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David: A Tragedy

Chapter 5: ACT III.
By Cale Young Rice
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About This Book

This work presents a dramatic retelling of the biblical story of David, exploring themes of power, jealousy, and destiny. Set against the backdrop of ancient Israel, it delves into the complex relationships between key figures such as King Saul, the prophet Samuel, and the young shepherd David, who is secretly anointed as the future king. The narrative unfolds through a series of scenes that depict political intrigue, personal rivalries, and the tension between divine prophecy and human ambition. The characters grapple with their fates as they navigate love, loyalty, and the burdens of leadership amidst the looming threat of the Philistines.

SCENE: The royal tent of Saul pitched on one hill of the battle-field of Ephes-Dammin. The tent is of black embroidered with various warlike designs. To one side on a dais are the chairs of SAUL and AHINOAM; also DAVID’S harp. On the other side, toward the front, is a table with wine and wine cups. The tent wall is lifted along the back, revealing on the opposite hill, across a deep narrow valley, the routed camp of the Philistines: before it in gleaming brazen armor lies GOLIATH slain. Other hills beyond, and the sky above. By the wine table, her back to the battle-field, sits MERAB in cold anger. AHINOAM and several women look out in ecstasy toward DAVID, SAUL, JONATHAN and the army, returning victorious and shouting.

FIRST WOMAN

See, see, at last!

SECOND WOMAN

They come!

THIRD WOMAN

An avalanche.
Over the brook and bright amid hosannas!

SECOND WOMAN

And now amid the rushes!

FIRST WOMAN

And the servants!
Goliath’s head high-borne upon a charger!
The rocks that cry reverberant and vast!
The people and the palms!

THIRD WOMAN

Yea all the branches
Torn from the trees! The waving of them—O!

SECOND WOMAN

And David, see! triumphant, calm, between
The king and Jonathan!… His glory
All the wild generations of the wind
Ever shall utter! Hear them—
[The tumult ascends afar] David! David!
A sea of shouting!—
O queen!

AHINOAM

You yearn for it?
Then go and lave you in this tide of joy.

[The women go rapturously. Ahinoam turns.]

MERAB

Mother!

AHINOAM

My daughter?

MERAB

Well?

AHINOAM

They all are gone.

MERAB

And Michal, where?

AHINOAM

I do not know, my child.

MERAB

Why did my father pledge her to him! you
Not hindering!

AHINOAM

She is your sister. You
Are pledged to Adriel.

MERAB

And as a slave!
And if I do not love him there is—riches!
If he is Sodom-bitter to me—riches!

AHINOAM

But for the kingdom.

MERAB

For my torture! What
Kingdom is to a woman as her love!

AHINOAM

And David still enthralls you?

MERAB

Though he never
Sought me with any murmur or desire!
Though he is Michal’s for Goliath’s death!
Michal’s to-day, unless—

AHINOAM

Merab, a care!
Too near in you were ever love and hate.

[The tumult nears. Ahinoam goes to look out.]

[Doeg enters to Merab.]

DOEG [low]

News, Merab!

MERAB

Well—?

DOEG

A triumph o’er him, yet!
The king is worn, as a leopard pent, between
Wonder of David and quick jealousy
Because of praise this whelming of Goliath
Wakes in the people.

MERAB

Then? the triumph?

DOEG

This.

[The tumult, nearer.]

I’ve skilfully disposed the women
To coldly sing of Saul, but of our David
With lavish of ecstasy as to a king.

[He watches her.]

MERAB

Then I will praise him.

DOEG

David? you?

MERAB

As he
Was never—and shall never be again,—

DOEG

But—

MERAB

Give me the phial.

DOEG

The poison?

MERAB

Come; At once!

DOEG

What will you do?

MERAB

At once with it!

[He hands it to her. She dips the point of her dagger in it.]

DOEG

To stab him

MERAB

As any fool? Wait.—And the rest now, quick.
This timbrel-player, Judith?

DOEG

She is ready
And ravishing!

MERAB

Well, well; then—?

DOEG

We will send her
Sudden, as Michal is alone with David,
To seize him with insinuative kisses,
And arms that wind as they were wonted to him.
Michal once jealous—and already I
Have sowed suspicions—

MERAB

Will—? yes—?

DOEG

On him burst [laughs]
And as a fury.

MERAB

May it be their rending!

[The tumult, near.]

Come, we must see.

[They go to look out. Shouts of “David!” “David!” arise, and a band of timbrel-players, dancing and singing, followed by a band of priests bearing the ark with its cherubim of gold, pass the tent opening. David, Saul, Jonathan, Ishui and the Court then enter amid acclamations; before them servants, bearing the head of Goliath on a charger under a napkin. Saul darkly mounts the throne with Ahinoam, to waving of palms and to praise.]

A WOMAN [breaking from the throng.]

Our little ones are saved! hosannah! joy!

[She kisses David’s hand.]

JONATHAN

Woman, thy tongue should know an angel-word,
Or seraph-syllables new-sung to God!
Earth has not any rapture well for this!
David, my brother!

DAVID

Jonathan, my friend!
While life has any love, know mine for you.

