The throne is at the right in front: opposite
is the royal door of entrance, guarded by four tall sentinels.
Enter at the rear between the columns, RAKHAZ, SABALLIDIN, HAZAEL,
IZDUBHAR._
IZDUBHAR: [An excited old man.]
The city is all in a turmoil. It boils like a pot of lentils.
The people are foaming and bubbling round and round like
beans in the pottage.
HAZAEL: [A lean, crafty man.]
Fear is a hot fire.
RAKHAZ: [A fat, pompous man.]
Well may they fear, for the Assyrians are not three days
distant. They are blazing along like a waterspout to
chop Damascus down like a pitcher of spilt milk.
SABALLIDIN: [Young and frank.]
Cannot Naaman drive them back?
RAKHAZ: [Puffing and blowing.]
Ho! Naaman? Where have you been living? Naaman is a broken
reed whose claws have been cut. Build no hopes on that
foundation, for it will run away and leave you all adrift
in the conflagration.
SABALLIDIN:
He clatters like a windmill. What would he say, Hazael?
HAZAEL:
Naaman can do nothing without the command of the King; and
the King fears to order the army to march without the
approval of the gods.
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