[The vision vanishes.]

RUAHMAH:  [Waking and rising slowly.]
  A dream, a dream, a messenger of God! 
  O dear and dreadful vision, art thou true? 
  Then am I glad with all my broken heart. 
  Nothing remains,—­nothing remains but this,—­
  Give thanks, obey, depart,—­and so I do. 
  Farewell, my master’s sword!  Farewell to you,
  My amulet!  I lay you on the hilt
  His hand shall clasp again:  bid him farewell
  For me, since I must look upon his face
  No more for ever!—­Hark, what sound was that?

[Enter soldier hurriedly.]

SOLDIER: 
  Mistress, an armed troop, footmen and horse,
  Mounting the hill!

RUAHMAH: 
        My lord returns in triumph.

SOLDIER: 
  Not so, for these are enemies; they march
  In haste and silence, answering not our cries.

RUAHMAH: 
  Our enemies?  Then hold your ground,—­on guard! 
  Fight! fight!  Defend the pass, and drive them down.

[Exit soldier.  RUAHMAH draws NAAMAN’S sword from the scabbard and hurries out of the tent.  Confused noise of fighting outside.  Three or four soldiers are driven in by a troop of men in disguise.  RUAHMAH follows:  she is beaten to her knees, and her sword is broken.]

REZON:  [Throwing aside the cloth which covers his face.]
  Hold her!  So, tiger-maid, we’ve found your lair
  And trapped you.  Where is Naaman,
  Your master?

RUAHMAH:  [Rising, her arms held by two of REZON’S followers.]
        He is far beyond your reach.

REZON: 
  Brave captain!  He has saved himself, the leper,
  And left you here?

RUAHMAH: 
        The leper is no more.

REZON: 
  What mean you?

RUAHMAH: 
        He has gone to meet his God.

REZON: 
  Dead?  Dead?  Behold how Rimmon’s wrath is swift! 
  Damascus shall be mine:  I’ll terrify
  The King with this, and make my terms.  But no! 
  False maid, you sweet-faced harlot, you have lied
  To save him,—­speak.

RUAHMAH: 
        I am not what you say,
  Nor have I lied, nor will I ever speak
  A word to you, vile servant of a traitor-god.

REZON: 
  Break off this little flute of blasphemy,
  This ivory neck,—­twist it, I say! 
  Give her a swift despatch after her leper! 
  But stay,—­if he still lives he’ll follow her,
  And so we may ensnare him.  Harm her not! 
  Bind her!  Away with her to Rimmon’s House! 
  Is all this carrion dead?  There’s one that moves,—­
  A spear,—­fasten him down!  All quiet now? 
  Then back to our Damascus!  Rimmon’s face
  Shall be made bright with sacrifice.

[Exeunt forcing RUAHMAH with them.  Musical interlude.  A wounded soldier crawls from a dark corner of the tent and finds the chain with NAAMAN’s seal, which has fallen to the ground in the struggle.]