JONATHAN

Then am I friended as no man was ever!
And though my soul were morning wide it were
Helpless to hold my wonder and delight!
O people, look upon him!

THE PEOPLE

David! David!

JONATHAN

Never before in Israel rose beauty
Up to this glory!

DAVID

Jonathan, nay—

JONATHAN

Never!

[Loosing his robe and girdle.]

Therefore I pour him splendor passionate.
In gold and purple, this my own, I clothe him.
David, my brother!

SAUL [Angered.]

Brother!

AHINOAM

Saul?

SAUL

Thou fool!

JONATHAN

Father?

AHINOAM

My lord?

SAUL

Thou full-of-lauding fool!
Of breath and ravishment unceasing!

AHINOAM

Saul!

SAUL

Is it not praise enough, has he not reached
The skies on it!

DAVID

O king, my lord—

SAUL

Had Saul
Ever so rich a rapture from his son?
Ever this worshipping of utterance?

DAVID

My lord, my lord, this should not fret you.

DOEG [Derisively.]

Nay!

DAVID

’Tis only that the soul of Jonathan,
Brimmed by the Philistines with bitterness,
Sudden is joy and overfloweth—

DOEG

Fast—

DAVID

Upon his friend, thy servant, David.

DOEG

Aie!

[He turns away laughing.]

SAUL

Why do you laugh?

DOEG

“Thy servant David!”

SAUL

Why!

A WOMAN [Without.]

King Saul has slain his thousands!

DOEG

“Why,” my lord?

THE WOMAN

But David his ten thousands!

DOEG

Do you hear?
King Saul has slain his thousands, David ten!
Thy servant is he? servant?

DAVID [To Saul.]

Shall thy sceptre
Be wielded by this venom-word, as is
A weed under the wind?

SAUL

’Tis overmuch!
I’ll burst all bond of priest or prophecy.
Nor cringe to threatening and fondle fear.

[He seizes a javelin.]

I’ll smite where’er I will.

DAVID

No!

JONATHAN

Father!

DAVID

Shall
A rapid palsy now come on thy hand,
Awful and sceptre-ruined lord of men?
An impotence, a shriveling to fear,
Avenging ere thou shed offenceless blood?

[Saul’s hand drops.]

Is this thy love, the love of Saul the king?
Who once was kindlier than kindest are.
For but a woman’s wantonness of word
And idle air, my life?

AHINOAM

Saul, Saul—!

JONATHAN

The shame!

DAVID

Some enemy—does Doeg curve his lip?—
Hath put into her mouth this stratagem
Of fevered false-impassioned overpraise.

[Saul, silent, rises slowly and goes, entreated of Jonathan. Many follow in doubt, whispering.]

DOEG [To David.]

This is not all, boy out of Bethlehem.
Goliath’s dead—

DAVID

But not all villainy?

[Doeg goes, flushing,—and all follow, except Michal, and Merab, who moves cunningly forward as if incensed.]

MERAB

I burn for it!

DAVID

For what, and suddenly?

MERAB

My father so ungenerously wroth!
And wrought away from recompense so right;
Can you forgive him?

DAVID

Merab?…

MERAB

Is it strange
That even I now ask it?

DAVID

Merab’s self?

MERAB

Herself and not to-day your friend; but now
Conquered to exaltation and aglow
To wreathe you for this might to Israel,
Beautiful, unbelievable and bright!
Noble the dawn of it within your dream,
Noble the lightning of it in your arm,
And noble in your veins the fearless flow
And dare of blood!—so noble that I ask
As a remembrance and bequest forever,
In priceless covenant of peace between us,
A drop of it—

[She draws her dagger and offers it to him.]

Upon this sacred blade.

DAVID

Such kindness, in all honor?

MERAB

Poor requital
To one whose greatness humbles me from hate.

DAVID

Then of my veins whatever drop you will,
Were it the very dwelling of my soul.

[He takes the dagger and makes as if to prick himself.]

Ah, but you do not mock me?

MERAB

Rather upon
Its edge one vein of you—than priceless nard.

DAVID

And perfume out of India jewel poured?

[He searches her eyes.]

Or than—I may believe?—a miracle
Of dew, were you a traveller and lost
Upon the illimitable desert’s thirst?
Or than—

[He draws his own dagger, pricks his wrist with it, and hands it to her.]

than this?

MERAB

Shepherd!
Treachery, then?
Under a sham of tribute, poison?

MICHAL

Poison?

DAVID

And I of vanity should prick it in?
I a mere shepherd innocent of wile!
A singer music-maudled and no more.

[As she goes, stung with chagrin.]

The daughter of king Saul has yet to learn.

[From looking after her, he turns toward Michal, and, sighing, slowly approaches her.]

The vaunting of this victory is done.
We are alone at last.

MICHAL

Yes.

DAVID

That is all?
For Israel I’ve wrought to-day, for you
Who were about me, in me, as a mist
Of armed mighty angels triumphing.

MICHAL

Yes? It was well.

DAVID

To you no more? to you
Whom not a slave can serve unhonored?

MICHAL [Struggling.]

Nothing.

