University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

The top of Mount Olivet, crowded with fugitives from Jerusalem: King David, surrounded by his household, worshipping: the Cherethites and Pelethites restrain the People from pressing upon him. Joab, Benaiah, and other armed Chiefs, marshalling the multitude.
Ben.
Go bid yon loiterers hasten over Kedron,
If they would march with us.

Joab.
Let them abide:—
Why crawl they after us?—What seest thou, ho?

(Addressing a Soldier stationed in a tree above him.)
Soldier.
Nothing, my lord, but people from the city
Hurrying this way.

Joab.
Look not on them, fool: fix
Thine eyes upon the south.

Soldier.
I do, my lord.

Joab.
What seest thou toward the Prince's pillar?

Soldier.
Nothing.

Joab.
On that same open height beyond it?

Soldier.
Nothing.

Joab.
Well, nail thine eyes there.—Will the old man's prayer
Stretch out till doom? Benaiah, we lose time;
We should be now beyond Bahurim.

Ben.
Be patient;
The stroke was bitter, and his heart seemed fraught
Almost to bursting.

Joab.
Better rive at once,
Than meet the tender mercies of his son
By loitering here. By Heaven, I'll rouse him—

Ben.
Hold,
Hold, Joab!

People.
Stand aside!—Back there!—The King!

(King David comes forward among the People: Enter Hushai, with his garments rent; he falls to the ground, and clasps the King's feet.)
Hush.
God save my lord the King! Live I to see
My master thus! the Light, the Rock of Israel!

K. Dav.
Once, Hushai, once the candle of the Lord
Beamed on my head, and, like a shadowing rock,
His buckler sheltered me. Thou seest me, now,
Dark and defenceless; all my leprous sins
Wrathfully visited upon my people.

First People.
What will become of us?

Second People.
Alas! alas!
Heaven hath forsaken us!

Third People.
Woe, woe, alas!

Joab.
(going among them.)
Peace with your howling! Peace! or ye shall feast
The wild beasts of the wilderness.—My lord,
We linger here while death is at our heels.

K. Dav.
Hushai.

Hush.
Command thy servant.

K. Dav.
Turn thou back:
Mix with his council: seem as they. Thy words
May blast Ahithophel's, whose malice, else,
Will work our ruin. With us thou canst nought.—
Abiathar and Zadok stay behind,
By my commandment, with the Ark. To them
Communicate what thou canst learn of import:
They will despatch it to me by their sons,
Where I shall wait them in the wilderness.

Joab.
Depart ere thou art seen.

Hush.
God guard the King,
And bring him home to Zion.

(Exit.)
Soldier.
(calling from the tree.)
Joab,—my lord,—I see the flash of arms
On that same hill.—The vanguard comes—and now
The horsemen.—

Joab.
Make they for the city?

Soldier.
Straight.

Joab.
Enough; descend.—Shall we advance?

K. Dav.
Is there conveyance for the household?

Joab.
None.

People.
Yes, Ziba's here with asses.

Second People.
Only two.

Joab.
(impatiently.)
Therefore, my lord, behoves us haste. Suppose
His horse o'ertake us in the open plain,
Cumbered with women?

K. Dav.
Bid the Pelethites
Take up the youngest. Place upon the beasts
Michal and Bathsheba. Send forward some
For mules and camels, if the villages
Or fields can yield us any.—Where's the Prophet?

Joab.
Yonder, with Solomon.—Art ready, Sir?

K. Dav.
Ittai, protect the rearward. Station one
To bring intelligence.—Command the signal.

Joab.
(to his trumpeter.)
Sound.

(Trumpet sounds: exeunt the King and People, guarded by the armed bands.)

SCENE II.

The palace: an antechamber of the council-hall: Officers of Absalom's Guard, Attendants, &c., in waiting.
First Off.
Will their debate ne'er end?

Second Off.
No, by the proverb,
Never: when gossip graybeards talk, the sun
Stands still.

Enter Hadad from the hall.
Had.
(to one of the Attendants.)
What, is she come yet?

