University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

ABSALOM—ISRAELITES.
Abs.
It must not be, my friends! my loyalty
So combates with my feelings for your woes
That I must fly the strong seducing charm
Or deviate from the strict and narrow path
That filial duty points! The royal wrath
Already burns, because I dar'd to ask
Some relaxation of your bonds! alas!
My voice is discord in my father's ear
It sounds a raven's note! some other strain
More tuneable may reach the regal sense
And touch the nerve of pity! They, whose spells
Build up the high, invisible mound, that bars
All access from the people to their King,
Can seal his eyes, when the inhuman son
Expells his father, and let Piety
Be chac'd with scorn from Salem's sacred streets.
Yet should I lift my voice at Israel's wrong
How would they conjure up the deadly forms
Of foul revolt, and charge me with the crime
Of most unnatural treason? Let this plead
Your friend's excuse, who must in silence mourn
But dare not vent his grief in aught but tears
Farewell my friends! be patient, and resign'd.

[Exeunt severally Absalom and Israelites.
Manent HUSHAI and BENAIAH.
Ben.
Such is the oil that subtle Arlist pours
Upon the flame, and bids it blaze the more;
His secret machinations cannot still
Be hid, as now; the conflagration soon
(I fear) will blaze his practice to the world
And show the danger, when beyond a cure.

Bush.
O for a man to cross the deadly spell!
A friend to King and people both at once
Whose worth might add a dignity, and give
His words due aim and weight to reach the ear
Of monarchs with effect; and touch the soul!
Not like those random and uncertain shafts
Of declamation, wing'd by every wind
That fluttering fly, and fall without a scope.—

Ben.
Unless the mandate be already given
To the destroying angel not to spare,
I know the man could stand within the breach,
Could stop th'invading pest and teach the King
To ward the danger off, a man beloved
By Israel, and his monarch's chosen friend!

Hush.
Name him!

Ben.
Your eyes were witness to his worth
Not many days ago!

Hush.
Uriah!

Ben.
He
Or none, could heal the growing malady
Which else might turn a gangrene!

Hush.
Hope suggests
That the late message of the King portends
Immediate exaltation, and high trust
To him—some powerful reasons could be given.

Ben.
True—friend!—and so I thought, when I perceiv'd
No common messenger employ'd, but one
Whose searching eye thro' courts and camps pervades
And like a sun-beam spies the latent ill.

Hush.
To me such courtly language—from a friend—

Ben.
Pardon me—but I guess'd (tho' little skill'd
Or studious in the mystic things of state
To pry) that, not alone to call the friend
Of David, you were sent, but to explore
Whether, with fervent zeal, or lukewarm love
In Israel's camp the General's name is breath'd.

Hush.
You know the humours of a camp, my friend!
How liberal of reproach against their chief
Even him that all would bleed for—but in Joab
I fear that jealous and malignant spirit
Still lives, that cost the friend of Saul so dear.

Ben.
What reason have you to suspect so deep?

Hush.
The mandate of his monarch he receiv'd
With martial dignity, but, when he learn'd
The message for Uriah, o'er his cheek
Past, in a twinkling, all the varying hues
Of close conflicting passion, till his art
Seren'd the ruffling storm; that night I stay'd,
Next morn I sought the General! but I found
Admittance was deny'd.

Ben.
To David's envoy?—
This was a strain of insolence indeed!

Hush.
This sturdy opposition will be found
Perhaps, the child of fear, a conscience gall'd
With guilt, for if to rumour we may trust
Under the shadow of a moonless night
This great commander, like a felon, stole
From his pavilion, and the trenches past.—

Ben.
What proof of this, besides malignant fame?

Hush.
His brother's doubled vigilance and care,
His trumpet singly call'd the host to arms
The absent General's part he well sustain'd
From wing to wing he travers'd all the host
And kindled up the slumb'ring war anew.

Ben.
Nor yet appear'd the Chief? and was it fear
Or sullen indignation that withheld
The General?

Hush.
Time his purpose may disclose;
Meanwhile, conjecture dogs his lonely steps
Over the burning waste to Tadmor's bounds
Where those, whom late his lifted vengeance spar'd
On the dry skirts of Midian, wait the sign
To leave those wilds, where parching thirst abides
And settle on Samaria's water'd vales
Like locusts.—Others think his course is turn'd
Among the tribes of Israel to foment
Revolt and war.

Ben.
To me, this enterprize
Seems foreign to his bent: is he a man
On bare suspicion to forsake his post?
Would he the rebels daring flag unfurl
And fling his fortune in the dubious scale
Of wild domestic rage, because her lord
Sent for a faithful servant from the camp?
It bears no semblance of his ancient art
He would not plunge himself in Jordan's flood
Because, in thought, he heard a lion roar?

Hush.
Yes—he will plunge,—but like a water snake
Close vigilance must watch the passing stream
For none can tell to what unhappy shore
The monster first will point his crested head.
—All yet is dubious, but his flight!

Ben.
And we,
Shall we conceal those tidings from the King?
'Tis fit he knew the dangers full extent!

Hush.
Far, far beyond the limits of the camp
(If I conjecture right) the danger spreads
And much more near, than Tadmor's burning sands
Or even than Jordan's bounds!

Ben.
Too true: alas!
The democratic spirit spreads abroad,
Like a proud overpeering flood it sweeps,
And levels all distinction, scorns all rule,
As if the waves should lift their foamy heads
To dash their empress from her throne of light
Whose silver wand their mighty motion sways
Uriah's popularity and skill
Might fix the helm of empire in his hand,
And bid the menac'd barque out-ride the storm.

Hush.
Or, to surprize him with unwonted honours
Or profit by his counsel; David brings
At such a time, the soldier from his post—
But it were well if some experienc'd friend
Would meet the warriour, ere he sees the King
And hint some useful topics for the times
Such as the smooth-tongued courtier dreads to use
But which a soldier's candour might enforce
And amplify with fearless eloquence.

Ben.
Is he arriv'd?

Hush.
A few short hours will see
The warriour here.

Ben.
These moments must be us'd
To counsel your brave friend, how best to serve
His country and his King.—I go to find
That friend who in his inmost bosom lives
Who best can sire his zeal, or suage his flame.

[Ex. severally.