DAVID

Empty of glow then seems it, impotent,
A shrivelled hallowing.…
Ashes of ecstasy that burned in vain.

MICHAL

No, no! I—

DAVID

Michal?

MICHAL

No, divine it was!
And had I cried my praise the ground had broke
To Eden under me with blossoming.
Where was so wonderful a deed as this,
So fair a springing of salvation up!
Glory above star-soaring could I seize,
Auras of dawn and loveliness unfading,
To crown you with and crown!

DAVID

O lips!

MICHAL

With but
A sling, a shepherd’s sling, you sped the brook,
Drew from its bed a stone, and up the hill
Where the great Philistine contemning cried,
Mounted and flung it deep upon his brain!

DAVID

This is the victory and not his death!
Tell, tell thy joy with kisses on my lips!
Thy mouth! thy arms! thy breast!

MICHAL

No no!

DAVID

Thy soul!
Too much of waiting and of severance!
Of dread and distance and the deep of doubt.
Now must I fold you, falter all my love
And triumph on your senses till they burn
Beautiful to eternity with bliss.

MICHAL

Loose, loose me!

DAVID

Nay, again! immortal kisses!

MICHAL

A frenzy, ’tis a frenzy! From me! see!
This irremediable victory
Over Goliath severs us the more.

[The tumult breaks again, afar.]

Hear how the people lift you limitless!
Almost, to-day, and in my father’s room
They would that you were king.

DAVID

But ere to-morrow
Dim shall I be, and ere the harvest bend
Less than a gleam in their forgotten peril!

MICHAL

O were it, were it! But all silently
Jehovah fast is beckoning the realm
Into thy hands.

DAVID

Then futile to resist
The gliding on of firm divinity.
And yet whatever may be shall be done.

MICHAL

All, all?

DAVID

That for thee reverently may.

MICHAL

The anointing, then—

DAVID

Of that!… not that!

MICHAL

Yet grant
It may be told my father; that I may
Say to him all the secret!

DAVID

And provoke
Murder in him, insatiable though
I fled upon the wilderness and famine?

MICHAL

He would not!

DAVID

Nay.

MICHAL

I’ll plead with him.

DAVID

In vain!

MICHAL

Then [coldly] it is as I thought.

DAVID

You are distraught.

MICHAL

This stroke to-day [pointing to Goliath’s head] no love of me had in it.

DAVID

A love, a passion fervid thro’ me as
The tread and tremble of immortal song
Along the infinite.

MICHAL

You use me!

DAVID

Use?

MICHAL

A step to rise and riot in ambition!

DAVID

So bitter are you, blind?

MICHAL

It was a trick!
You snared me to you.

DAVID

Michal!

MICHAL

Cunningly
With Samuel netted fears about my father
Till I am paltrily unto you pledged.

DAVID

Enough.

MICHAL

Too much.

DAVID

No more; the pledge I fling
Out of my heart, as ’twere enchantment dead.
And free you; but, no more.

[He moves from her.]

MICHAL

As if it were
Enchantment dead. Ah, then ’tis true—there is
Another—is another!

DAVID

Now what fever?
A gentleness clad once your every grace.

MICHAL

There is some other that you lure and love.

DAVID

It is not Michal speaking; so I wait.

MICHAL

Then—

[Judith glides suddenly in with a low laugh and kneels before David. Michal stands amazed.]

JUDITH [As if with amorous admiration.]

Brave, it was brave, my love! beauteous! brave!

DAVID

Woman?

JUDITH

The Philistine, a brazen tower,
A bastion of strength fell to the earth!

DAVID

Woman, who are you?

[She clasps and kisses him.]

Take away your flesh.
[Free] Take it away, the heat and myrrh of it.

JUDITH

So cold?

DAVID

Away.

JUDITH

And ’tis no longer fair?
[Wantonly] Oh! Ah! I understand! the princess?—

DAVID

Go.

[Judith obeys, laughing and shaking her timbrel.]

MICHAL

A dancer then, a very timbrel player!

DAVID

Until this hour I never looked upon her.
It is chicanery of chance or craft.
You who are noble, though in doubt adrift,
Be noble now!

MICHAL

And loving? O, I will—
Now that I know what should be done. Be sure.

DAVID

You mean, that Saul?—you would not, no!

MICHAL

Rest sure.

[A hand is seen at the tent. Ahinoam enters.]

AHINOAM

David, the king—But what is this?

[Michal goes.]

DAVID

O queen—
It is but life.

AHINOAM

Nay.

DAVID

Life that ever strings
Our hearts, so pitifully prone for it,
To ecstasy—then snaps.

AHINOAM

I love thee, David.

DAVID

Then gracious be, and question here no more.
Where words are futile for an utterance.
But of the king—the king?

AHINOAM

He’s driven still.
And hither comes, and soon, and must be calmed.
Thy harp take, winds of beauty from it bring,
And consolation—as of valley-eves
When there is ebb of sorrow and of toil,
O could you heal him and forever heal.

DAVID

Then would I be—!

[He breaks off with a gesture of great desire, takes the harp and seats himself.]

AHINOAM

At once, for he will come.

