ng him to his knees!

[_Cries of "War!" from the soldiers and the people; "peace!" from the
courtiers and the priests. The King rises, turning toward NAAMAN, and
seems about to speak. REZON lifts his rod._]

REZON:
Shall not the gods decide when mortals doubt?
Rimmon is master of the city's fate;
He reigns in secret and his will is law;
We read his will, by our most ancient faith,
In omens and in signs of mystery.
Must we not hearken to his high commands?

BENHADAD: [_Sinking hack on the throne, submissively._]
I am the faithful son of Rimmon's House.
Consult the oracle. But who shall read?

REZON:
Tsarpi, the wife of Naaman, who served
Within the temple in her maiden years,
Shall be the mouthpiece of the mighty god,
To-day's high-priestess. Bring the sacrifice!

[_Gongs and cymbals sound: enter priests carrying an altar on which a
lamb is bound. The altar is placed in the centre of the hall. TSARPI
follows the priests, covered with a long transparent veil of black,
sewn with gold stars; RUAHMAH, in white, bears her train. TSARPI
stands before the altar, facing it, and lifts her right hand holding a
knife. RUAHMAH steps back, near the throne, her hands crossed on her
breast, her head bowed. The priests close in around TSARPI and the
altar. The knife is seen to strike downward. Gongs and cymbals sound:
cries of "Rimmon, hear us." The circle of priests opens, and TSARPI
turns slowly to face the King._]

TSARPI: [_Monotonously._]
_Black is the blood of the victim,
Rimmon is unfavourable,
Asratu is unfavourable;
They will not war against Asshur,
They will make a league with the God of Nineveh.
Evil is in store for Damascus,
A strong enemy will lay waste the land.
Therefore make peace with the Bull;
Hearken to the voice of Rimmon._

[_She turns again to the altar, and the priests close in around her.
REZON lifts his rod toward the tower of the temple. A flash of
lightning followed by thunder; smoke rises from the altar; all except
NAAMAN and RUAHMAH cover their faces. The circle of priests opens
again, and TSARPI comes forward slowly, chanting._]

CHANT:
_Hear the words of Rimmon! Thus your Maker speaketh:
I, the god of thunder, riding on the whirlwind,
I, the god of lightning leaping from the storm-cloud,
I will smite with vengeance him who dares defy me!
He who leads Damascus into war with Asshur,
Conquering or conquered, bears my cur