NAAMAN:
Whence comest thou?
Thy voice is like thy mistress, but thy looks
Have something foreign. Tell thy name, thy land.

RUAHMAH:
Ruahmah is my name, a captive maid,
The daughter of a prince in Israel,--
Where once, in olden days, I saw my lord
Ride through our highlands, when Samaria
Was allied with Damascus to defeat
Asshur, our common foe.

NAAMAN:
O glorious days,
Crowded with life! And thou rememberest them?

RUAHMAH:
As clear as yesterday! Master, I saw
Thee riding on a snow-white horse beside
Our king; and all we joyful little maids
Strewed boughs of palm along the victors' way;
For you had driven out the enemy,
Broken; and both our lands were friends and free.

NAAMAN: [_Sadly._]
Well, they are past, those noble days! The friends
That fought for freedom stand apart, rivals
For Asshur's favour, like two jealous dogs
That snarl and bite each other, while they wait