Of men shall give him shelter.  He shall walk
    Only with corpses of the selfsame death
    Down the long path to a forgotten tomb. 
    Avoid, depart, I do adjure you all,
    Leave him to god,—­the leper Naaman!

[All shrink back horrified.  REZON retires into the
temple; the crowd melts away, wailing; TSARPI is
among the first to go, followed by her attendants,
except RUAHMAH, who crouches, with her face
covered, not far from NAAMAN.]

BENHADAD:  [Lingering and turning back.]
    Alas, my son!  O Naaman, my son! 
    Why did I let thee go?  I must obey. 
    Who can resist the gods?  Yet none shall take
    Thy glorious title, captain of my host! 
    I will provide for thee, and thou shalt dwell
    With guards of honour in a house of mine
    Always.  Damascus never shall forget
    What thou hast done!  O miserable words
    Of crowned impotence!  O mockery of power
    Given to kings who cannot even defend
    Their dearest from the secret wrath of heaven! 
    O Naaman, my son, my son! [Exit.]

NAAMAN:  [Slowly passing his hand over his eyes, and looking up.]
                              Am I alone
    With thee, inexorable one, whose pride
    Offended takes this horrible revenge? 
    I must submit my mortal flesh to thee,
    Almighty, but I will not call thee god! 
    Yet thou hast found the way to wound my soul
    Most deeply through the flesh; and I must find
    The way to let my wounded soul escape!

        [Drawing his sword.]

    Come, my last friend, thou art more merciful
    Than Rimmon.  Why should I endure the doom
    He sends me?  Irretrievably cut off
    From all dear intercourse of human love,
    From all the tender touch of human hands,
    From all brave comradeship with brother-men,
    With eyes that see no faces through this dark,
    With ears that hear all voices far away,
    Why should I cling to misery, and grope
    My long, long way from pain to pain, alone?

RUAHMAH:  [At his feet.]
    Nay, not alone, dear lord, for I am here;
    And I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee!

NAAMAN: 
    What voice is that?  The silence of my tomb
    Is broken by a ray of music,—­whose?

RUAHMAH:  [Rising.]
    The one who loves thee best in all the world.

NAAMAN: 
    Why that should be,—­O dare I dream it true? 
    Tsarpi, my wife?  Have I misjudged thy heart
    As cold and proud?  How nobly thou forgivest! 
    Thou com’st to hold me from the last disgrace,—­
    The coward’s flight into the dark.  Go back
    Unstained, my sword!  Life is endurable
    While there is one alive on earth who loves us.

RUAHMAH: 
    My lord,—­my lord,—­O listen!  You have erred,—­
    You do mistake me now,—­this dream—­