KHAMMA:
You must have heard that he went away to Samaria to look for healing. Some say that he died on the journey; but others say he has been cured, and is on his way home to his wife.
SHUMAKIM:
It may be, for this is a mad world, and men never know when they are well off,--except us fools. But he must come soon if he would find his wife as he parted from her,--or the city where he left it. The Assyrians have returned with a greater army, and this time they will make an end of us. There is no Naaman how, and the Bull will devour Damascus like a bunch of leeks, flowers and all,--flowers and all, my double-budded fair one! Are you not afraid?
NUBTA:
We belong to the House of Rimmon. He will protect us.
SHUMAKIM:
What? The mighty one who hides behind the curtain there, and tells his secrets to Rezon? No doubt he will take care of you, and of himself. Whatever game is played, the gods never lose. But for the protection, of the common people and the rest of us fools, I would rather have Naaman at the head of an army than all the sacred images between here and Babylon.
KHAMMA:
You are a wicked old man. You mock the god. He will punish you.