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