And days of pomp, and nights of revelry,
Glorious rites and ecstasies of love,
Unto the topmost room in Rimmon's tower,
The secret, lofty room, the couch of bliss,
And the divine embraces of the god.

TSARPI: [_Throwing out her arms in exultation._]
All, all I wish! What must I do for this?

REZON:
Turn Naaman away from thoughts of war;
Or purchase him with love's delights to yield
This point,--I care not how,--and afterwards
The future shall be ours.

TSARPI:
And if I fail?

REZON:
I have another shaft. The last appeal,
Before the king decides, is to the oracle
Of Rimmon. You shall read the signs!
A former priestess of his temple, you
Shall be the interpreter of heaven, and speak
A word to melt this brazen soldier's heart
Within his breast.

TSARPI:
But if it flame instead?