you. You, master, are a statesman; and you are a politician; and + you are a patriot. + +RAKHAZ: + Am I a statesman? I felt something of the kind about me. But what + is a statesman? + +SHUMAKIM: + A politician that is stuffed with big words; a fat man in a mask; + one that plays a solemn tune on a sackbut full o' wind. + +HAZAEL: + And what is a politician? + +SHUMAKIM: + A statesman that has dropped his mask and cracked his sackbut. Men + trust him for what he is, and he never deceives them, because he + always lies. + +IZDUBHAR: + Why do you call me a patriot? + +SHUMAKIM: + Because you know what is good for you; you love your country as you + love your pelf. You feel for the common people,--as the wolf feels + for the sheep. + +SABALLIDIN: + And what am I? + +SHUMAKIM: + A fool, master, just a plain fool; and there is hope of thee for that + reason. Embrace me, brother, and taste this; but not too much,--it + will intoxicate thee with sobriety. + +[_The hall has been slowly filling with courtiers and soldiers: a crowd +of people begin to come up the steps at the rear, where they are halted +by a chain guarded by servants of the palace. A bell tolls; the royal +door is thrown open; the aged King crosses the hall slowly and takes +his seat on the throne with the four tall sentinels standing behind +him. All bow down shading their eyes with their hands._] + +BENHADAD: + The hour of royal audience is come. + I'll hear the envoys of my brother king, + The Son of Asshur. Are my counsellors + At hand? Where are the priests of Rimmon's House? + +[_Gongs sound. REZON comes in from the rear, followed by a procession +of priests in black and yellow. The courtiers bow; the King rises; +REZON takes his stand on the steps of the throne at the left of the +King._] + +BENHADAD; + Where is my faithful servant Naaman, + The captain of my host? + +[_Trumpets sound from the city. The crowd on the steps divide; the +chain is lowered; NAAMAN enters, followed by six soldiers. He is +dressed in chain-mail, with a silver helmet and a cloak of blue. He +uncovers, and kneels on the steps of the throne at the King's right._] + +NAAMAN: + My lord the King, + The bearer of thy sword is here. + +BENHADAD: [_Giving NAAMAN his hand, and sitting down._] + Welcome, + My strong right arm that never failed me yet! + I am in doubt,--but stay thou close to me + While I decide this cause. Where are the envoys? + Let them appear and give their message. + +[_Enter the Assyrian envoys; one in white and the other in red; both +with the golden Bull's head embroidered oh their robes. They come from +the right, rear, bow slightly before the throne, and take the centre of +the hall._] + +WHITE ENVOY: [_Stepping forward._] + Greeting from Shalmaneser, Asshur's son, + The king who reigns at Nineveh + And takes his tribute from a thousand cities, + Unto Benhadad, monarch in Damascus! + The conquering Bull has come out of the north; + The south has fallen before him, and the west + His feet have trodden; Hamath is laid waste; + He pauses at your gate, invincible,-- + To offer peace. The princes of your court, + The priests of Rimmon's house, and you, the King, + If you pay homage to your overlord, + Shall rest secure, and flourish as our friends. + Assyria sends to you this gilded yoke; + Receive it as the sign of proffered peace. + +[_He lays a yoke on the steps of the throne._] + +BENHADAD: + What of the city? Said your king no word + Of our Damascus, and the many folk + That do inhabit her and make her great? + What of the soldiers who have fought for us? + The people who have sheltered 'neath our shield? + +WHITE ENVOY: + Of these my royal master did not speak. + +BENHADAD: + Strange silence! Must we give them up to him? + Is this the price at which he offers us + The yoke of peace? What if we do refuse? + +RED ENYOY: [_Stepping forward._] + Then ruthless war! War to the uttermost. + No quarter, no compassion, no escape! + The Bull will gore and trample in his fury + Nobles and priests and king,--none shall be spared! + Before the throne we lay our second gift; + This bloody horn, the symbol of red war. + +[_He lays a long bull's horn, stained with blood on the steps of the +throne._] + +WHITE ENVOY: + Our message is delivered. Grant us leave + And safe conveyance, that we may return + Unto our master. He will wait three days + To know your royal choice between his gifts. + Keep which you will and send the other back; + The red bull's horn your youngest page may bring; + But with the yoke, best send your mightiest army! + +[_The ENVOYS retire, amid confused murmurs of the people, the King +silent, his head sunken on his breast._] + +BENHADAD: + Proud words, a bitter message, hard to endure! + We are not now that force which feared no foe; + Our host is weakened, and our old allies + Have left us. Can we face this raging Bull + Alone, and beat him back? Give me your counsel. + +[_Many speak at once, confusedly._] + + What babblement is this? Were ye born at Babel? + Give me clear words and reasonable speech. + +RAKHAZ: [_Pompously_] + O King, I am a reasonable man; + And there be some who call me very wise + And prudent; but of this I will not speak, + For I am also modest. Let me plead, + Persuade, and reason you to choose for peace. + This golden yoke may be a bitter draught, + But better far to fold it in our arms, + Than risk our cargoes in the savage horn + Of war. Shall we imperil all our wealth, + Our valuable lives? Nobles are few, + Rich men are rare, and wise men rarer still; + The precious jewels on the tree of life, + Wherein the common people are but brides + And clay and rubble. Let the city go, + But save the corner-stones that float the ship! + Have I not spoken well? + +BENBADAD: [_Shaking his head._] + Excellent well! + Most eloquent! But misty in the meaning. + +HAZAEL: [_With cold decision._] + Then let me speak, O King, in plainer words! + The days of independent states are past: + The tide of empire sweeps across the earth; + Assyria rides it with resistless power + And thunders on to subjugate the world. + Oppose her, and we fight with Destiny; + Submit to her demands, and we shall ride + With her to victory. Therefore return + This bloody horn, the symbol of wild war, + With words of soft refusal, and accept + The golden yoke, Assyria's gift of peace. + +NAAMAN: [_Starting forward eagerly._] + There is no peace beneath a conqueror's yoke, + My King, but shame and heaviness of heart! + For every state that barters liberty + To win imperial favour, shall be drained + Of her best blood, henceforth, in endless wars + To make the empire greater. Here's the choice: + We fight to-day to keep our country free, + Or else we fight forevermore to help + Assyria bind the world as we are bound. + I am a soldier, and I know the hell + Of war! But I will gladly ride through hell + To save Damascus. Master, bid me ride! + Ten thousand chariots wait for your command; + And twenty thousand horsemen strain the leash + Of patience till you let them go; a throng + Of spearmen, archers, swordsmen, like the sea + Chafing against a dike, roar for the onset! + O master, let me launch your mighty host + Against the Bull,--we'll bring him to his knees! + +[_Cries of "War!" from the soldiers and the people; "peace!" from the +courtiers and the priests. The King rises, turning toward NAAMAN, and +seems about to speak. REZON lifts his rod._] + +REZON: + Shall not the gods decide when mortals doubt? + Rimmon is master of the city's fate; + He reigns in secret and his will is law; + We read his will, by our most ancient faith, + In omens and in signs of mystery. + Must we not hearken to his high commands? + +BENHADAD: [_Sinking