[David begins; a strain of wild sadness. Saul enters and with him Doeg, Ishui, Jonathan—others. He pauses, his hand to his brow, and goes slowly, enspelled of David’s playing, up the dais.]

AHINOAM

My lord, shall David sing—to ease us?

SAUL

Let him.

DAVID

[With high sorrow.]

O heart of woe,
Heart of unrest and broken as a reed!

[Plays.]

O heart whose flow
Is anguish and all the bitterness of need!

[Plays.]

O heart as a roe,
Heart as a hind upon the mountain fleeing
The arrow-wounds of being,
Be still, O heart, and rest and do not bleed!

[Plays longer with bowed head.]

O days of life,
Days that are driven swift and wild from the womb!

[Plays.]

O days so rife—
Days that are torn of trouble, trod of doom!

[Plays.]

[Michal enters.]

O days of strife,
Days of desire on deserts spread unending,
The burning blue o’erbending,
O days, our peace, our victory is the tomb!

[He plays to a close that dies in anguished silence.]

SAUL [Rising in tears]

David!

DAVID

My lord?

SAUL

Thy breathing! beauteous!
Stilling to sorrow! O my friend, my son!

DAVID

To me is this? I dream it not? The king
Again is kind and soft his spirit moves?

SAUL

To you!

DAVID

How shelter o’er me then will spring
And safety covering!

SAUL

It ever shall.
Loveliest have you been among my days,
And singing weary madness from my brain.

[David starts toward him.]

How I have wronged thee!

MICHAL

Wronged him? [In fury.]

DAVID

Michal!

SAUL

Girl?

MICHAL

You have not wronged him!

DAVID

Michal!

MICHAL

No, but he
Is jeopardy and fate about you! drive
Him from you utterly and now away!

[Murmurs of astonishment.]

SAUL

What mean you?

ISHUI

Speak.

SAUL

What mean you?

MICHAL

This!

DAVID

No word!

MICHAL

I’ll not be kept—

DAVID

But shall be; for to tell
Would rend silence forever from you—pale
Your flesh with haunting of it evermore!
All, all your being would become a hiss.
A memory of syllables that sear,
A living iteration of remorse.
I—I myself will save your lips the words
Of this betrayal leaping from your heart.

[Nobly, before Saul.]

You seek, my lord, you seek whom Samuel
Anointed.

SAUL

Yes.

DAVID

Then know that it is I.

SAUL

’Tis—?

DAVID

I.

SAUL

You!

DAVID

I. And guiltless I, no other.
I, though I sought it not and suffer, though
I would it had not come and fast am sworn
Never against you to lift up—

MERAB

Hear, hear!
Now he will cozen!

DOEG

He, “thy servant!”

ISHUI

Hear!

A VOICE [Without.]

A thousand Saul hath slain! But David ten!

SAUL [Choking.]

Omnipotence shall not withhold me more.

[He lifts a javelin.]

DAVID

Murderous king afoam with murder-heat!

[He avoids from side to side.]

Monarch of misery—of might—of rage
So fell that lightning were not dread enough
Were it thy bolt! To-day you will destroy me?

[Goliath’s head overturned, rolls on the floor.]

Upon this day will slay me innocent?

SAUL

Die, die!

JONATHAN

No, father, hold!

[Saul flings the javelin.]

MICHAL [Reeling.]

What have I done?

JONATHAN

David, unhurt? Away, the wilderness.

[Thrusts a sword on him.]

SAUL

He shall not! no.

[Seizes another javelin.]

DAVID [Aflame.]

Then, king of Israel, strike!
Strike me to darkness and the waiting worm!
Into the Pit and to the hopeless gloom.
But, after, be your every breathing blood,
Remorse and riving bitterness and fear,
Be guilt and all the hideous choke of horror!

[Saul trembling at the curse lets the javelin fall from his hand. David breaking through Doeg and Ishui escapes by the door. Michal sinks to her knees, her face buried in her hands.]

[CURTAIN.]

ACT III.

SCENE: A savage mountain-cliff in the wilderness of Engeddi. On either side gray crags rise rugged, sinking away precipitously across the back. Cut into each is a cave. The height is reached by clefts from all sides.

Between the crags to the East is the far blue of the Dead Sea; and still beyond, bathed in the waning afternoon, stretch the purple shores of Moab. During the act the scene grows crimson with sunset and a thunder-cloud rises over the sea.

Lying on a pallet of skins near the cliff’s verge, DAVID tosses feverishly. Three of his followers and a lad, who serves him, are gathered toward the front, ragged, hungry, and hunted, in altercation over a barley-cake.

DAVID

Water! the fever fills me, and I thirst.
Water!

FIRST FOLLOWER

Listen.

SECOND FOLLOWER

He calls.

DAVID

Water! I thirst.

THE LAD

Yes, yes, my lord. [Takes up a water-skin.] Ah, empty, not a quaff!
They’ve drunk it all from him! My lord, none’s left.
I’ll run and in the valley brim it soon.

[He goes. David sinks back.]

SECOND FOLLOWER [To First.]

You drank it then.

FIRST FOLLOWER

And should I thirst, not he?
Give me the bread.

