The House of Rimmon | Page 2

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