hack on the throne, submissively._] + I am the faithful son of Rimmon's House. + Consult the oracle. But who shall read? + +REZON: + Tsarpi, the wife of Naaman, who served + Within the temple in her maiden years, + Shall be the mouthpiece of the mighty god, + To-day's high-priestess. Bring the sacrifice! + +[_Gongs and cymbals sound: enter priests carrying an altar on which a +lamb is bound. The altar is placed in the centre of the hall. TSARPI +follows the priests, covered with a long transparent veil of black, +sewn with gold stars; RUAHMAH, in white, bears her train. TSARPI +stands before the altar, facing it, and lifts her right hand holding a +knife. RUAHMAH steps back, near the throne, her hands crossed on her +breast, her head bowed. The priests close in around TSARPI and the +altar. The knife is seen to strike downward. Gongs and cymbals sound: +cries of "Rimmon, hear us." The circle of priests opens, and TSARPI +turns slowly to face the King._] + +TSARPI: [_Monotonously._] + _Black is the blood of the victim, + Rimmon is unfavourable, + Asratu is unfavourable; + They will not war against Asshur, + They will make a league with the God of Nineveh. + Evil is in store for Damascus, + A strong enemy will lay waste the land. + Therefore make peace with the Bull; + Hearken to the voice of Rimmon._ + +[_She turns again to the altar, and the priests close in around her. +REZON lifts his rod toward the tower of the temple. A flash of +lightning followed by thunder; smoke rises from the altar; all except +NAAMAN and RUAHMAH cover their faces. The circle of priests opens +again, and TSARPI comes forward slowly, chanting._] + +CHANT: + _Hear the words of Rimmon! Thus your Maker speaketh: + I, the god of thunder, riding on the whirlwind, + I, the god of lightning leaping from the storm-cloud, + I will smite with vengeance him who dares defy me! + He who leads Damascus into war with Asshur, + Conquering or conquered, bears my curse upon him. + Surely shall my arrow strike his heart in secret, + Burn his flesh with fever, turn his blood to poison, + Brand him with corruption, drive him into darkness; + He alone shall perish, by the doom of Rimmon._ + +[_All are terrified and look toward NAAMAN, shuddering. RUAHMAH alone +seems not to heed the curse, but stands with her eyes fixed on NAAMAN._] + +RUAHMAH: + Be not afraid! There is a greater God + Shall cover thee with His almighty wings: + Beneath his shield and buckler shalt thou trust. + +BENHADAD: + Repent, my son, thou must not brave this curse. + +NAAMAN: + My King, there is no curse as terrible + As that which lights a bosom-fire for him + Who gives away his honour, to prolong + A craven life whose every breath is shame! + If I betray the men who follow me, + The city that has put her trust in me, + The country to whose service I am bound, + What king can shield me from my own deep scorn, + What god release me from that self-made hell? + The tender mercies of Assyria + I know; and they are cruel as creeping tigers. + Give up Damascus, and her streets will run + Rivers of innocent blood; the city's heart, + That mighty, labouring heart, wounded and crushed + Beneath the brutal hooves of the wild Bull, + Will cry against her captain, sitting safe + Among the nobles, in some pleasant place. + I shall be safe,--safe from the threatened wrath + Of unknown gods, but damned forever by + The men I know,--that is the curse I fear. + +BENHADAD: + Speak not so high, my son. Must we not bow + Our heads before the sovereignties of heaven? + The unseen rulers are Divine. + +NAAMAN; + O King, + I am unlearned in the lore of priests; + Yet well I know that there are hidden powers + About us, working mortal weal and woe + Beyond the force of mortal to control. + And if these powers appear in love and truth, + I think they must be gods, and worship them. + But if their secret will is manifest + In blind decrees of sheer omnipotence, + That punish where no fault is found, and smite + The poor with undeserved calamity, + And pierce the undefended in the dark + With arrows of injustice, and foredoom + The innocent to burn in endless pain, + I will not call this fierce almightiness + Divine. Though I must bear, with every man, + The burden of my life ordained, I'll keep + My soul unterrified, and tread the path + Of truth and honour with a steady heart! + But if I err in this; and if there be + Divinities whose will is cruel, unjust, + Capricious and supreme, I will forswear + The favour of these gods, and take my part + With man to suffer and for man to die. + Have ye not heard, my lords? The oracle + Proclaims to me, to me alone, the doom + Of vengeance if I lead the army out. + "Conquered or conquering!" I grip that chance! + Damascus free, her foes all beaten back, + The people saved from slavery, the King + Upheld in honour on his ancient throne,-- + O what's the cost of this? I'll gladly pay + Whatever gods there be, whatever price + They ask for this one victory. Give me + This gilded sign of shame to carry back; + I'll shake it in the face of Asshur's king, + And break it on his teeth. + +BENHADAD: [_Rising._] + Then go, my never-beaten captain, go! + And may the powers that hear thy solemn vow + Forgive thy rashness for Damascus' sake, + Prosper thy fighting, and remit thy pledge. + +REZON: [_Standing beside the altar._] + The pledge, O King, this man must seal his pledge + At Rimmon's altar. He must take the cup + Of soldier-sacrament, and bind himself + By thrice-performed libation to abide + The fate he has invoked. + +NAAMAN: [_Slowly._] + And so I will. + +[_He comes down the steps, toward the altar, where REZON is filling the +cup which TSARPI holds. RUAHMAH throws herself before NAAMAN, clasping +his knees._] + +RUAHMAH: [_Passionately and wildly._] + My lord, I do beseech you, stay! There's death + Within that cup. It is an offering + To devils. See, the wine blazes like fire, + It flows like blood, it is a cursed cup, + Fulfilled of treachery and hate. + Dear master, noble master, touch it not! + +NAAMAN: + Poor maid, thy brain is still distraught. Fear not + But let me go! Here, treat her tenderly! + +[_Gives her into the hands of SABALLIDIN._] + + Can harm befall me from the wife who bears + My name? I take the cup of fate from her. + I greet the unknown powers; [_Pours libation._] + I will perform my vow; [_Again._] + I will abide my fate; [_Again._] + I pledge my life to keep Damascus free. + +[_He drains the cup, and lets it fall._] + +_CURTAIN._ + + + + +ACT II + +TIME: _A week later_ + +_The fore-court of the House of Rimmon. At the back the broad steps +and double doors of the shrine: above them the tower of the god, its +summit invisible. Enter various groups of citizens, talking, laughing, +shouting: RAKHAZ, HAZAEL, SHUMAKIM and others._ + +FIRST CITIZEN: + Great news, glorious news, the Assyrians are beaten! + +SECOND CITIZEN: + Naaman is returning, crowned with victory. Glory to our noble + captain! + +THIRD CITIZEN: + No, he is killed. I had it from one of the camp-followers who saw + him fall at the head of the battle. They are bringing his body to + bury it with honour. O sorrowful victory! + +RAKHAZ; + Peace, my good fellows, you are ignorant, you have not been rightly + informed, I will misinform you. The accounts of Naaman's death are + overdrawn. He was killed, but his life has been preserved. One of + his wounds was mortal, but the other three were curable, and by + these the physicians have saved him. + +SHUMAKIM: [_Balancing himself before RAKHAZ in pretended admiration._] + O wonderful! Most admirable logic! One mortal, and three curable, + therefore he must recover as it were, by three to one. Rakhaz, do + you know that you are a marvelous man? + +RAKHAZ: + Yes, I know it, but I make no boast of my knowledge. + +SHUMAKIM: + Too modest, for in knowing this you know what is unknown to any other + in Damascus! + +[_Enter, from the right, SABALLIDIN in armour: from the left, TSARPI +with her attendants, among whom is RUAHMAH._] + +HAZAEL: + Here is Saballidin, we'll question him; + He was enflamed by Naaman's fiery words, + And rode with him to battle. Good, my lord, + We hail you as a herald of the fight + You helped to win. Give us authentic news + Of your great general! Is he safe and well? + When will he come? Or will he come at all? + +[_All gather around him, listening eagerly._] + +SABALLIDIN: + He comes but now, returning from the field + Where he hath gained a crown of deathless fame! + Three times he led the charge; three times he fell + Wounded, and the Assyrians beat us back. + Yet every wound was but a spur to urge + His valour onward. In the last attack + He rode before us as the crested wave + That heads the flood; and lo, our enemies + Were broken like a dam of river-reeds, + Burst by the torrent, scattered, swept away! + But look! the Assyrian king in wavering flight + Is lodged like driftwood on a little hill, + Encircled by his guard, and stands at bay. + Then Naaman, followed hotly by a score + Of whirlwind riders, hammers through the hedge + Of spearmen, brandishing the golden yoke: + "Take back this gift," he cries; and shatters it + On Shalmaneser's helmet. So the fight + Dissolves in universal rout: the king, + His chariots and his horsemen melt away; + Our captain stands the master of the field, + And saviour of Damascus! Now he brings, + First to the king, report of this great triumph. + +[_Shouts of joy and applause._] + +RUAHMAH: [_Coming close to SABALLIDIN,_] + But what of him who won it? Fares he well? + My mistress would receive some word of him. + +SABALLIDIN: + Hath she not heard? + +RUAHMAH: + But one brief message came: + A tablet saying, "We have fought and conquered," + No word of his own person. Fares he well? + +SABALLIDIN: + Alas, most ill! For he is like a man + Consumed by some strange sickness: wasted, wan,-- + His eyes are dimmed so that scarce can see; + His ears are dulled; his fearless face is pale + As one who walks to meet a certain doom + Yet will not flinch. It is most pitiful,-- + But you shall see. + +RUAHMAH: + Yea, we shall see a man + Who took upon himself his country's burden, dared + To hazard all to save the poor and helpless; + A man who bears the wrath of evil powers + Unknown, and pays the hero's sacrifice. + +[_Enter BENHADAD with courtiers._] + +BENHADAD: + Where is my faithful servant Naaman, + The captain of my host? + +SABALLIDIN: + My lord, he comes. + +[_Trumpet sounds. Enter company of soldiers in armour. Then four +soldiers bearing captured standards of Asshur. NAAMAN follows, very +pale, armour dinted and stained; he is blind, and guides himself by +cords from the standards on each side, but walks firmly. The doors of +the temple open slightly, and REZON appears at the top of the steps. +NAAMAN lets the cords fall, and gropes his way for a few paces._] + +NAAMAN: [_Kneeling_] + Where is my King? + Master, the bearer of thy sword returns. + The golden yoke thou gavest me I broke + On him who sent it. Asshur's Bull hath fled + Dehorned. The standards of his host are thine! + Damascus is all thine, at peace, and free! + +BENHADAD: [_Holding out his arms._] + Thou art a mighty man of valour! Come, + And let me fold thy courage to my heart. + +REZON: [_Lifting his rod._] + Forbear, O King! Stand back from him, all men! + By the great name of Rimmon I proclaim + This man a leper! On his brow I see + The death-white seal, the finger-print of doom! + That tiny spot will spread, eating his flesh, + Gnawing his fingers bone from bone, until + The impious heart that dared defy the gods + Dissolves in the slow death which now begins. + Unclean! unclean! Henceforward he is dead: + No human hand shall touch him, and no home + Of men shall give him shelter. He shall walk + Only with corpses of the selfsame death + Down the long path to a forgotten tomb. + Avoid, depart, I do adjure you all, + Leave him to god,--the leper Naaman! + +[_All shrink back horrified. REZON retires into the temple; the crowd +melts away, wailing: TSARPI is among the first to go, followed by her +attendants, except RUAHMAH, who crouches, with her face covered, not +far from NAAMAN._] + +BENHADAD: [_Lingering and turning back._] + Alas, my son! O Naaman, my son! + Why did I let thee go? Thou art cast out + Irrevocably from the city's life + Which thou hast saved. Who can resist the gods? + I must obey the law, and touch thy hand + Never again. Yet none shall take from thee + Thy glorious title, captain of my host! + I will provide for thee, and thou shalt dwell + With guards of honour in a house of mine + Always. Damascus never shall forget + What thou hast done! O miserable words + Of crowned impotence! O mockery of power + Given to kings, who cannot even defend + Their dearest from the secret wrath of heaven! + Naaman, my son, my son! [_Exit._] + +NAAMAN: [_Slowly, passing his hand over his eyes, and looking up._] + Am I alone + With thee, inexorable one, whose pride + Offended takes this horrible revenge? + I must submit my mortal flesh to thee, + Almighty, but I will not call thee god! + Yet thou hast found the way to wound my soul + Most deeply through the flesh; and I must find + The way to let my wounded soul escape! + +[_Drawing his sword._] + + Come, my last friend, thou art more merciful + Than Rimmon. Why should I endure the doom + He sends me? Irretrievably cut off + From all dear intercourse of human love, + From all the tender touch of human hands, + From all brave comradeship with brother-men, + With eyes that see no faces through this dark, + With ears that hear all voices far away, + Why should I cling to misery, and grope + My long, long way from pain to pain, alone? + +RUAHMAH: [_At his feet._] + Nay, not alone, dear lord, for I am here; + And I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee! + +NAAMAN: + What voice is that? The silence of my tomb + Is broken by a ray of music,--whose? + +RUAHMAH: [_Rising._] + The one who loves thee best in all the world. + +NAAMAN: + Why that should be,--O dare I dream it true? + Tsarpi, my wife? Have I misjudged thy heart + As cold and proud? How nobly thou forgivest! + Thou com'st to hold me from the last disgrace,-- + The coward's flight into the dark. Go back + Unstained, my sword! Life is endurable + While there is one alive on earth who loves us, + +RUAHMAH: + My lord,--my lord,--O listen! You have erred,-- + You do mistake me now,--this dream-- + +NAAMAN: + Ah, wake me not! For I can conquer death + Dreaming this dream. Let me at last believe, + Though gods are cruel, a woman can be kind. + Grant me but this! For see,--I ask so little,-- + Only to know that thou art faithful,-- + Only to lean upon the thought that thou, + My wife, art near me, though I touch thee not,-- + O this will hold me up, though it be given + From pity more than love. + +RUAHMAH: [_Trembling, and speaking slowly._] + Not so, my lord! + My pity is a stream; my pride of thee + Is like the sea that doth engulf the stream; + My love for thee is like the sovran moon + That rules the sea. The tides that fill my soul + Flow unto thee and follow after thee; + And where thou goest I will go; and where + Thou diest I will die,--in the same hour. + +[_She lays her hand on his arm. He draws back._] + +NAAMAN: + O touch me not! Thou shall not share my doom. + +RUAHMAH: + Entreat me not to go. I will obey + In