Attend.
No, my lord.

Had.
(aside.)
This is His spite!—
You bore the signet?—saw the Princess?

Attend.
Yes, my lord.

Had.
Why didst thou not stay by her when thou saw'st
The streets in tumult?

Attend.
I was bid depart.

Had.
O curse!— (Turns angrily into the hall.)


First Off.
What clouds the Syrian? What 's amiss,
(To the Attendant.)
That Hadad bites his lip with such a frown?

Attend.
The Princess, Sir, is missing.

Officers.
Missing! Ha! (They gather round him.)

But how?

Attend.
It happened thus. Imploring leave
To come unto her father, he despatched
Permission by his signet; but she came not,
Though she had thrice entreated him with tears.
It since appears, refusing all attendance,
Except a slave, she went into the streets,
And has not since been heard of.

First Off.
When was this?

Attend.
About the hour of twilight.

First Off.
'T is dark night: (Looking out.)

The city 's in confusion: she may suffer
Some shameful outrage.

Attend.
That is feared indeed:
Bagoas raves, and tears his hair, and Hadad—

Re-enter Hadad.
Had.
Brave gallants of the guard, the King commands
Ye follow me. The Princess Tamar 's lost,
This riotous night, we fear, amidst the streets.
Ride six of you, for life, to every gate,
And bid them, in the King's name, suffer none
Pass outward.—Scatter through the streets your comrades;
Pierce sharply through the people;—scan the crowds.—
If ye espy her, send me instant news
To Zion gate by Gihon. On the bridge
'Twixt the two cities I will post myself.
Away! (Exeunt Officers of the Guard.)

(To one of the Attendants.)
—Come hither. Know'st thou that dark alley
Behind the Market-place?

Attend.
I do, my lord.

Had.
Run thither. Near a lattice thou wilt see
A low, dark man, in a Scribe's gaberdine,
Devoutly searching Moses, by a lamp
Niched in the wall. Say Hadad's treasure 's lost,—
The Princess,—lost in the unruly streets,
And spirited, perhaps, into some den
Of mischief. Bid him search, and come to me
Upon the western bridge o'er Gihon. Fly!
(Exit Attendant.)
Off—off—disperse yourselves in every quarter:—
If ye hear tidings, haste to me.—Stay thou
The King's forthcoming.—He shall be enriched,
Who first salutes me with intelligence.

(Exeunt.)

SCENE III.

The council-hall. Absalom, Ahithophel, Manasses, Malchiah, Hushai, and others, in debate: Ahithophel speaking.
Ahith.
My lord, you know them not;—you wear, to-day,
The diadem, and hear yourself proclaimed
With trump and timbrel Israel's joy, and deem
Your lasting throne established. Canst thou bless,
Or blast, like Him who rent the waters, clave
The rock, whose awful clangor shook the world
When Sinai quaked beneath his majesty?
Yet Jacob's seed forsook this thundering Guide,
Even at the foot of the astonished mount!—
If benefits could bind them, wherefore flames
The Ammonitish spoil upon thy brows,
While David's locks are naked to the night dew?
Canst thou transcend thy father? Is thy arm
Stronger than his who smote from sea to sea,
And girt us like a band of adamant?—
Trust not their faith. Thy father's root is deep:
His stock will bourgeon with a single sun;
And many tears will flow to moisten him.—
Pursue, this night, or ruin will o'ertake thee.

Ab.
What say'st thou, Hushai? Speak to this, once more.

