NAAMAN: 
    I do not know thy face,—­who art thou, child?

RUAHMAH: 
    The handmaid of thy wife.

NAAMAN: 
                              Whence comest thou? 
    Thy voice is like thy mistress, but thy looks
    Have something foreign.  Tell thy name, thy land.

RUAHMAH: 
    Ruahmah is my name, a captive maid,
    The daughter of a prince in Israel,
    Where once, in olden days, I saw my lord
    Ride through our highlands, when Samaria
    Was allied with Damascus to defeat
    Our common foe.

NAAMAN: 
                    And thou rememberest this?

RUAHMAH: 
    As clear as yesterday!  Master, I saw
    Thee riding on a snow-white horse beside
    Our king; and all we joyful little maids
    Strewed boughs of palm along the victors’ way,
    For you had driven out the enemy,
    Broken; and both our lands were friends and free.

NAAMAN:  [Sadly.]
    Well, they are past, those noble days!  The days
    When nations would imperil all to keep
    Their liberties, are only memories now. 
    The common cause is lost,—­and thou art brought,
    The captive of some mercenary raid,
    Some skirmish of a gold-begotten war,
    To serve within my house.  Dost thou fare well?

RUAHMAH: 
    Master, thou seest.

NAAMAN: 
                        Yes, I see!  My child,
    Why do they hate thee so?

RUAHMAH: 
                              I do not know,
    Unless because I will not bow to Rimmon.

NAAMAN: 
    Thou needest not.  I fear he is a god
    Who pities not his people, will not save. 
    My heart is sick with doubt of him.  But thou
    Shalt hold thy faith,—­I care not what it is,—­
    Worship thy god; but keep thy spirit free.

        [He takes the amulet from his neck and gives it to her.]

    Here, take this chain and wear it with my seal,
    None shall molest the maid who carries this. 
    Thou hast found favour in thy master’s eyes;
    Hast thou no other gift to ask of me?

RUAHMAH:  [Earnestly.]
    My lord, I do entreat thee not to go
    To-morrow to the council.  Seek the King
    And speak with him in secret; but avoid
    The audience-hall.

NAAMAN: 
                        Why, what is this?  Thy wits
    Are wandering.  My honour is engaged
    To speak for war, to lead in war against
    The Assyrian Bull and save Damascus.

RUAHMAH:  [With confused earnestness.]
    Then, lord, if thou must go, I pray thee speak,—­
    I know not how,—­but so that all must hear. 
    With magic of unanswerable words
    Persuade thy foes.  Yet watch,—­beware,—­

NAAMAN: 
                                              Of what?