[The tent is dark. Enter Naaman and his company in haste, with torches.]
Naaman:
What bloody work
Is here? God, let me live to punish him
Who wrought this horror! Treacherously slain
At night, by unknown hands, my brave companions:
Tsarpi, my best beloved, light of my soul,
Put out in darkness! O my broken lamp
Of life, where art thou? Nay, I cannot find her.
Wounded Soldier: [Raising himself on his arm.]
Master!
Naaman: [Kneels beside him.]
One living? Quick, a torch this way!
Lift up his head,—so,—carefully!
Courage, my friend, your captain is beside you.
Call back your soul and make report to him.
Wounded Soldier:
Hail, captain! O my captain,—here!
Naaman:
Be patient,—rest in peace,—the fight is done.
Nothing remains but render your account.
Wounded Soldier:
They fell upon us suddenly,—we fought
Our fiercest,—every man,—our lady fought
Fiercer than all. They beat us down,—she's gone.
Rezon has carried her away a captive. See,—
Her amulet,—I die for you, my captain.
Naaman: [He gently lays the dead soldier on the ground, and rises.]
Farewell. This last report was brave; but strange
Beyond my thought! How came the High Priest here?
And what is this? my chain, my seal! But this
Has never been in Tsarpi's hand. I gave
This signet to a captive maid one night,—
A maid of Israel. How long ago?
Ruahmah was her name,—almost forgotten!
So long ago,—how comes this token here?
What is this mystery, Saballidin?
Saballidin:
Ruahmah is her name who brought you hither.