all but this; but rob me not of this,-- + The only boon that makes life worth the living,-- + To walk beside thee day by day, and keep + Thy foot from stumbling; to prepare thy food + When thou art hungry, music for thy rest, + And cheerful words to comfort thy black hour; + And so to lead thee ever on, and on, + Through darkness, till we find the door of hope. + +NAAMAN: + What word is that? The leper has no hope. + +RUAHMAH: + Dear lord, the mark upon thy brow is yet + No broader than my little finger-nail. + Thy force is not abated, and thy step + Is firm. Wilt thou surrender to the enemy + Before thy strength is touched? Why, let me put + A drop of courage from my breast in thine. + There is a hope for thee. The captive maid + Of Israel who dwelt within thy house + Knew of a god very compassionate, + Long-suffering, slow to anger, one who heals + The sick, hath pity on the fatherless, + And saves the poor and him who has no helper. + His prophet dwells nigh to Samaria; + And I have heard that he hath brought the dead + To life again. We'll go to him. The King, + If I beseech him, will appoint a guard + Of thine own soldiers and Saballidin, + Thy friend, to convoy us upon our journey. + He'll give us royal letters to the king + Of Israel to make our welcome sure; + And we will take the open road, beneath + The open sky, to-morrow, and go on + Together till we find the door of hope. + Come, come with me! + +[_She grasps his hand._] + +NAAMAN: [_Drawing back._] + Thou must not touch me! + +RUAHMAH: [_Unclasping her girdle and putting the end in hand._] + Take my girdle, then! + +NAAMAN: [_Kissing the clasp of the girdle._] + I do begin to think there is a God, + Since love on earth can work such miracles! + +_CURTAIN._ + + + + +ACT III + +TIME: _A month later: dawn_ + +SCENE I + +_NAAMAN'S tent, on high ground among the mountains near Samaria: the +city below. In the distance, a wide and splendid landscape. +SABALLIDIN and soldiers on guard below the tent. Enter RUAHMAH in +hunter's dress, with a lyre slung from her shoulder._ + +RUAHMAH: + Peace and good health to you, Saballidin. + Good morrow to you all. How fares my lord? + +SABALLIDIN: + The curtains of his tent are folded still: + They have not moved since we returned, last night, + And told him what befell us in the city. + +RUAHMAH: + Told him! Why did you make report to him. + And not to me? Am I not captain here, + Intrusted by the King's command with care + Of Naaman's life, until he is restored? + 'Tis mine to know the first of good or ill + In this adventure: mine to shield his heart + From every arrow of adversity. + What have you told him? Speak! + +SABALLIDIN: + Lady, we feared + To bring our news to you. For when the king + Of Israel had read our monarch's letter, + He rent his clothes, and cried, "Am I a god, + To kill and make alive, that I should heal + A leper? Ye have come with false pretence, + Damascus seeks a quarrel with me. Go!" + But when we told our lord, he closed his tent, + And there remains enfolded in his grief. + I trust he sleeps; 't were kind to let him sleep! + For now he doth forget his misery, + And all the burden of his hopeless woe + Is lifted from him by the gentle hand + Of slumber. Oh, to those bereft of hope + Sleep is the only blessing left,--the last + Asylum of the weary, the one sign + Of pity from impenetrable heaven. + Waking is strife: sleep is the truce of God! + Ah, lady, wake him not. The day will be + Full long for him to suffer, and for us + To turn our disappointed faces home + On the long road by which we must return. + +RUAHMAH: + Return! Who gave you that command? Not I! + The King made me the leader of this quest, + And bound you all to follow me, because + He knew I never would return without + The thing for which he sent us. I'll go on + Day after day, unto the uttermost parts + Of earth, if need be, and beyond the gates + Of morning, till I find that which I seek,-- + New life for Naaman. Are ye ashamed + To have a woman lead you? Then go back + And tell the King, "This huntress went too far + For us to follow; she pursues the trail + Of hope alone, refusing to forsake + The quarry: we grew weary of the chase; + And so we left her and retraced our steps, + Like faithless hounds, to sleep beside the fire." + Did Naaman forsake his soldiers thus + When you went forth to hunt the Assyrian Bull? + Your manly courage is less durable + Than woman's love, it seems. Go, if you will,-- + Who bids me now farewell? + +SOLDIERS: + Not I, not I! + +SABALLIDIN: + Lady, lead on, we'll follow you for ever! + +RUAHMAH: + Why, now you speak like men! Brought you no word + Out of Samaria, except that cry + Of impotence and fear from Israel's king? + +SABALLIDIN: + I do remember while he spoke with us + A rustic messenger came in, and cried + "Elisha saith, let Naaman come to me + At Dothan, he shall surely know there is + A God in Israel." + +RUAHMAH: + What said the King? + +SABALLIDIN: + He only shouted "Go!" more wildly yet, + And rent his clothes again, as if he were + Half-maddened by a coward's fear, and thought + Only of how he might be rid of us. + What comfort could there be for him, what hope + For us, in the rude prophet's misty word? + +RUAHMAH: + It is the very word for which I prayed! + My trust was not in princes; for the crown, + The sceptre, and the purple robe are not + Significant of vital power. The man + Who saves his brother-men is he who lives + His life with Nature, takes deep hold on truth, + And trusts in God. A prophet's word is more + Than all the kings on earth can speak. How far + Is Dothan? + +SOLDIER: + Lady, 'tis but three hours' ride + Along the valley northward. + +RUAHMAH: + Near! so near? + I had not thought to end my task so soon! + Prepare yourselves with speed to take the road. + I will awake my lord. + +[_Exeunt all but SABALLIDIN and RUAHMAH. She goes toward the tent._] + +SABALLIDIN; + Ruahmah, stay! [_She turns back._] + I've been your servant in this doubtful quest, + Obedient, faithful, loyal to your will,-- + What have I earned by this? + +RUAHMAH: + The gratitude + Of him we both desire to serve: your friend,-- + My master and my lord. + +SABALLIDIN: + No more than this? + +RUAHMAH: + Yes, if you will, take all the thanks my hands + Can hold, my lips can speak. + +SABALLIDIN: + I would have more. + +RUAHMAH: + My friend, there's nothing more to give to you, + My service to my lord is absolute. + There's not a drop of blood within my veins + But quickens at the very thought of him; + And not a dream of mine but he doth stand + Within its heart and make it bright. No man + To me is other than his friend or foe. + You are his friend, and I believe you true! + +SABALLIDIN: + I have been true to him,--now, I am true + To you. + +RUAHMAH: + And therefore doubly true to him! + O let us match our loyalties, and strive + Between us who shall win the higher crown! + Men boast them of a friendship stronger far + Than love of woman. Prove it! I'll not boast, + But I'll contend with you on equal terms + In this brave race: and if you win the prize + I'll hold you next to him: and if I win + He'll hold you next to me; and either way + We'll not be far apart. Do you accept + My challenge? + +SABALLIDIN: + Yes! For you enforce my heart + By honour to resign its great desire, + And love itself to offer sacrifice + Of all disloyal dreams on its own altar. + Yet love remains; therefore I pray you, think + How surely you must lose in our contention. + For I am known to Naaman: but you + He blindly takes for Tsarpi. 