The Poems of Henry Van Dyke Part 59

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 a.s.syrians have returned with a greater army, and this time they will make an end of us. There is no Naaman now, 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 G.o.ds 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 G.o.d. 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 n.o.body 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, Berku, 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.

Amba.s.sadors must go forthwith to crave a.s.syria'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! a.s.syria 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-G.o.d, 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 pa.s.s the seven doors of death?

O n.o.ble 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 G.o.d 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 p.r.o.nounce 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 G.o.d's remedy for loneliness, And G.o.d'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 a.s.shur, for thy throne shall stand Encompa.s.sed with a wall of dauntless hearts, And founded on a mighty people's love, And guarded by the G.o.d 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 G.o.d With due allegiance, keep the ancient faith, And pay our homage to the Lord of Wrath?

BENHADAD: [Sinking back 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.]