BENHADAD:  [Half-whispering.]
    Art thou a ghost escaped from Allatu? 
    How didst thou pass the seven doors of death? 
    O noble ghost I am afraid of thee,
    And yet I love thee,—­let me hear thy voice!

NAAMAN: 
    No ghost, my King, but one who lives to serve
    Thee and Damascus with his heart and sword
    As in the former days.  The only God
    Has healed my leprosy:  my life is clean
    To offer to my country and my King.

BENHADAD:  [Starting toward him.]
    O welcome to thy King!  Thrice welcome!

REZON:  [Leaving his seat and coming toward NAAMAN.]
                                            Stay! 
    The leper must appear before the priest,
    The only one who can pronounce him clean.

[NAAMAN turns; they stand looking each other in the face.]

Yea,—­thou art cleansed:  Rimmon hath pardoned thee,—­
In answer to the daily prayers of her
Whom he restores to thine embrace,—­thy wife.

[TSARPI comes slowly toward NAAMAN.]

NAAMAN: 
    From him who rules this House will I receive
    Nothing!  I seek no pardon from his priest,
    No wife of mine among his votaries!

TSARPI:  [Holding out her hands.]
    Am I not yours?  Will you renounce our vows?

NAAMAN: 
    The vows were empty,—­never made you mine
    In aught but name.  A wife is one who shares
    Her husband’s thought, incorporates his heart
    With hers by love, and crowns him with her trust. 
    She is God’s remedy for loneliness,
    And God’s reward for all the toil of life. 
    This you have never been to me,—­and so
    I give you back again to Rimmon’s House
    Where you belong.  Claim what you will of mine,—­
    Not me!  I do renounce you,—­or release you,—­
    According to the law.  If you demand
    A further cause than what I have declared,
    I will unfold it fully to the King.

REZON:  [Interposing hurriedly.]
    No need of that!  This duteous lady yields
    To your caprice as she has ever done: 
    She stands a monument of loyalty
    And woman’s meekness.

NAAMAN: 
                          Let her stand for that! 
    Adorn your temple with her piety! 
    But you in turn restore to me the treasure
    You stole at midnight from my tent.

REZON: 
    What treasure!  I have stolen none from you.

NAAMAN: 
    The very jewel of my soul,—­Ruahmah! 
    My King, the captive maid of Israel,
    To whom thou didst commit my broken life
    With letters to Samaria,—­my light,
    My guide, my saviour in this pilgrimage,—­
    Dost thou remember?

BENHADAD: 
                        I recall the maid,—­
    But dimly,—­for my mind is old and weary,
    She was a fearless maid, I trusted her
    And gave thee to her charge.  Where is she now?