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Van Dyke, Henry, 1852-1933

"The Poems of Henry Van Dyke"

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 curse upon him.


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