chariots and his horsemen melt away;
Our captain stands the master of the field,
And saviour of Damascus! Now he brings,
First to the king, report of this great triumph.

[_Shouts of joy and applause._]

RUAHMAH: [_Coming close to SABALLIDIN,_]
But what of him who won it? Fares he well?
My mistress would receive some word of him.

SABALLIDIN:
Hath she not heard?

RUAHMAH:
But one brief message came:
A tablet saying, "We have fought and conquered,"
No word of his own person. Fares he well?

SABALLIDIN:
Alas, most ill! For he is like a man
Consumed by some strange sickness: wasted, wan,--
His eyes are dimmed so that scarce can see;
His ears are dulled; his fearless face is pale
As one who walks to meet a certain doom
Yet will not flinch. It is most pitiful,--
But you shall see.

RUAHMAH:
Yea, we shall see a man
Who took upon himself his country's burden, dared
To hazard all to save the poor and helpless;
A man who bears the wrath of evil powers
Unknown, and pays the hero's sacrifice.

[_Enter BENHADAD with courtiers._]

BENHADAD:
Where is my faithful servant Naaman,
The captain of my host?

SABALLIDIN:
My lord, he comes.

[_Trumpet sounds. Enter company of soldiers in armour. Then four
soldiers bearing captured standards of Asshur. NAAMAN follows, very
pale, armour dinted and stained; he is blind, and guides himself by
cords from the standards on each side, but walks firmly. The doors of
the temple open slightly, and REZON appears at the top of the steps.
NAAMAN lets the cords fall, and gropes his way for a few paces._]

NAAMAN: [_Kneeling_]
Where is my King?
Master, the bearer of thy sword returns.
The golden yoke thou gavest me I broke
On him who sent it. Asshur's Bull hath fled
Dehorned. The standards of his host are thine!
Damascus is all thine, at peace, and free!

BENHADAD: [_Holding out his arms._]
Thou art a mighty man of valour! Come,
And let me fold thy courage to my heart.

REZON: [_Lifting his rod._]
Forbear, O King! Stand back from him, all men!
By the great name of Rimmon I proclaim
This man a leper! On his brow I see
The death-white seal, the finger-print of doom!
That tiny spot will spread, eating his flesh,
Gnawing his fingers bone from bone, until
The impious heart that dared defy the gods
Dissolves in the slow death which now begins.
Unclean! unclean