'Tis to her + He gives his gratitude: the praise you win + Endears her name. + +RUAHMAH: + Her name? Why, what is that? + A name is but an empty shell, a mask + That does not change the features of the face + Beneath it. Can a name rejoice, or weep, + Or hope? Can it be moved by tenderness + To daily services of love, or feel the warmth + Of dear companionship? How many things + We call by names that have no meaning: kings + That cannot rule; and gods that are not good; + And wives that do not love! It matters not + What syllables he utters when he calls, + 'Tis I who come,--'tis I who minister + Unto my lord, and mine the living heart + That feels the comfort of his confidence, + The thrill of gladness when he speaks to me,-- + I do not hear the name! + +SABALLIDIN: + And yet, be sure + There's danger in this error,--and no gain! + +RUAHMAH: + I seek no gain; I only tread the path + Marked for me daily by the hand of love. + And if his blindness spared my lord one pang + Of sorrow in his black, forsaken hour,-- + And if this error makes his burdened heart + More quiet, and his shadowed way less dark, + Whom do I rob? Not her who chose to stay + At ease in Rimmon's House! Surely not him! + Only myself? And that enriches me. + Why trouble we the master? Let it go,-- + To-morrow he must know the truth,--and then + He shall dispose of me e'en as he will! + +SABALLIDIN: + To-morrow? + +RUAHMAH: + Yes, for I will tarry here, + While you conduct him to Elisha's house + To find the promised healing. I forebode + A sudden danger from the craven king + Of Israel, or else a secret ambush + From those who hate us in Damascus. Go, + But leave me twenty men: this mountain-pass + Protects the road behind you. Make my lord + Obey the prophet's word, whatever he commands, + And come again in peace. Farewell! + +[_Exit SABALLIDIN. RUAHMAH goes toward the tent, then pauses and turns +back. She takes her lyre and sings._] + + SONG. + + _Above the edge of dark appear the lances of the sun; + Along the mountain-ridges clear his rosy heralds run; + The vapours down the valley go + Like broken armies, dark and low. + Look up, my heart, from every hill + In folds of rose and daffodil + The sunrise banners flow._ + + _O fly away on silent wing, ye boding owls of night! + O welcome little birds that sing the coming-in of light! + For new, and new, and ever-new, + The golden bud within the blue; + And every morning seems to say: + "There's something happy on the way, + And God sends love to you!"_ + +NAAMAN: [_Appearing at the entrance of his tent._] + O let me ever wake to music! For the soul + Returns most gently then, and finds its way + By the soft, winding clue of melody, + Out of the dusky labyrinth of sleep, + Into the light. My body feels the sun + Though I behold naught that his rays reveal. + Come, thou who art my daydawn and my sight, + Sweet eyes, come close, and make the sunrise mine! + +RUAHMAH: [_Coming near._] + A fairer day, dear lord, was never born + In Paradise! The sapphire cup of heaven + Is filled with golden wine: the earth, adorned + With jewel-drops of dew, unveils her face + A joyful bride, in welcome to her king. + And look! He leaps upon the Eastern hills + All ruddy fire, and claims her with a kiss. + Yonder the snowy peaks of Hermon float + Unmoving as a wind-dropt cloud. The gulf + Of Jordan, filled with violet haze, conceals + The rivers winding trail with wreaths of mist. + Below us, marble-crowned Samaria thrones + Upon her emerald hill amid the Vale + Of Barley, while the plains to northward change + Their colour like the shimmering necks of doves. + The lark springs up, with morning on her wings, + To climb her singing stairway in the blue, + And all the fields are sprinkled with her joy! + +NAAMAN: + Thy voice is magical: thy words are visions! + I must content myself with them, for now + My only hope is lost: Samaria's king + Rejects our monarch's message,--hast thou heard? + "Am I a god that I should cure a leper?" + He sends me home unhealed, with angry words, + Back to Damascus and the lingering death. + +RUAHMAH: + What matter where he sends? No god is he + To slay or make alive. Elisha bids + You come to him at Dothan, there to learn + There is a God in Israel. + +NAAMAN: + I fear + That I am grown mistrustful of all gods; + Their secret counsels are implacable. + +RUAHMAH: + Fear not! There's One who rules in righteousness + High over all. + +NAAMAN: + What knowest thou of Him? + +RUAHMAH: + Oh, I have heard,--the maid of Israel,-- + Rememberest thou? She often said her God + Was merciful and kind, and slow to wrath, + And plenteous in forgiveness, pitying us + Like as a father pitieth his children. + +NAAMAN: + If there were such a God, I'd worship Him + For ever! + +RUAHMAH: + Then make haste to hear the word + His prophet promises to speak to thee! + Obey it, my dear lord, and thou shalt lose + This curse that burdens thee. This tiny spot + Of white that mars the beauty of thy brow + Shall melt like snow; thine eyes be filled with light. + Thou wilt not need my leading any more,-- + Nor me,--for thou wilt see me, all unveiled,-- + I tremble at the thought. + +NAAMAN: + Why, what is this? + Why shouldst thou tremble? Art thou not mine own? + +RUAHMAH: [_Turning to him._] + Surely I am! But take me, take me now! + For I belong to thee in body and soul; + The very pulses of my heart are thine. + Wilt thou not feel how tenderly they beat? + Wilt thou not lie like myrrh between my breasts + And satisfy thy lonely lips with love? + Thou art opprest, and I would comfort thee + While yet thy sorrow weighs upon thy life. + To-morrow? No, to-day! The crown of love + Is sacrifice; I have not given thee + Enough! Ah, fold me in thine arms,--take all! + +[_She takes his hands and puts them around her neck; he holds her from +him, with one hand on her shoulder, the other behind her head._] + +NAAMAN: + Thou art too dear to injure with a kiss,-- + Too dear for me to stain thy purity, + Or leave one touch upon thee to regret! + How should I take a gift may bankrupt thee, + Or drain the fragrant chalice of thy love + With lips that may be fatal? Tempt me not + To sweet dishonour; strengthen me to wait + Until thy prophecy is all fulfilled, + And I can claim thee with a joyful heart. + +RUAHMAH: [_Turning away._] + Thou wilt not need me then,--and I shall be + No more than the faint echo of a song + Heard half asleep. We shall go back to where + We stood before this journey. + +NAAMAN: + Never again! + For thou art changed by some deep miracle. + The flower of womanhood hath bloomed in thee,-- + Art thou not changed? + +RUAHMAH: + Yea, I am changed,--and changed + Again,--bewildered,--till there's nothing clear + To me but this: I am the instrument + In an Almighty hand to rescue thee + From death. This will I do,--and afterward-- + +[_A trumpet is blown, without._] + + Hearken, the trumpet sounds, the chariot waits. + Away, dear lord, follow the road to light! + + + + +SCENE II. [*] + +[*] Note that this scene is not intended to be put upon the stage, the +effect of the action upon the drama being given at the beginning of Act +IV. + + +_The house of Elisha, upon a terraced hillside. A low stone cottage +with vine-trellises and flowers; a flight of steps, at the foot of +which is NAAMAN'S chariot. He is standing in it; SABALLIDIN beside it. +Two soldiers come down the steps._ + +FIRST SOLDIER: + We have delivered my lord's greeting and his message. + +SECOND SOLDIER: + Yes, and near lost our noses in the doing of it! For the servant + slammed the door in our faces. A most unmannerly reception! + +FIRST SOLDIER: + But I take that as a good omen. It is mark of holy men to keep + ill-conditioned servants. Look, the door opens, the prophet is + coming. + +SECOND SOLDIER: + No, by my head, it's that notable mark of his master's holiness, + that same lantern-jawed lout of a servant. + +[_GEHAZI loiters down the steps and comes to NAAMAN with a slight +obeisance._] + +GEHAZI: + My master, the prophet of Israel, sends word to Naaman the + Syrian,--are you he?