SECOND FOLLOWER

If it would strangle you.

FIRST FOLLOWER

I’ll have it.

SECOND FOLLOWER

Or betray him? spitingly?
It is the last. Already you have eat.
And we are here within a wilderness.

FIRST FOLLOWER

Be it, but I’ll not starve.

THIRD FOLLOWER

He utters right.
Why should we but to follow a mere shepherd
Famish and o’er a hundred desert hills?
The prophecy portending him the throne—
Folly, not fate! though it is Samuel’s.
I’ll trust in it no more.

FIRST FOLLOWER

Nor I.

THIRD FOLLOWER

And Saul
Has driven us from waste to waste—pressed us
Even unto the Philistines for shelter,
And now unto this crag. And is not David’s
Thought but of Michal, not of smiting him
And, with a host, of leaping to the kingdom?

[David stirs to rise.]

FIRST FOLLOWER

He moves; peace!

THIRD FOLLOWER

Let him.

SECOND FOLLOWER

Peace.

THIRD FOLLOWER

And fawning too?

DAVID [Sufferingly]

Men—men, we must have news.
Perpetual,
Implacable they stare unto each other.
This rock and stony sky.
[Rises and comes down to them.] We must have news.

[They are silent.]

Longer is death. ’Tis overmany days
Of sighing and remembered verdancy;
Nor any dew or upward odor comes.
Who will go now and bring us word of Saul?

THIRD FOLLOWER

Have not Abishai, Abiathar,
And others gone?

DAVID

Bravely.

THIRD FOLLOWER

And none returned!

DAVID

Not one of all.

THIRD FOLLOWER

Well, then, we are not swine,
And life’s but once.

DAVID

So——?

THIRD FOLLOWER

We will follow you
No longer hungered and rewarded never,
But perilously ever.

DAVID

It is well.

[He looses a bracelet from his arm.]

This was a gift from Saul. In it is ease.

[Gives it to Third Follower, who goes.]

This ring was Jonathan’s. The jewel tells
Still of the sunny haven of his heart.
Upon my hand he pressed it—the day we leapt
Deeper than friends into each other’s love.

[Gives it to First Follower, who goes.]

This chain——

SECOND FOLLOWER

I want it not.

DAVID

You have not thought;
’Tis riches—such as Sidon marts and Tyre
Would covet.

SECOND FOLLOWER

I care not.

DAVID

None else is left.

SECOND FOLLOWER

No matter.

DAVID

Then——?

SECOND FOLLOWER

There was of Gibeah
A woman—dear to me. Her face at night
Weeping among my dreams.…
The prophecy
Is unfulfilled, and vain!

DAVID

And you would go?

SECOND FOLLOWER

The suffering—this cliff.

DAVID

I understand,
[Motions.] So, without any blame, and to content.

[The Second Follower falters, then goes.]

[Quietly.] A desolation left, of rock and air,
Of barren sea and bitterness as vast.
Thou hast bereft me, Saul! thou hast bereft!

[He moves up the cliff, gazes sadly away, then kneels by a stone, as to pray.]

My flesh cries for oblivion—to sink
Unwaking away into the Night … where is
No tears, but only tides of sleep.…
No, crieth
Not for Oblivion and Night, but for
Rage and revenge! Saul! Saul!… My spirit, peace.
As pants the heart for the water-brook, so I!

[He bows his head. Michal in rags that disguise, enters with the Lad, unseen.]

Her lips it was that hurled me unto this!
Yet, yet not violence on him and blood!
I must revenge’s call within me quell,
Though righteously it quivers and aflame.

[He goes slowly into the cave, Right.]

MICHAL

This is the place, then, this?

LAD

Yes, princess.

MICHAL

Here
So long in want and sickness he hath hid?
Under the livid day and lonelier night!

LAD

I brought him water, often.

MICHAL

Little lad!
But he has heard no word from me—not how
My father, Saul, frantic of my repentance,
Had unto Phalti, a new lord, betrothed me?
How then I fled to win unto these wilds?

LAD

He heard not anything—only the tales
I told of Moab, my own land.

[David plays within.]

But oh!
It is his harp.

MICHAL

And strains that weep o’er me!…
I’ll speak to him … and yet must be unknown!
A leper? as a leper could I…?

LAD

Why
Must he not know you?

MICHAL

Ask me not, lad, now;
But go a little.

LAD

Yes.

[He sets down the water-skin and goes.]

MICHAL [Delaying, then in a loud voice.]

Unclean! Unclean!

[Conceals her face in her hair.]

DAVID

Who crieth here?

MICHAL

Unclean!

DAVID [Appearing.]

Who cries unclean?
Poor leper in these wilds, who art thou?

MICHAL

One
Outcast and faint, forlorn!

DAVID

Then you have come
To one more bitter outcast than yourself,
One who has less than this lone void to give,
This sterile solitude and sun, this scene
Of leaden desolation that makes mad.
Who has no ease but cave or shading rock,
Or the still moon, or stars that glide the night.
One over whom——

MICHAL

Yet, pity!

DAVID

The pale hours
Flow dead into eternity.

MICHAL

Ah, yet…!

