Naaman:
Poor maid, thy brain is still distraught. Fear not,
But let me go! Here, treat her tenderly!
[Gives her into the hands of Saballidin.]
Can harm befall me from the wife who bears
My name? I take the cup of fate from her.
I greet the unknown powers; [Pours libation.]
I will perform my vow; [Again.]
I will abide my fate; [Again.]
I pledge my life to keep Damascus free.
[He drains the cup, and lets it fall.]
CURTAIN.
ACT II
Time: A week later
The fore-court of the House of Rimmon. At the back the broad steps and double doors of the shrine; above them the tower of the god, its summit invisible. Enter various groups of citizens, talking, laughing, shouting: Rakhaz, Hazael, Shumakim and others.
First Citizen:
Great news, glorious news, the Assyrians are beaten!
Second Citizen:
Naaman is returning, crowned with victory. Glory to our noble captain!
Third Citizen:
No, he is killed. I had it from one of the camp-followers who saw him fall at the head of the battle. They are bringing his body to bury it with honour. O sorrowful victory!
Rakhaz:
Peace, my good fellows, you are ignorant, you have not been rightly informed, I will misinform you. The accounts of Naaman's death are overdrawn. He was killed, but his life has been preserved. One of his wounds was mortal, but the other three were curable, and by these the physicians have saved him.