--"Go wash in Jordan seven times and be healed." + +[_GEHAZI turns and goes slowly up the steps._] + +NAAMAN: + What insolence is this? Am I a man + To be put off with surly messengers? + Has not Damascus rivers more renowned + Than this rude, torrent Jordan? Crystal streams, + Abana! Pharpar! flowing smoothly through + A paradise of roses? Might I not + Have bathed in them and been restored at ease? + Come up, Saballidin, and guide me home! + +SABALLIDIN: + Bethink thee, master, shall we lose our quest + Because a servant is uncouth? The road + That seeks the mountain leads us through the vale. + The prophet's word is friendly after all; + For had it been some mighty task he set, + Thou wouldst perform it. How much rather then + This easy one? Hast thou not promised her + Who waits for thy return? Wilt thou go back + To her unhealed? + +NAAMAN: + No! not for all my pride! + I'll make myself most humble for her sake, + And stoop to anything that gives me hope + Of having her. Make haste, Saballidin, + Bring me to Jordan. I will cast myself + Into that river's turbulent embrace + A hundred times, until I save my life + Or lose it! + +[_Exeunt. The light fades: musical interlude. The light increases +again with ruddy sunset shining on the door of ELISHA'S house. The +prophet appears and looks off, shading his eyes with his hand as he +descends the steps slowly. Trumpet blows,--NAAMAN'S call;--sound of +horses galloping and men shouting. NAAMAN enters joyously, followed by +SABALLIDIN and soldiers, with gifts._] + +NAAMAN: + Behold a man delivered from the grave + By thee! I rose from Jordan's waves restored + To youth and vigour, as the eagle mounts + Upon the sunbeam and renews his strength! + O mighty prophet deign to take from me + These gifts too poor to speak my gratitude; + Silver and gold and jewels, damask robes,-- + +ELISHA: [_Interrupting._] + As thy soul liveth I will not receive + A gift from thee, my son! Give all to Him + Whose mercy hath redeemed thee from thy plague. + +NAAMAN: + He is the only God! I worship Him! + Grant me a portion of the blessed soil + Of this most favoured land where I have found + His mercy; in Damascus will I build + An altar to His name, and praise Him there + Morning and night. There is no other God + In all the world. + +ELISHA: + Thou needest not + This load of earth to build a shrine for Him; + Yet take it if thou wilt. But be assured + God's altar is in every loyal heart, + And every flame of love that kindles there + Ascends to Him and brightens with His praise. + There is no other God! But evil Powers + Make war against Him in the darkened world; + And many temples have been built to them. + +NAAMAN: + I know them well! Yet when my master goes + To worship in the House of Rimmon, I + Must enter with him; for he trusts me, leans + Upon my hand; and when he bows himself + I cannot help but make obeisance too,-- + But not to Rimmon! To my country's king + I'll bow in love and honour. Will the Lord + Pardon thy servant in this thing? + +ELISHA: + My son, + Peace has been granted thee. 'Tis thine to find + The only way to keep it. Go in peace. + +NAAMAN: + Thou hast not answered me,--may I bow down? + +ELISHA: + The answer must be thine. The heart that knows + The perfect peace of gratitude and love, + Walks in the light and needs no other rule. + Take counsel with thy heart and go in peace! + +_CURTAIN._ + + + + +ACT IV + +SCENE I + +_The interior of NAAMAN'S tent, at night. RUAHMAH alone, sleeping on +the ground. A vision appears to her through the curtains of the font: +ELISHA standing on the hillside at Dothan: NAAMAN, restored to sight, +comes in and kneels before him. ELISHA blesses him, and he goes out +rejoicing. The vision of the prophet turns to RUAHMAH and lifts his +hand in warning._ + +ELISHA: + Daughter of Israel, what dost thou here? + Thy prayer is granted. Naaman is healed: + Mar not true service with a selfish thought. + Nothing remains for thee to do, except + Give thanks, and go whither the Lord commands. + Obey,--obey! Ere Naaman returns + Thou must depart to thine own house in Shechem. + +[_The vision vanishes._] + +RUAHMAH: [_Waking and rising slowly._] + A dream, a dream, a messenger of God! + O dear and dreadful vision, art thou true? + Then am I glad with all my broken heart. + Nothing remains,--nothing remains but this,-- + Give thanks, obey, depart,--and so I do. + Farewell, my master's sword! Farewell to you, + My amulet! I lay you on the hilt + His hand shall clasp again: bid him farewell + For me, since I must look upon his face + No more for ever!--Hark, what sound was that? + +[_Enter soldier hurriedly._] + +SOLDIER: + Mistress, an armed troop, footmen and horse, + Mounting the hill! + +RUAHMAH: + My lord returns in triumph. + +SOLDIER: + Not so, for these are enemies; they march + In haste and silence, answering not our cries. + +RUAHMAH: + Our enemies? Then hold your ground,--on guard! + Fight! fight! Defend the pass, and drive them down. + +[_Exit soldier. RUAHMAH draws NAAMAN'S sword from the scabbard and +hurries out of the tent. Confused noise of fighting outside. Three or +four soldiers are driven in by a troop of men in disguise. RUAHMAH +follows: she is beaten to her knees, and her sword is broken._] + +REZON: [_Throwing aside the cloth which covers his face._] + Hold her! So, tiger-maid, we've found your lair + And trapped you. Where is Naaman, + Your master? + +RUAHMAH: [_Rising, her arms held by two of REZON'S followers._] + He is far beyond your reach. + +REZON: + Brave captain! He has saved himself, the leper, + And left you here? + +RUAHMAH: + The leper is no more. + +REZON: + What mean you? + +RUAHMAH: + He has gone to meet his God. + +REZON: + Dead? Dead? Behold how Rimmon's wrath is swift! + Damascus shall be mine: I'll terrify + The King with this, and make my terms. But no! + False maid, you sweet-faced harlot, you have lied + To save him,--speak. + +RUAHMAH: + I am not what you say, + Nor have I lied, nor will I ever speak + A word to you, vile servant of a traitor-god. + +REZON: + Break off this little flute of blasphemy, + This ivory neck,--twist it, I say! + Give her a swift despatch after her leper! + But stay,--if he still lives he'll follow her, + And so we may ensnare him. Harm her not! + Bind her! Away with her to Rimmon's House! + Is all this carrion dead? There's one that moves,-- + A spear,--fasten him down! All quiet now? + Then back to our Damascus! Rimmon's face + Shall be made bright with sacrifice. + +[_Exeunt forcing RUAHMAH with them. Musical interlude. A wounded +soldier crawls from a dark corner of the tent and finds the chain with +NAAMAN's seal, which has fallen to the ground in the struggle._] + +WOUNDED SOLDIER: + This signet of my lord, her amulet! + Lost, lost! Ah, noble lady,--let me die + With this upon my breast. + +[_The tent is dark. Enter NAAMAN and his company in haste, with +torches._] + +NAAMAN: + What bloody work + Is here? God, let me live to punish him + Who wrought this horror! Treacherously slain + At night, by unknown hands, my brave companions: + Tsarpi, my best beloved, light of my soul, + Put out in darkness! O my broken lamp + Of life, where art thou? Nay, I cannot find her. + +WOUNDED SOLDIER: [_Raising himself on his arm._] + Master! + +NAAMAN: [_Kneels beside him._] + One living? Quick, a torch this way! + Lift up his head,--so,--carefully! + Courage, my friend, your captain is