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قراءة كتاب The House of Rimmon: A Drama in Four Acts
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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