KHAMMA: You are a wicked old man. You mock the god. He will punish you.
SHUMAKIM: [_Bitterly._] How can he punish me? Has he not already made me a fool? Hark, here comes my brother the High Priest, and my brother the King. Rimmon made us all; but nobody knows who made Rimmon, except the High Priest; and he will never tell.
[_Gongs and cymbals sound. Enter REZON with priests, and the King with courtiers. They take their seats. A throng of Khali and Kharimati come in, TSARPI presiding; a sacred dance is performed with torches, burning incense, and chanting, in which TSARPI leads._]
_Hail, mighty Rimmon, ruler of the whirl-storm, Hail, shaker of mountains, breaker-down of forests, Hail, thou who roarest terribly in the darkness, Hail, thou whose arrows flame across the heavens! Hail, great destroyer, lord of flood and tempest, In thine anger almighty, in thy wrath eternal, Thou who delightest in ruin, maker of desolations, Immeru, Addu, Barku, Rimmon! See we tremble before thee, low we bow at thine altar, Have mercy upon us, be favourable unto us, Save us from our enemy, accept our sacrifice, Barku, Immeru, Addu, Rimmon!_
REZON: O King, last night the counsel from above Was given in answer to our divination. Ambassadors must go forthwith to crave Assyria's pardon, and a second offer Of the same terms of peace we did reject Not long ago.
BENHADAD: Dishonour! Yet I see No other way! Assyria will refuse, Or make still harder terms. Disaster, shame For this gray head, and ruin for Damascus!
REZON: Yet may we trust Rimmon will favour us, If we adhere devoutly to his worship. He will incline his brother-god, the Bull, To spare us, if we supplicate him now With costly gifts. Therefore I have prepared A sacrifice: Rimmon shall be well pleased With the red blood that bathes his knees to-night!
BENHADAD: My mind is dark with doubt,--I do forebode Some horror! Let me go,--I am an old man,-- If Naaman my captain were alive! But he is dead,--the glory is departed!
[_He rises, trembling, to leave the throne. Trumpet sounds,--NAAMAN'S call;--enter NAAMAN, followed by soldiers; he kneels at the foot of the throne._]
BENHADAD: [_Half-whispering._] Art thou a ghost escaped from Allatu? How didst thou pass the seven doors of death? O noble ghost I am afraid of thee, And yet I love thee,--let me hear thy voice!