University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE FOURTH.

Saul, Jonathan, Abner, Ahimelech, Soldiers.
Ab.
King, if thy presence I behold once more,
Ere streams of hostile blood by my means flow,
To this by mighty reasons am I urged.
David, the champion, the invincible,
He who our victory or defeat decides,
David is fled, and none knows whither fled.
Scarce is an hour now wanting to the time
Appointed for attack: now, hear'st thou not
The warriors, chafing with impatient ardour,
Fill with loud cries the air; the earth resound,
Beaten with iron hoof of fiery steeds:
Howlings and neighings, and the blaze of helms,
And brandish'd swords, and fulminating shouts,
Enough to make the veriest coward valiant;
Yet who sees David? Who brings tidings of him?—
Behold, (the authentic succour of the Almighty!)
Behold, who in the camp stands in his place.
This man, in soft, white, sacerdotal stole
Enveloped, having gain'd the camp by stealth,
Tremblingly slunk beside the Benjamites,
Behold him; hear from him the lofty cause
Which to such peril guides him.

Ahi.
I will speak it,
If not forbidden by the king's displeasure.

Sa.
The king's displeasure! Thou dost then deserve it! ...
Traitor, and who art thou? ... It seems to me
That I should know thee well. Art thou not one
Of that fantastical and haughty flock
Of Rama's fanatics?

Ahi.
I wear the ephod:
I, of the Levites chief, to holy Aaron,
In that high ministry, to which the Lord
Elected him, after a long descent
Of other consecrated priests, succeed.
Near to the sacred ark in Nob I'm station'd:
Th'ark of the covenant in former times
Stood in the centre of the camp; but now
'Tis deem'd too much, if e'en clandestinely
That camp is enter'd by God's minister:
Where Saul is monarch, a strange visitant
The priest is held; but he is not so, no,
Where Israel fights; if still, as formerly,
Through God we triumph. Dost thou not know me?
What wonder? Dost thou better know thyself?—
Thou hast withdrawn thy footsteps from God's path;
And I within the tabernacle dwell,
Where dwells the great Jehovah, there, where thou
For a long time, oh Saul, hast not been seen.
I tell thee, king, I am Ahimelech.

Sa.
That name proclaims thee, as thou art, a traitor:
Now art thou recognized. Before my sight
Thou comest opportunely. Now confess,
Art thou not he, who to the banish'd David
Gav'st an asylum, nourishment, and safety,
Deliverance and arms? And say what arms!
Goliah's sacred sword, which, dedicate
To God, within the tabernacle hung,
Whence, with profane hand thou removed'st it,
And girded'st it on the perfidious foe
Of thy sole lord and king?—Thou comest, miscreant,
What doubt is there, with treason to the camp? ...

Ahi.
Assuredly I come there to betray thee;
Since on thy arms I come to entreat God
For victory, which he to thee denies;
Yes, I am he, that, with benignant hand,
Assisted David. But who is that David?
Of the king's daughter is not he the husband?
Not the most valiant 'mid thy men of valour?
Not the most graceful, most humane, most just,
Of Israel's sons? Say, is he not in war
Thy shield, and thy defender? And in peace,
Is he not in thy palace, with his songs,
The master of thy heart? The love of maidens,
The people's joy, the terror of our foes?
Such, such was he that I presumed to rescue.
And thou thyself, didst thou not erewhile chuse him
For the first honours? Not select his arm
To guide thy battles? To bring back once more
The shout of victory to the camp? To chase
That terror of defeat, which in thy heart
Thy God hath placed? If thou condemnest me,
Thou, at the same time, dost condemn thyself.