DAVID

My cloak, then, for thy tattered limbs. Or, no—
This chain of Ophir for thy every need.
Once was it dear, but should be so no more.
[Flinging it to her.] Have it, and with it vanish memory
Out of my breast——

MICHAL

No, no.

DAVID

And from me fall
Link upon link her loveliness that bound.

MICHAL

Oh, do not!

DAVID

Woman…?

MICHAL

Nothing. A chain like this
I once beheld wind undulantly bright
O’er Michal, the king’s daughter.

DAVID

Woman, the king’s?

MICHAL

Pity!

DAVID

Who are you?

MICHAL

Stay! Unclean!

DAVID

A spy?
A spy of Saul and hypocrite have crept
Hither to learn…?

MICHAL

Have heed—unclean!

DAVID

How then
Wandering come you here?

MICHAL

Unclean! Unclean!

DAVID

My brain is overfull of fever, mad.
Almost and I had touched thy peril, held
Thy hideous contagion.

MICHAL

Wrong!

DAVID

Then who
Art thou to know and speak of her, of Michal?

MICHAL

One who has served the king.

DAVID

And you have seen
Michal, you have beheld her?

MICHAL

Once, when she
In face was fairer and in heart than now
They say she is.

DAVID

And heard her speak?

MICHAL

A night
Under the leaves of Gibeah—when she
Sang with another—David.

DAVID

Say no more.

MICHAL

And from afar, under the moon, blew faint
The treading of the wine-presses with song.
David she loved, but anger-torn betrayed,
Unworthy of him.

DAVID

Speak of her no more,
Nor of her cruelty, unless to pray
He she has ruined may forget her.

MICHAL

Yet
If deep she should repent——?

DAVID

Leper, no more.

[A moment; then a jackal’s cry shrills to them. David starts.]

The signal. [He listens.] Thrice repeated? Word at last?
[To Michal.] He who is near may prove to thee less kind.

[She goes. He springs to look down the cliff.]

Abishai? Abiathar? It is!
But staggering and wounded? breathless? torn?

[He watches, then turns to meet them. They enter—Abiathar with bloody ephod and broken breastplate—and sink in panting exhaustion.]

Abishai, what is it that you bring?
Abiathar, up! answer!

ABIATHAR

Water!

DAVID

Up!

[He brings the water-skin. They drain it fiercely.]

What is it now so fevered from you stares
And breathing too abhorrence? Gasp it out.

ABIATHAR

I stifle—in a universe—he still—
Has breath in.

DAVID

Saul?

ABIATHAR

I’ll scathe him! Scorpions
Of terror and remorse sting in his soul!

DAVID

If you have tidings, not in words so wild.

ABIATHAR

Then ask and hate shall calm me.

DAVID

Ask?

ABIATHAR

On, on!
Seek if he lives!

DAVID

Who?

ABIATHAR

Seek if prophecy
Founts yet in Judah!

DAVID

Samuel…?

ABIATHAR

Is dead!…
Dead—and of tidings more calamitous.

[A pause.]

DAVID [Hoarsely.]

Tell on. I hear.

ABIATHAR

Saul gloating to believe
The priests, assembled sacredly at Nob,
Plotted assisting you, hath had them——

DAVID

No…!

ABIATHAR

Slain at the hands of Doeg—murdered, all!

DAVID

But he—your father?

ABIATHAR

Was among them; fell.

[He stands motionless.]

DAVID [Gently.]

Abiathar, my friend!… Appeaseless Saul!

ABIATHAR

Hear all, hear all! Thy father, too, and mother,
Even thy kindred, out of Israel
Are driven into Moab; and this king,
Delirious still for blood as desert pard,
With Merab, whelp of him, and many armed,
Is near us now—aquiver at Engeddi
For your destruction:

[David struggles for control.]

And yet you will not strike.

DAVID

[Low.] No, but of Michal, tell me good at once,
Lest unendurable this lot, I may—
and mount o’er every oath into revenge.

ABIATHAR

Ha—Michal!

DAVID

She withholds her father’s wrath?

ABIATHAR

She’s well.

DAVID

Not if you say no more.

ABIATHAR

I know
Nothing of her.

DAVID

Your look belies.

ABIATHAR

Perhaps:
As did her love.

DAVID

That is for me.

ABIATHAR

Well, what?
A woman who betrays?

DAVID

Speak, not evade;
And judge her when earth has no mystery.

ABIATHAR

Then from your craving put her—wide; she is
Unworthy any tremor of your veins.

DAVID

Dawn-lilies under dew are then unworthy,
And nesting doves are horrible to heaven.
I will not so believe. Your reason…!

ABIATHAR

Saul
Has given her—and she will wed him, aye—
To Phalti, a new lord.

DAVID

Untrue of her!

ABIATHAR

Cry. Yet you will believe it.

DAVID

Not until
The verdant parable of spring is hushed
Ever of bloom, to prove it. Never till
Hermon is swung into the sea! until
The last void of the everlasting sky——

[Looking up he falters, breaks off, and is strangely moved at something beheld.]

ABIATHAR

What, what alarm?

ABISHAI

What stare you on?