beside you. + Call back your soul and make report to him. + +WOUNDED SOLDIER: + Hail, captain! O my captain,--here! + +NAAMAN: + Be patient,--rest in peace,--the fight is done. + Nothing remains but render your account. + +WOUNDED SOLDIER: + They fell upon us suddenly,--we fought + Our fiercest,--every man,--our lady fought + Fiercer than all. They beat us down,--she's gone. + Rezon has carried her away a captive. See,-- + Her amulet,--I die for you, my captain. + +NAAMAN: [_He gently lays the dead soldier on the ground, and rises._] + Farewell. This last report was brave; but strange + Beyond my thought! How came the High Priest here? + And what is this? my chain, my seal! But this + Has never been in Tsarpi's hand. I gave + This signet to a captive maid one night,-- + A maid of Israel. How long ago? + Ruahmah was her name,--almost forgotten! + So long ago,--how comes this token here? + What is this mystery, Saballidin? + +SABALLIDIN: + Ruahmah is her name who brought you hither. + +NAAMAN: + Where then is Tsarpi? + +SABALLIDIN: + In Damascus. + She left you when the curse of Rimmon fell,-- + Took refuge in his House,--and there she waits + Her lord's return,--Rezon's return. + +NAAMAN: + 'Tis false! + +SABALLIDIN: + The falsehood is in her. She hath been friend + With Rezon in his priestly plot to win + Assyria's favour,--friend to his design + To sell his country to enrich his temple,-- + And friend to him in more,--I will not name it. + +NAAMAN: + Nor will I credit it. Impossible! + +SABALLIDIN: + Did she not plead with you against the war, + Counsel surrender, seek to break your will? + +NAAMAN: + She did not love my work, a soldier's task. + She never seemed to be at one with me + Until I was a leper. + +SABALLIDIN: + From whose hand + Did you receive the sacred cup? + +NAAMAN: + From hers. + +SABALLIDIN: + And from that hour the curse began to work. + +NAAMAN: + But did she not have pity when she saw + Me smitten? Did she not beseech the King + For letters and a guard to make this journey? + Has she not been the fountain of my hope, + My comforter and my most faithful guide + In this adventure of the dark? All this + Is proof of perfect love that would have shared + A leper's doom rather than give me up. + Can I doubt her who dared to love like this? + +SABALLIDIN: + O master, doubt her not,--but know her name; + Ruahmah! It was she alone who wrought + This wondrous work of love. She won the King + By the strong pleading of resistless hope + To furnish forth this company. She led + Our march, kept us in heart, fought off despair, + Offered herself to you as to her god, + Watched over you as if you were her child, + Prepared your food, your cup, with her own hands, + Sang you asleep at night, awake at dawn,-- + +NAAMAN: [_Interrupting._] + Enough! I do remember every hour + Of that sweet comradeship! And now her voice + Wakens the echoes in my lonely breast; + The perfume of her presence fills my sense + With longing. All my soul cries out in vain + For her embracing, satisfying love, + her eyes and called her my Ruahmah! + +[_To his soldiers._] + + Away! away! I burn to take the road + That leads me back to Rimmon's House,-- + But not to bow,--by God, never to bow! + + + + +TIME: _Three days later_ + +SCENE II + +_Inner court of the House of Rimmon; a temple with huge pillars at each +side. In the right foreground the seat of the King; at the left, of +equal height, the seat of the High Priest. In the background a broad +flight of steps, rising to a curtain of cloudy gray, embroidered with +two gigantic hands holding thunderbolts. The temple is in half +darkness at first. Enter KHAMMA and NUBTA, robed as Kharimati, or +religious dancers, in gowns of black gauze with yellow embroideries and +mantles._ + +KHAMMA: + All is ready for the rites of worship; our lady will play a great part + in them. She has put on her Tyrian robes, and all her ornaments. + +NUBTA: + That is a sure sign of a religious purpose. She is most devout, our + lady Tsarpi! + +KHAMMA: + A favourite of Rimmon, too! The High Priest has assured her of it. + He is a great man,--next to the King, now that Naaman is gone. + +NUBTA: + But if Naaman should come back, healed of the leprosy? + +KHAMMA: + How can he come back? The Hebrew slave that went away with him, when + they caught her, said that he was dead. The High Priest has shut her + up in the prison of the temple, accusing her of her master's death. + +NUBTA: + Yet I think he does not believe it, for I heard him telling our + mistress what to do if Naaman should return. + +KHAMMA: + What, then? + +NUBTA: + She will claim him as her husband. Was she not wedded to him before + the god? That is a sacred bond. Only the High Priest can loose it. + She will keep her hold on Naaman for the sake of the House of Rimmon. + A wife knows her husband's secrets, she can tell---- + +[_Enter SHUMAKIM, with his flagon, walking unsteadily._] + +KHAMMA: + Hush! here comes the fool Shumakim. He is never sober. + +SHUMAKIM: [_Laughing._] + Are there two of you? I see two, but that is no proof. I think there + is only one, but beautiful enough for two. What were you talking to + yourself about, fairest one! + +KHAMMA: + About the lady Tsarpi, fool, and what she would do if her husband + returned. + +SHUMAKIM: + Fie! fie! That is no talk for an innocent fool to hear. Has she a + husband? + +NUBTA: + You know very well that she is the wife of Lord Naaman. + +SHUMAKIM: + I remember that she used to wear his name and his jewels. But I + thought he had exchanged her,--for a leprosy. + +KHAMMA: + You must have heard that he went away to Samaria to look for healing. + Some say that he died on the journey; but others say he has been + cured, and is on his way home to his wife. + +SHUMAKIM: + It may be, for this is a mad world, and men never know when they are + well off,--except us fools. But he must come soon if he would find + his wife as he parted from her,--or the city where he left it. The + Assyrians have returned with a greater army, and this time they will + make an end of us. There is no Naaman how, and the Bull will devour + Damascus like a bunch of leeks, flowers and all,--flowers and all, + my double-budded fair one! Are you not afraid? + +NUBTA: + We belong to the House of Rimmon. He will protect us. + +SHUMAKIM: + What? The mighty one who hides behind the curtain there, and tells + his secrets to Rezon? No doubt he will take care of you, and of + himself. Whatever game is played, the gods never lose. But for the + protection, of the common people and the rest of us fools, I would + rather have Naaman at the head of an army than all the sacred images + between here and Babylon. + +KHAMMA: + You are a wicked old man. You mock the god. He will punish you. + +SHUMAKIM: [_Bitterly._] + How can he punish me? Has he not already made me a fool? Hark, here + comes my brother the High Priest, and my brother the King. Rimmon + made us all; but nobody knows who made Rimmon, except the High + Priest; and he will never tell. + +[_Gongs and cymbals sound. Enter REZON with priests, and the King with +courtiers. They take their seats. A throng of Khali and Kharimati +come in, TSARPI presiding; a sacred dance is performed with torches, +burning incense, and chanting, in which TSARPI leads._] + + CHANT. + + _Hail, mighty Rimmon, ruler of the whirl-storm, + Hail, shaker of mountains, breaker-down of forests, + Hail, thou who roarest terribly in the darkness, + Hail, thou whose arrows flame across the heavens! + Hail, great destroyer, lord of flood and tempest, + In thine anger almighty, in thy wrath eternal, + Thou who delightest in ruin, maker of desolations, + Immeru, Addu, Barku, Rimmon! + See we tremble before thee, low we bow at thine altar, + Have mercy upon us, be favourable unto us, + Save us from our enemy, accept our sacrifice, + Barku, Immeru, Addu, Rimmon!