Sa.
Whence, whence in you springs pity? whence in you
Inveterate priests, revengeful, thirsty ever
For human blood? To Samuel did it seem
A crime unpardonable that I slew not
Th'Amalekitish king, with arms in hand,
Taken in flight; a mighty king, a warrior,
Of ardent generous temper, and profuse
Of his own life-blood in his people's service.
Unhappy king! dragg'd in my presence, he
Came manacled; yet he preserved, though vanquish'd,
A noble pride, as far from insolence,
As from all abjectness. Of courage guilty
To cruel Samuel he appear'd: three times
In his defenceless bosom did he plunge,
With sacerdotal hand, the reeking sword.
These are your triumphs, these, vile fanatics.
But he who dares to lift his haughty brow
Against his lawful monarch, he, in you,
Finds an asylum, a support, a shield,
All other objects occupy your hearts
More than the altar. Who are, who are ye?
A selfish, cruel, and malignant tribe,
Who yourselves shelter'd, at our dangers laugh,
And kirtled in effeminate robes, presume
To govern us who sweat in cumbrous mail:
Us, who, 'mid blood-shed, apprehension, death,
Lead, for our wives, our children, and yourselves,
Lives of perpetuated wretchedness.
Cowards, less dignified than prating gossips,
Would you with lithe wands, and fantastic hymns,
O'er us, and o'er our weapons, arbitrate.

Ahi.
And thou, who art thou? of the earth a king:
But in God's sight who reigns?—Examine, Saul,
Thyself; thou only art crown'd nothingness.—
I, by myself am nothing; but I am
A thunderbolt, a whirlwind, and a tempest,
If God descends in me; that mighty God
Who fashion'd thee; who scarcely bends his eye
On thee, and where is Saul?—It ill fits thee
To plead the cause of Agag; foolishly
Dost thou pursue him in forbidden paths.
For a perverse king, save the hostile sword,
Is there a punishment? And does a sword
Smite unpermitted by Almighty God?
God writes his vengeances in adamant;
Nor to Philistia's, less than Israel's sons,
Does he commit them.—Tremble, Saul: I see
Already in a sable cloud on high,
Death's dreadful angel poised on fiery wings.
Already with one hand hath he unsheathed
The pitiless, retributory sword;
And with the other, from thy guilty head
He plucks thy hoary tresses: tremble, Saul.—
There is who doth impel thee to destruction:
'Tis he; this Abner, instrument of Satan;
He, who hath poison'd with suspicions vile
Thy aged heart; he who hath dwindled thee
From a crown'd warrior to a less than child.
Thou, thou infatuate man, dost now remove
The only true and steadfast prop of thee
And of thy house. Where is the house of Saul?
On quicksands it is built; it shakes already;
It falls; it moulders into dust; 'tis gone.—

Sa.
Prescient of my calamities art thou,
And not so of thy own. Hast thou not seen,
Ere to the camp thou camest, that death here
Awaited thee? this I predict; and soon
Shall Abner's hand this prophecy fulfil.—
My faithful Abner go, and change at once
All the arrangements of the impious David;
For every one of them conceals a plot.
To-morrow fight we with the rising sun,
The beauteous day-star, of my hardihood
Shall be the witness. I am now aware,
That from malignity the thought arose
In David's breast, to chuse the afternoon
For the attack, as most indicative
Of my declining arm: but we shall see.—
I feel my martial spirits braced afresh
By thy rebukes; to-morrow I am leader:
The entire day will be inadequate
To the great slaughter which I shall inflict.
Abner, now quickly from my presence drag
This miscreant, and dispatch him.

Jon.
I beseech thee,
Father, reflect a little ...

Sa.
Hold thy peace.—
He shall be slain; and his unworthy blood
Shall fall on the Philistines.

Ab.
Death is his
Already ...

Sa.
But to satisfy my vengeance
He only is too little. Let Nob feel
That vengeance also; let it smite, consume,
Servants, and cattle, mothers, houses, babes,
And to the desolating winds disperse
All the flagitious race. Thy priests may now
Exclaim with truth, “There is a Saul!”—My hand,
So oft by you provoked to homicide,
Never smote you: from hence, and hence alone
You scorn that hand.

Ahi.
No king can hinder me
From dying like a just man; whence my death
Will be as welcome as it is illustrious.
Yours, for a long time, by Almighty God
Hath been irrevocably seal'd. By swords,
Yet not in battle, not by hostile swords,
Abner and thou shall both be vilely slain.
Let me go hence.—I have at last address'd
God's final sentence to a reprobate,
And he is deaf: my mission is accomplish'd:
I have lived faithful, faithful shall I die.

Sa.
Quick let him hence be dragg'd to punishment;
To agonizing and protracted death.