They drag her out beside 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!
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.
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