BENHADAD:  [Sinking hack upon his throne in fear.]
  I am the faithful son of Rimmon’s House,—­
  And lo, these many years I worship him! 
  My thoughts are troubled,—­I am very old,
  But still a King!  O Naaman, be patient! 
  Priest, let the sacrifice be offered.

[The High Priest lifts his rod.  Gongs and cymbals sound.  The curtain is rolled back, disclosing the image of Rimmon; a gigantic and hideous idol, with a cruel human face, four horns, the mane of a lion, and huge paws stretched in front of him enclosing a low altar of black stone.  RUAHMAH stands on the altar, chained, her arms are bare and folded on her breast.  The people prostrate themselves in silence, with signs of astonishment and horror.]

REZON: 
  Behold the sacrifice!  Bow down, bow down!

NAAMAN:  [Stabbing him.]
  Bow thou, black priest!  Down,—­down to hell! 
  Ruahmah! do not die!  I come to thee,

[NAAMAN rushes toward her, attacked by the priests, crying “Sacrilege!  Kill him!” But the soldiers stand on the steps and beat them back.  He springs upon the altar and clasps her by the hand.  Tumult and confusion.  The King rises and speaks with a loud voice, silence follows.]

BENHADAD: 
  Peace, peace!  The King commands all weapons down! 
  O Naaman, what wouldst thou do?  Beware
  Lest thou provoke the anger of a god.

NAAMAN: 
  There is no God but one, the Merciful,
  Who gave this perfect woman to my soul
  That I might learn through her to worship Him,
  And know the meaning of immortal Love. 
  Whom God hath joined together, all the Powers
  Of hate and falsehood never shall divide.

BENHADAD:  [Agitated.]
  Yet she is consecrated, bound, and doomed
  To sacrificial death; but thou art sworn
  To live and lead my host,—­Hast thou not sworn?

NAAMAN: 
  Only if thou wilt keep thy word to me! 
  Break with this idol of iniquity
  Whose shadow makes a darkness in the land;
  Give her to me who gave me back to thee;
  And I will lead thine army to renown
  And plant thy banners on the hill of triumph. 
  But if she dies, I die with her, defying Rimmon.

[Cries of “Spare them!  Release her!  Give us back our Captain!” and “Sacrilege!  Let them die!” Then silence, all turning toward the King.]

BENHADAD: 
  Is this the choice?  Must we destroy the bond
  Of ancient faith, or slay the city’s living hope! 
  I am an old, old man,—­and yet the King! 
  Must I decide?—­O let me ponder it!

[His head sinks upon his breast.  All stand eagerly looking at him.]

NAAMAN; [Holding her in his arms.]
  Ruahmah, my Ruahmah!  I have come
  To thee at last!  And art thou satisfied?

RUAHMAH:  [Looking into his face.]
  Beloved, my beloved, I am glad
  Forever!  Come what may, the only God
  Is Love,—­and He will never part us.