RUAHMAH: [She slips away.]
I pray you, let me go!
I cannot dance, I do not know your measures.

KHAMMA:
Then sing for us,--a song of Israel!

RUAHMAH:
How can I sing the songs of Israel
In this strange country? O my heart would break
With grief in every note of that dear music.

A SERVANT:
A stubborn and unfriendly maid! We'll whip her.

[_They circle around her, striking her with rose-branches; she sinks to
her knees, covering her face with her bare arms, which bleed._]

NUBTA:
Look, look! She kneels to Rimmon, she is tamed.

RUAHMAH: [_Springing up and lifting her arms._]
Nay, not to this dumb idol, but to Him
Who made Orion and the seven stars!

ALL:
She raves,--she mocks at Rimmon! Punish her!
The fountain! Wash her blasphemy away!