The House of Rimmon | Page 3

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