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_ ACT IV. SCENE II.
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 proof. I think there is only one, but beautiful enough for two. What were you talking to yourself about, fairest one!
KHAMMA:
About the lady Tsarpi, fool, and what she would do if her husband
returned.
SHUMAKIM:
Fie! fie! That is no talk for an innocent fool to hear. Has she a husband?
NUBTA:
You know very well that she is the wife of Lord Naaman.
SHUMAKIM:
I remember that she used to wear his name and his jewels. But I thought he had exchanged her,--for a leprosy.
KHAMMA:
You must have heard that he went away to Samaria to look for healing. Some say that he died on the journey; but others say he has been cured, and is on his way home to his wife.
SHUMAKIM:
It may be, for this is a mad world, and men never know when they are well off,--except us fools. But he must come soon if he would find his wife as he parted from her,--or the city where he left it. The Assyrians have returned with a greater army, and this time they will make an end of us. There is no Naaman how, and the Bull will devour Damascus like a bunch of leeks, flowers and all,--flowers and all, my double-budded fair one! Are you not afraid?
NUBTA:
We belong to the House of Rimmon. He will protect us.
SHUMAKIM:
What? The mighty one who hides behind the curtain there, and tells his secrets to Rezon? No doubt he will take care of you, and of himself. Whatever game is played, the gods never lose. But for the protection, of the common people and the rest of us fools, I would rather have Naaman at the head of an army than all the sacred images between here and Babylon.
KHAMMA:
You are a wicked old man. You mock the god. He will punish you.
SHUMAKIM: [_Bitterly._]
How can he punish me? Has he not already made me a fool? Hark, here comes my brother the High Priest, and my brother the King. Rimmon made us all; but nobody knows who made Rimmon, except the High Priest; and he will never tell.
[Gongs and cymbals sound. Enter REZON with priests, and the King with courtiers. They take their seats. A throng of Khali and Kharimati come in, TSARPI presiding; a sacred dance is performed with torches, burning incense, and chanting, in which TSARPI leads.]
CHANT.
_Hail, mighty Rimmon, ruler of the whirl-storm,
Hail, shaker of mountains, breaker-down of forests,
Hail, thou who roarest terribly in the darkness,
Hail, thou whose arrows flame across the heavens!
Hail, great destroyer, lord of flood and tempest,
In thine anger almighty, in thy wrath eternal,
Thou who delightest in ruin, maker of desolations,
Immeru, Addu, Barku, Rimmon!
See we tremble before thee, low we bow at thine altar,
Have mercy upon us, be favourable unto us,
Save us from our enemy, accept our sacrifice,
Barku, Immeru, Addu, Rimmon!_
[_Silence follows, all bowing down._]
REZON:
O King, last night the counsel from above
Was given in answer to our divination.
Ambassadors must go forthwith to crave
Assyria's pardon, and a second offer
Of the same terms of peace we did reject
Not long ago.
BENHADAD:
Dishonour! Yet I see
No other way! Assyria will refuse,
Or make still harder terms. Disaster, shame
For this gray head, and ruin for Damascus!
REZON:
Yet may we trust Rimmon will favour us,
If we adhere devoutly to his worship.
He will incline his brother-god, the Bull,
To spare us, if we supplicate him now
With costly gifts. Therefore I have prepared
A sacrifice: Rimmon shall be well pleased
With the red blood that bathes his knees to-night!
BENHADAD:
My mind is dark with doubt,--I do forebode
Some horror! Let me go,--I am an old man,--
If Naaman my captain were alive!
But he is dead,--the glory is departed!
[_He rises, trembling, to leave the throne. Trumpet sounds,--NAAMAN'S call;--enter NAAMAN, followed by soldiers; he kneels at the foot of the throne._]
BENHADAD: [_Half-whispering._]
Art thou a ghost escaped from Allatu?
How didst thou pass the seven doors of death?
O noble ghost I am afraid of thee,
And yet I love thee,--let me hear thy voice!
NAAMAN:
No ghost, my King, but one who lives to serve
Thee and Damascus with his heart and sword
As in the former days. The only God
Has healed my leprosy: my life is clean
To offer to my country and my King.
BENHADAD: [_Starting toward him._]
O welcome to thy King! Thrice welcome!
REZON; [_Leaving his seat and coming toward NAAMAN._]
Stay!
The leper must appear before the priest,
The only one who can pronounce him clean.
[_NAAMAN turns; they stand looking each other in the face._]
Yea,--thou art cleansed: Rimmon hath pardoned thee,--
In answer to the daily prayers of her
Whom he restores to thine embrace,--thy wife.
[_TSARPI comes slowly toward NAAMAN._]
NAAMAN:
From him who rules this House will I receive
Nothing! I seek no pardon from his priest,
No wife of mine among his votaries!
TSARPI: [_Holding out her hands._]
Am I not yours? Will you renounce our vows?
NAAMAN:
The vows were empty,--never made you mine
In aught but name. A wife is one who shares
Her husband's thought, incorporates his heart
With hers by love, and crowns him with her trust.
