The Poems of Henry Van Dyke Part 55

ACT III

TIME: _A month later: dawn_

SCENE I

_NAAMAN'S tent, on high ground among the mountains near Samaria: the city below. In the distance, a wide and splendid landscape.

SABALLIDIN and soldiers on guard below the tent. Enter RUAHMAH in hunter's dress, with a lute slung from her shoulder._

RUAHMAH: Peace and good health to you, Saballidin.

Good morrow to you all. How fares my lord?

SABALLIDIN: The curtains of his tent are folded still: They have not moved since we returned, last night, And told him what befell us in the city.

RUAHMAH: Told him! Why did you make report to him And not to me? Am I not captain here, Intrusted by the King's command with care Of Naaman until he is restored?

'Tis mine to know the first of good or ill In this adventure: mine to s.h.i.+eld his heart From every arrow of adversity.

What have you told him? Speak!

SABALLIDIN: Lady, we feared To bring our news to you. For when the King Of Israel had read our monarch's letter, He rent his clothes, and cried, "Am I a G.o.d, To kill and make alive, that I should heal A leper? Ye have come with false pretence, Damascus seeks a quarrel with me. Go!"

But when we told our lord, he closed his tent, And there remains enfolded in his grief.

I trust he sleeps; 'twere kind to let him sleep!

For now he doth forget his misery, And all the burden of his hopeless woe Is lifted from him by the gentle hand Of slumber. Oh, to those bereft of hope Sleep is the only blessing left,--the last Asylum of the weary, the one sign Of pity from impenetrable heaven.

Waking is strife; sleep is the truce of G.o.d!

Ah, lady, wake him not. The day will be Full long for him to suffer, and for us To turn our disappointed faces home On the long road by which we must return.

RUAHMAH: Return! Who gave you that command? Not I!

The King made me the leader of this quest, And bound you all to follow me, because He knew I never would return without The thing for which he sent us. I'll go on Day after day, unto the uttermost parts Of earth, if need be, and beyond the gates Of morning, till I find that which I seek,-- New life for Naaman. Are ye ashamed To have a woman lead you? Then go back And tell the King, "This huntress went too far For us to follow: she pursues the trail Of hope alone, refusing to forsake The quarry: we grew weary of the chase; And so we left her and retraced our steps, Like faithless hounds, to sleep beside the fire."

Did Naaman forsake his soldiers thus When you went forth to hunt the a.s.syrian Bull?

Your manly courage is less durable Than woman's love, it seems. Go, if you will,-- Who bids me now farewell?

SOLDIERS: Not I, not I!

SABALLIDIN: Lady, lead on, we'll follow you forever!

RUAHMAH: Why, now you speak like men! Brought you no word Out of Samaria, except that cry Of impotence and fear from Israel's King?

SABALLIDIN: I do remember while he spoke with us A rustic messenger came in, and cried "Elisha saith, bring Naaman to me At Dothan, he shall surely know there is A G.o.d in Israel."

RUAHMAH: What said the King?

SABALLIDIN: He only shouted "Go!" more wildly yet, And rent his clothes again, as if he were Half-maddened by a coward's fear, and thought Only of how he might be rid of us.

What comfort could there be for him, what hope For us, in the rude prophet's misty word?

RUAHMAH: It is the very word for which I prayed!

My trust was not in princes; for the crown, The sceptre, and the purple robe are not Significant of vital power. The man Who saves his brother-men is he who lives His life with Nature, takes deep hold on truth, And trusts in G.o.d. A prophet's word is more Than all the kings on earth can speak. How far Is Dothan?

SOLDIER: Lady, 'tis but three hours' ride Along the valley southward.

RUAHMAH: Near! so near?

I had not thought to end my task so soon!

Prepare yourselves with speed to take the road.

I will awake my lord.

[Exeunt all but SABALLIDIN and RUAHMAH. She goes toward the tent.]

SABALLIDIN: Ruahmah, stay! [She turns back.]

I've been your servant in this doubtful quest, Obedient, faithful, loyal to your will,-- What have I earned by this?

RUAHMAH: The grat.i.tude Of him we both desire to serve: your friend,-- My master and my lord.

SABALLIDIN: No more than this?

RUAHMAH: Yes, if you will, take all the thanks my hands Can hold, my lips can speak.

SABALLIDIN: I would have more.

RUAHMAH: My friend, there's nothing more to give to you.

My service to my lord is absolute.

There's not a drop of blood within my veins But quickens at the very thought of him; And not a dream of mine but he doth stand Within its heart and make it bright. No man To me is other than his friend or foe.

You are his friend, and I believe you true!

SABALLIDIN: I have been true to him,--now, I am true To you.

RUAHMAH: Why, then, be doubly true to him.

O let us match our loyalties, and strive Between us who shall win the higher crown!

Men boast them of a friends.h.i.+p stronger far Than love of woman. Prove it! I'll not boast, But I'll contend with you on equal terms In this brave race: and if you win the prize I'll hold you next to him: and if I win He'll hold you next to me; and either way We'll not be far apart. Do you accept My challenge?

SABALLIDIN: Yes! For you enforce my heart By honour to resign its great desire, And love itself to offer sacrifice Of all disloyal dreams on its own altar.

Yet love remains; therefore I pray you, think How surely you must lose in our contention.

For I am known to Naaman: but you He blindly takes for Tsarpi. 'Tis to her He gives his grat.i.tude: the praise you win Endears her name.

RUAHMAH: Her name? Why, what is that?

A name is but an empty sh.e.l.l, a mask That does not change the features of the face Beneath it. Can a name rejoice, or weep, Or hope? Can it be moved by tenderness To daily services of love, or feel the warmth Of dear companions.h.i.+p? How many things We call by names that have no meaning! Kings That cannot rule; and G.o.ds that are not good; And wives that do not love! It matters not What syllables he utters when he calls, 'Tis I who come,--'tis I who minister Unto my lord, and mine the living heart That feels the comfort of his confidence, The thrill of gladness when he speaks to me,-- I do not hear the name!

SABALLIDIN: And yet, be sure There's danger in this error,--and no gain!

RUAHMAH: I seek no gain: I only tread the path Marked for me daily by the hand of love.

And if his blindness spared my lord one pang Of sorrow in his black, forsaken hour,-- And if this error makes his burdened heart More quiet, and his shadowed way less dark, Whom do I rob? Not her who chose to stay At ease in Rimmon's House! Surely not him!

Only myself! And that enriches me.

Why trouble we the master? Let it go,-- To-morrow he must know the truth,--and then He shall dispose of me e'en as he will!

SABALLIDIN: To-morrow?

RUAHMAH: Yes, for I will tarry here, While you conduct him to Elisha's house To find the promised healing. I forebode A sudden danger from the craven King Of Israel, or else a secret ambush From those who hate us in Damascus. Go, But leave me twenty men: this mountain-pa.s.s Protects the road behind you. Make my lord Obey the prophet's word, whatever he commands, And come again in peace. Farewell!

[Exit SABALLIDIN. RUAHMAH goes toward the tent, then pauses and turns back. She takes her lute and sings.]