 | Saul |  |
SCENE THE SECOND.
Jonathan, Michal, Saul, Abner.Jon.
Peace
Be with my king.
Mi.
And God be with my father.
Sa.
Grief always is with me.—I rose to-day
Before my custom'd hour, in joyful hope ...
But, like a vapour of the desert, hope
Hath disappear'd already.—Oh my son,
What boots it now the battle to defer?
To dread defeat is worse than to endure it.
And let us once endure it:—Let us fight
To-day; I will it.
Jon.
We to-day shall conquer.
Father, resume thy hopes: hope never shone
With more authentic brightness on thy prospects.
Ah, recompose thy looks! my heart is big
With presages of victory. All this plain
Shall with the bodies of our foes be cover'd;
And to the ravenous vultures will we leave
A horrid banquet ...
Mi.
To a calmer spot
Within thy palace we will soon repair,
Oh father. There, amid thy palms enthroned,
Joyful thyself, thou, by restoring to her
Her much-loved husband, wilt restore to life
Thy desolate daughter ...
Sa.
... Evermore in tears? ...
Are these, indeed, the pleasing objects doom'd
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Art thou a solace thus to my just grief?
Daughter of tears, depart; go; leave me; vanish.
Mi.
Alas! ... Thou would'st not, father, that I wept? ...
Father, and who in everlasting tears
Now keeps me, if not thou?
Jon.
Refrain; would'st thou
Be irksome to thy father?—Saul, take comfort:
A minister of war and victory
Stands in the camp; a spirit of salvation,
With dawning light descended from the skies,
Which o'er all Israel's host will spread to-day
His brooding wings. A certainty of conquest,
E'en to thy heart, will quickly circulate.
Sa.
Now, perhaps, thou would'st that I should take a part
In thy weak transports? I?—What victory?
What spirit comes? ... Let us all weep. To-day
That venerable oak, torn up, will shew
Its squalid roots, where heretofore it spread
Its stately branches to the gales of Heaven.
All, all is weeping, tempest, blood, and death.
Rend, rend your garments; scatter on your hair
Polluting dust. Yes, this day is the last;
To us the final day.
Ab.
Oft have I said it:
Your importuning presence evermore
Redoubles his fierce pangs.
Mi.
And what? Must we
Leave our beloved father?
Jon.
At his side
Presumest thou alone to stand? Dost thou
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Sa.
What, what is this?
Rage sits upon the faces of my sons.
Who, who has wrong'd them? Abner, thou perchance?
These are my blood; dost not know that? ... Remember ...
Jon.
Ah yes! we are thy blood; and for thy sake
Hold ourselves ready all our blood to shed ...
Mi.
When at thy hands my consort I require,
Am I by selfish love alone impell'd?
I ask of thee the champion of thy people,
The terror of Philistia, thy defender.
In thy disconsolate fantastic hours,
And in thy fatal presages of death,
Ah! did not David sometimes solace thee
With his celestial music? Was not he
A beam of joy to thy benighted soul?
Jon.
And I, thou knowest if I wear a sword.
But what boots that, if the resounding steps
Of Israel's warrior to my steps give not
The law supreme? Should we of fighting speak
Were David here? We had already conquer'd.
Sa.
Oh times long past! ... Oh my illustrious days
Of joyful victory! ... Lo! they throng before me—
Triumphant images of past success.
I from the camp return, with bloody sweat
All cover'd, and with honourable dust.
And praises to the Lord ... I praise the Lord!
The ears of God are deafen'd to my voice;
Mute is my lip ... Where is my glory, where?
Where is the blood of my slain enemies?
Jon.
Thou would'st have all in David ...
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But with thee
David is not, oh no: to banishment
Thou drov'st him from thy presence, sought'st his death ...
David, thy son, thy noblest ornament,
Modest and docile; more than lightning swift
To obey thee; and in loving thee more warm
Than thy own children. Father, ah! desist ...
Sa.
Tears from my eyes are gushing! Who hath thus
Forced me to unaccustom'd tenderness? ...
Compel me not to weep.
Ab.
I counsel thee,
Oh king, withdraw from hence to thy pavilion.
Thy marshall'd forces, ready for the combat,
Ere long I will display to thee.—Now come;
And be convinced that nothing is in David ...
| Saul | |