_ + +[_Silence follows, all bowing down._] + +REZON: + O King, last night the counsel from above + Was given in answer to our divination. + Ambassadors must go forthwith to crave + Assyria's pardon, and a second offer + Of the same terms of peace we did reject + Not long ago. + +BENHADAD: + Dishonour! Yet I see + No other way! Assyria will refuse, + Or make still harder terms. Disaster, shame + For this gray head, and ruin for Damascus! + +REZON: + Yet may we trust Rimmon will favour us, + If we adhere devoutly to his worship. + He will incline his brother-god, the Bull, + To spare us, if we supplicate him now + With costly gifts. Therefore I have prepared + A sacrifice: Rimmon shall be well pleased + With the red blood that bathes his knees to-night! + +BENHADAD: + My mind is dark with doubt,--I do forebode + Some horror! Let me go,--I am an old man,-- + If Naaman my captain were alive! + But he is dead,--the glory is departed! + +[_He rises, trembling, to leave the throne. Trumpet sounds,--NAAMAN'S +call;--enter NAAMAN, followed by soldiers; he kneels at the foot of the +throne._] + +BENHADAD: [_Half-whispering._] + Art thou a ghost escaped from Allatu? + How didst thou pass the seven doors of death? + O noble ghost I am afraid of thee, + And yet I love thee,--let me hear thy voice! + +NAAMAN: + No ghost, my King, but one who lives to serve + Thee and Damascus with his heart and sword + As in the former days. The only God + Has healed my leprosy: my life is clean + To offer to my country and my King. + +BENHADAD: [_Starting toward him._] + O welcome to thy King! Thrice welcome! + +REZON; [_Leaving his seat and coming toward NAAMAN._] + Stay! + The leper must appear before the priest, + The only one who can pronounce him clean. + +[_NAAMAN turns; they stand looking each other in the face._] + + Yea,--thou art cleansed: Rimmon hath pardoned thee,-- + In answer to the daily prayers of her + Whom he restores to thine embrace,--thy wife. + +[_TSARPI comes slowly toward NAAMAN._] + +NAAMAN: + From him who rules this House will I receive + Nothing! I seek no pardon from his priest, + No wife of mine among his votaries! + +TSARPI: [_Holding out her hands._] + Am I not yours? Will you renounce our vows? + +NAAMAN: + The vows were empty,--never made you mine + In aught but name. A wife is one who shares + Her husband's thought, incorporates his heart + With hers by love, and crowns him with her trust. + She is God's remedy for loneliness, + And God's reward for all the toil of life. + This you have never been to me,--and so + I give you back again to Rimmon's House + Where you belong. Claim what you will of mine,-- + Not me! I do renounce you,--or release you,-- + According to the law. If you demand + A further cause than what I have declared, + I will unfold it fully to the King. + +REZON: [_Interposing hurriedly._] + No need of that! This duteous lady yields + To your caprice as she has ever done; + She stands a monument of loyalty + And woman's meekness. + +NAAMAN: + Let her stand for that! + Adorn your temple with her piety! + But you in turn restore to me the treasure + You stole at midnight from my tent. + +REZON: + What treasure? I have stolen none from you. + +NAAMAN: + The very jewel of my soul,--Ruahmah! + My King, the captive maid of Israel, + To whom thou didst commit my broken life + With letters to Samaria,--my light, + My guide, my saviour in this pilgrimage,-- + Dost thou remember? + +BENHADAD: + I recall the maid,-- + But dimly,--for my mind is old and weary. + She was a fearless maid, I trusted her + And gave thee to her charge. Where is she now? + +NAAMAN: + This robber fell upon my camp by night,-- + While I was with Elisha at the Jordan,-- + Slaughtered my soldiers, carried off the maid, + And holds her somewhere in imprisonment. + O give this jewel back to me, my King, + And I will serve thee with a grateful heart + For ever. I will fight for thee, and lead + Thine armies on to glorious victory + Over all foes! Thou shalt no longer fear + The host of Asshur, for thy throne shall stand + Encompassed with a wall of dauntless hearts, + And founded on a mighty people's love, + And guarded by the God of righteousness. + +BENHADAD: + I feel the flame of courage at thy breath + Leap up among the ashes of despair. + Thou hast returned to save us! Thou shalt have + The maid; and thou shalt lead my host again! + Priest, I command you give her back to him. + +REZON: + O master, I obey thy word as thou + Hast ever been obedient to the voice + Of Rimmon. Let thy fiery captain wait + Until the sacrifice has been performed, + And he shall have the jewel that he claims. + Must we not first placate the city's god + With due allegiance, keep the ancient faith, + And pay our homage to the Lord of Wrath? + +BENHADAD: [_Sinking hack upon his throne in fear._] + I am the faithful son of Rimmon's House,-- + And lo, these many years I worship him! + My thoughts are troubled,--I am very old, + But still a King! O Naaman, be patient! + Priest, let the sacrifice be offered. + +[_The High Priest lifts his rod. Gongs and cymbals sound. The curtain +is rolled back, disclosing the image of Rimmon; a gigantic and hideous +idol, with a cruel human face, four horns, the mane of a lion, and huge +paws stretched in front of him enclosing a low altar of black stone. +RUAHMAH stands on the altar, chained, her arms are bare and folded on +her breast. The people prostrate themselves in silence, with signs of +astonishment and horror._] + +REZON: + Behold the sacrifice! Bow down, bow down! + +NAAMAN: [_Stabbing him._] + Bow thou, black priest! Down,--down to hell! + Ruahmah! do not die! I come to thee, + +[_NAAMAN rushes toward her, attacked by the priests, crying "Sacrilege! +Kill him!" But the soldiers stand on the steps and beat them back. He +springs upon the altar and clasps her by the hand. Tumult and +confusion. The King rises and speaks with a loud voice, silence +follows._] + +BENHADAD: + Peace, peace! The King commands all weapons down! + O Naaman, what wouldst thou do? Beware + Lest thou provoke the anger of a god. + +NAAMAN: + There is no God but one, the Merciful, + Who gave this perfect woman to my soul + That I might learn through her to worship Him, + And know the meaning of immortal Love. + Whom God hath joined together, all the Powers + Of hate and falsehood never shall divide. + +BENHADAD: [_Agitated._] + Yet she is consecrated, bound, and doomed + To sacrificial death; but thou art sworn + To live and lead my host,--Hast thou not sworn? + +NAAMAN: + Only if thou wilt keep thy word to me! + Break with this idol of iniquity + Whose shadow makes a darkness in the land; + Give her to me who gave me back to thee; + And I will lead thine army to renown + And plant thy banners on the hill of triumph. + But if she dies, I die with her, defying Rimmon. + +[_Cries of "Spare them! Release her! Give us back our Captain!" and +"Sacrilege! Let them die!" Then silence, all turning toward the +King._] + +BENHADAD: + Is this the choice? Must we destroy the bond + Of ancient faith, or slay the city's living hope! + I am an old, old man,--and yet the King! + Must I decide?--O let me ponder it! + +[_His head sinks upon his breast. All stand eagerly looking at him._] + +NAAMAN; [_Holding her in his arms._] + Ruahmah, my Ruahmah! I have come + To thee at last! And art thou satisfied? + +RUAHMAH: [_Looking into his face._] + Beloved, my beloved, I am glad + Forever! 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