ABIATHAR

He’s mad?

[David points. They look up.]

ABIATHAR

An eaglet!…

ABISHAI

Eaglet?

ABIATHAR

Pierct!

ABISHAI

Pierct?…

DAVID

Falling here.
And beating against death unbuoyantly.

[The bird, an arrow through it, drops in throes at their feet.]

A destiny, a fate in this is hidden!

[He bends over it, then quickly back.]

ABIATHAR

A destiny, how, how?

DAVID

The arrow!—His!
His, and no other’s. Quick, then, no delay.

ABIATHAR

Be clear, clearer.

DAVID

We are discovered—near
On us is death. Open the secret chamber
Within the cave, for from the bow of Saul
Is yonder bleeding—from no other.

ABIATHAR

Saul’s?
But how, was any here?

DAVID

To-day, to-day.
A leper wandering.

ABIATHAR

We are betrayed.

[Abishai with the water-skin hastens into the cave, Right. David and Abiathar stand listening. Noise of approach is heard.]

DAVID

They near.

ABIATHAR

And many.

DAVID

King of Israel!
Inexorable!

ABIATHAR

O, rebuke him, do!

DAVID

Almost I am beyond this tolerance.

ABIATHAR

In truth. Therefore it is you rise and shake
Out of his power the sceptre!

DAVID

Tempt me not!
Mercy and memory almost are dead,
And craving birth in me is fateful ire.

[They follow into the cave. Hardly have they done so when at a shout, Saul, bloodthirsty, with Doeg, Abner, Ishui, and soldiers, pour in from all sides, with drawn weapons.]

SAUL

On, to him! search the caves! In, in, and bring
Him to my sword, and Michal with him.
[Pacing terrible the while.] They
Shall couch upon eternity and dust.
[Weakly.] I am the king, and Israel is mine.…
I’ll sleep upon their grave—I’ll sleep upon it,
And hear the worm…!
[To a Soldier re-entering from one cave.] Where is he? Bring him.

SOLDIER

O King——

SAUL

You’ve slain him and you tremble! Say it.

SOLDIER

No.

SAUL

Then hither with him; hither!

SOLDIER

He’s not here.

SAUL

A treachery! You cunningly contrive
To aid him, so.…

[To a Soldier re-entering fearfully from the other cave.]

Bring me his head.

SOLDIER

My lord,
He is not there.

SAUL

I tell you it is lies—
Because you deem that he shall be the king
And treasure up reward and amnesty.

[Into one cave, then another he rushes, then out among them furious.]

From me, ill-fruited ineffectual herd!
Away from me, he’s fled and none of you
Is servant and will find and for me seize him!
From me—I’ll sleep—I’ll rest—and then—

[All begin to crowd out, overawed, but Doeg and Abner.]

I’ll sleep.

[Slowly he moves into the cave, Left, and lies down.]

ABNER

[To Doeg, significantly.] The evil spirit.

DOEG

Yes; is on him swift
As never before, and as a drunkenness.

ABNER

Then, safe to leave him?

DOEG

Will he brook denial?

ABNER

And Merab, too, will soon be here.

DOEG

Well, come.

ABNER

I’ll go and look upon him.

[Goes to Saul’s cave and returns.]

Already he sleeps.

[Turning they encounter Michal entering, still disguised. She quails.]

Woman, who are you, who?

MICHAL

Unclean! away!

DOEG

Unclean? a leper? in this place? Are there
No stones to stone you? Hence! And had I not
A brother such as thou——

MICHAL

Pity! Unclean!

[She goes quickly; then they. A space. Then she returns trembling, fearful.]

I’ll call him! I will save him!—David! David!—
I his discomfiture and ruin!—David!
David! hear me! David!

[Searching, she approaches the cave where Saul lies, but recoils terrified.]

The king! my father!
I cannot—am not—whither shall I, whither?

[Confused she flees, as scuffling is heard, and Abishai and Abiathar, struggling with David, appear.]

DAVID

Loose me, I say. ’Twas Michal and she called.
[Breaking free.] I say that it was she!

ABIATHAR

Foolhardy, no.
Return into the cave, and ere too late!

[Merab, veiled, enters behind them.]

DAVID

’Twas Michal and no other.

ABIATHAR

You are duped.

DAVID

The breathing of archangels could not so
Have swung the burden from me as her call.

[Searching, he faces—and beholds Merab. His look grows to coldness.]

MERAB

It is not Michal.

DAVID

No—it is not Michal.

[He motions Abiathar and Abishai aside.]

MERAB

Yet it is one who——

DAVID

Need not lift her veil
Or longer stay. The path she came is open.

MERAB

I’m here—and here will speak! I’ve hither stolen,
Yearning—I say it—yearning—and I will.

DAVID

These words I do not know.

MERAB

Because you will not.
More all-devouring than a Moloch is
This love within me——

DAVID

Love and you are twain,
As sun and Sheol.

MERAB

False. I am become
For want of you as famine-wind, a wave
In the mid-tempest, with no rest, no shore.

DAVID

I do not hear the unashamed words
Of one who has but recently another,
Adriel, wedded.