She is God's remedy for loneliness,
And God's reward for all the toil of life.
This you have never been to me,--and so
I give you back again to Rimmon's House
Where you belong. Claim what you will of mine,--
Not me! I do renounce you,--or release you,--
According to the law. If you demand
A further cause than what I have declared,
I will unfold it fully to the King.
REZON: [_Interposing hurriedly._]
No need of that! This duteous lady yields
To your caprice as she has ever done;
She stands a monument of loyalty
And woman's meekness.
NAAMAN:
Let her stand for that!
Adorn your temple with her piety!
But you in turn restore to me the treasure
You stole at midnight from my tent.
REZON:
What treasure? I have stolen none from you.
NAAMAN:
The very jewel of my soul,--Ruahmah!
My King, the captive maid of Israel,
To whom thou didst commit my broken life
With letters to Samaria,--my light,
My guide, my saviour in this pilgrimage,--
Dost thou remember?
BENHADAD:
I recall the maid,--
But dimly,--for my mind is old and weary.
She was a fearless maid, I trusted her
And gave thee to her charge. Where is she now?
NAAMAN:
This robber fell upon my camp by night,--
While I was with Elisha at the Jordan,--
Slaughtered my soldiers, carried off the maid,
And holds her somewhere in imprisonment.
O give this jewel back to me, my King,
And I will serve thee with a grateful heart
For ever. I will fight for thee, and lead
Thine armies on to glorious victory
Over all foes! Thou shalt no longer fear
The host of Asshur, for thy throne shall stand
Encompassed with a wall of dauntless hearts,
And founded on a mighty people's love,
And guarded by the God of righteousness.
BENHADAD:
I feel the flame of courage at thy breath
Leap up among the ashes of despair.
Thou hast returned to save us! Thou shalt have
The maid; and thou shalt lead my host again!
Priest, I command you give her back to him.
REZON:
O master, I obey thy word as thou
Hast ever been obedient to the voice
Of Rimmon. Let thy fiery captain wait
Until the sacrifice has been performed,
And he shall have the jewel that he claims.
Must we not first placate the city's god
With due allegiance, keep the ancient faith,
And pay our homage to the Lord of Wrath?
BENHADAD: [_Sinking hack upon his throne in fear._]
I am the faithful son of Rimmon's House,--
And lo, these many years I worship him!
My thoughts are troubled,--I am very old,
But still a King! O Naaman, be patient!
Priest, let the sacrifice be offered.
[The High Priest lifts his rod. Gongs and cymbals sound. The curtain is rolled back, disclosing the image of Rimmon; a gigantic and hideous idol, with a cruel human face, four horns, the mane of a lion, and huge paws stretched in front of him enclosing a low altar of black stone. RUAHMAH stands on the altar, chained, her arms are bare and folded on her breast. The people prostrate themselves in silence, with signs of astonishment and horror.]
REZON:
Behold the sacrifice! Bow down, bow down!
NAAMAN: [_Stabbing him._]
Bow thou, black priest! Down,--down to hell!
Ruahmah! do not die! I come to thee,
[NAAMAN rushes toward her, attacked by the priests, crying "Sacrilege! Kill him!" But the soldiers stand on the steps and beat them back. He springs upon the altar and clasps her by the hand. Tumult and confusion. The King rises and speaks with a loud voice, silence follows.]
BENHADAD:
Peace, peace! The King commands all weapons down!
O Naaman, what wouldst thou do? Beware
Lest thou provoke the anger of a god.
NAAMAN:
There is no God but one, the Merciful,
Who gave this perfect woman to my soul
That I might learn through her to worship Him,
And know the meaning of immortal Love.
Whom God hath joined together, all the Powers
Of hate and falsehood never shall divide.
BENHADAD: [_Agitated._]
Yet she is consecrated, bound, and doomed
To sacrificial death; but thou art sworn
To live and lead my host,--Hast thou not sworn?
NAAMAN:
Only if thou wilt keep thy word to me!
Break with this idol of iniquity
Whose shadow makes a darkness in the land;
Give her to me who gave me back to thee;
And I will lead thine army to renown
And plant thy banners on the hill of triumph.
But if she dies, I die with her, defying Rimmon.
[Cries of "Spare them! Release her! Give us back our Captain!" and "Sacrilege! Let them die!" Then silence, all turning toward the King.]
BENHADAD:
Is this the choice? Must we destroy the bond
Of ancient faith, or slay the city's living hope!
I am an old, old man,--and yet the King!
Must I decide?--O let me ponder it!
[_His head sinks upon his breast. All stand eagerly looking at him._]
NAAMAN; [_Holding her in his arms._]
Ruahmah, my Ruahmah! I have come
To thee at last! And art thou satisfied?
RUAHMAH: [_Looking into his face._]
Beloved, my beloved, I am glad
Forever! Come what may, the only God
Is Love,--and He will never part us.
[THE END]
Henry Van Dyke's play/drama: House of Rimmon _
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