ith 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.
Shall I not see her, thank her, speak her name?
Ruahmah! Let me live till I have looked
Into 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!

SCENE II

TIME: _Three days later_

_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 proo