MERAB

You refuse me then?

DAVID

I beg you but to cease.

MERAB

Goaded, chagrined?
No, but this will I do. The Philistines,
For long at rioting within their walls,
Gather again and break toward Gilboa.…

DAVID

This is not true.

MERAB

To-morrow must my father
From hunting you return and arm for battle.
But—many would that you were king.

DAVID

Were?…

MERAB

King!

DAVID

I do not understand your eyes.

MERAB

I will
For love of you arouse rebellion up,
Murmur about the host your heaven-call,
And lift you to the kingdom.

DAVID

To the—stay!
Your words again.

MERAB

The kingdom.

DAVID

Awful God!

MERAB

What is your mien? you will not?

DAVID

Twice the words—
Full from her lips—and to betray her father.

[Abiathar discovers Saul.]

MERAB

You will not? answer!

DAVID

Odious utterly!
As yonder sea of death and bitter salt,
As foam-girt Joppa of idolatry,
As Memphian fane of all abhorrencies!
Morning would move with horror of it, noon
A livid sepulchre of shame span o’er,
And night shrink to remember day had been!

MERAB

You scorn—you scorn me?

DAVID

Jonathan! your sister!

MERAB

Then Saul shall rend you dead. And Jonathan!…

[She laughs shrilly.]

Perchance you have not heard that Jonathan
Knows to the Philistines you fled—and loathes you!

DAVID

I have not heard.

MERAB

Nor have not, ah? how Michal
Is given to the embraces of another?

[David shrinks.]

You desperately breathe and pale at last?

[She laughs more bitterly.]

To me for aid, to me, you yet shall come.

[She goes. David slowly lifts his hand to his brow in heavy pain. Abiathar—and soon Abishai—abruptly descends from the cave to him.]

ABIATHAR

David——

DAVID

Leave me.

ABIATHAR

Not till you know—and strike!

DAVID

I tell you go.

ABIATHAR

I tell you ’tis the king.

DAVID

Who breaks forbearance—yes.

ABIATHAR

Who lieth yonder,
And sleeping lieth—for a thrust to end.

DAVID

[His sword quickly out, struggling.]

This throb and wounds that wring me! and this wail
Under the deeps of me against his wrongs,
Awakening remembrance that with burst
And burn of pain.… O, never-ceasing ill!

[Flings the sword down, anguished.]

ABIATHAR

You will not come?

DAVID

The sun is set.

ABIATHAR

Has Saul
Hunted you to this desert’s verge——?

DAVID

Enough!

ABIATHAR

Has he pursued you, all his hate unleashed?
Is Samuel not slain? the priests? my father?
The kingdom is not in decay, and falls?
You are not prophecy’s anointed one?
Seize up the sword and strike—or I myself!

DAVID

Or … you yourself…?

[Silently he puts them aside, takes up the sword, and slowly goes into Saul’s cave.]

ABISHAI

What will he do? Listen!

[Michal enters unseen.]

ABIATHAR

If Saul cries out.…

ABISHAI

Be ready.…

MICHAL [To them.]

What is this!

[David, haggard, with drawn sword and a piece of Saul’s cloak in his hand, re-enters from the cave. He sees Michal, pauses, and gazes upon her, as she on him, with rising emotion.]

MICHAL [Inarticulate. Then.]

Ah, you have slain—
Have slain him! Wretch! thou wretch!
And sleeping as he was!

DAVID

Then it was you?
In lying rags?

MICHAL

Have struck him in his sleep!
And merciless!—And now will kill me, too?

DAVID

In faithless rags? You are the leper? Who

[Growing frenzied.]

Drove me a prey unto this wilderness!
Upon the blot of it and death and sear!
The silence, burning, and relentless swoon!
You are the leper, who have broken troth
And shut the cry of justice from your breast!
Who’ve stifled me with desolation’s woe,
Who’ve followed still and still have me betrayed!

MICHAL

Betrayed? No, loose me!

DAVID

Slain thy father? slain?

[Flinging the piece of Saul’s cloak at her feet.]

See how I might—see, see you, yonder he lies
A king who quits the kingdom, though a cloud
Of Philistines is foaming toward Gilboa;
Jeoparded leaves it, undefended, for
Pursuit of me and pitiless harrying!
A king who murders priests.…

MICHAL

Priests?

DAVID

Stifles God
With penitence that he has shaped the world!
Have slain? have slain him! I have slain him! Ah!
Ah, that I had thy falseness and could slay him!

MICHAL

David!…

DAVID

Nevermore near me! never with
That quivering and tenderness of lure.
Those eyes that hold infinity of fate,
That breathing cassia-sweet, but sorcery!

MICHAL

Oh.…

DAVID

Never thy presence pouring beauty, swift,
And seething in the brain as frantic wine!
I’ll be no more enspelled of thee—never!
I will not hear thee and be wound by words
Into thy wile as wide as Ashtoreth’s,
Back into hope, eternity of pain!

[In agony he goes, Abiathar and Abishai after. Michal stands gazing fearlessly before her, as Saul, awakened, slowly comes from the mouth of the cave down toward her.]

[CURTAIN.]