Hush.
I listen to my lord Ahithophel,
As to a heaven-instructed oracle;
But what he urges more alarms my fears.
Thou seest, O King, how night envelopes us:
Amidst its perils, whom must we pursue?
The son of Jesse is a man of war,
Old in the field, hardened to danger, skilled
In every wile and stratagem; the night
More welcome than the day. Each mountain path
He treads instinctive as the ibex; sleeps,
Moistened with cold, dank drippings of the rock,
As underneath the canopy. Some den
Will be his bed to-night. No hunter knows
Like him, the caverns, cliffs, and treacherous passes;
Familiar to his feet, in former days,
As 'twixt the Court and Tabernacle! What!
Know ye not how his great heart swells in danger,
Like the old lion's from his lair by Jordan?—
Beware of him, by night, while chafed with anger.
Surprisal!—While we talk, they lurk in ambush,
Expectant of their prey: the Cherethites,
And those bloody-thirsty Gittites, crouch around him,
Like evening wolves: fierce Joab darts his eyes,
Keen as the leopard's, out into the night,
And curses our delay; Abishai raves;
Benaiah, Ittai, and the Tachmonite,
And they, the mighty three, who broke the host
Of the Philistines, and from Bethlehem well
Drew water, when the King but thirsted, now,
Raven like beasts bereaved of their young.—
We go not after boys, but the Gibborim,
Whose bloody weapons never struck but triumphed.

Malchi.
It were a doubtful quest.

Hush.
Hear me, O King.
Go not to night, but summon, with the dawn,
Israel's ten thousands; mount thy conquering car,
Surrounded by innumerable hosts,
And go, their strength, their glory, and their King,
Almighty to the battle; for what might
Can then resist thee? Light upon this handful,
Like dew upon the earth; or, if they bar
Some city's gates against thee, let the people
Level its puny ramparts, stone by stone,
And cast them into Jordan. Thus my lord
May bind his crown with wreaths of victory,
And owe his kingdom to no second arm.

Ahith.
O blindness! lunacy!

Hush.
I would retire;
Ye have my counsel.

Ahith.
Would thou hadst not come,
To linger out with thy pernicious talk
The hours of action.

Hush.
Wise Ahithophel,
No longer I'll offend thee. Please the King—

(Absalom waves him to resume his seat.)
Ahith.
By all your hopes, my lord, of life and glory,
I do adjure thee shut thine ears to him!
His counsel 's fatal, if not treacherous.
I see its issue, clearly as I see
The badge of royalty,—not long to sit
Where now it sparkles, if his words entice thee.—
Never was prudence in my tongue, or now.—
Blanched as I am, weak, withered, winter-stricken,
Grant but twelve thousand men, and I'll go forth.
Weary, weak-handed, what can they, if taken,
Now, in their first alarm?

Ab.
Were this resolved,
We would not task thy age. What think ye, Sirs?

Manass.
My lord, the risk is great: a night assault
Deprives us of advantage from our numbers,
Which in the open field insure success;
And news of a disaster blown about,
And magnified, just now, when all are trembling,
Might lose a Tribe, might wound us fatally.
Hushai's advice appears most prudent.

Ahith.
Fate!

Malchi.
I think so too, my lord.

Others.
And I. And I.

Ahith.
Undone!

Ab.
The council are agreed, this once,
Against you, and with them the King accords.

Ahith.
(stretching his hands toward Absalom.)
Against thyself—thy throne—thy life—thy all!—
Darkness has entered thee,—confusion waits thee,—
Death brandishes his dart at thee, and grins
At thy brief diadem!—Farewell! Farewell!—
Remember me!—I'll not be checked and rated,—
Branded with treason,—see my hoary hairs
Hooted and scoffed at, were they spared, indeed,
For such indignity.—Thou 'lt follow soon.

(Exit.)
Ab.
Or win or lose, we walk not by thy light.

Malchi.
The old man's strangely moved.

Manass.
His fury seemed
Prophetical.

Ab.
The council is dissolved,
Here to assemble in the morning early,
To order for our absence. Leave us now
To private business.

Counsellors.
Save our lord the King.

(Exeunt.)

SCENE IV.

The bridge over Gihon by the corner of Millo, between the upper and lower city: illuminations seen on the housetops: sounds of nocturnal riot and confusion in the streets: Hadad walking impatiently backwards and forwards on the bridge. Distant shouts.
Had.
(listening.)
Mouthed brutes!—King Absalom!—King Log!—I care not—
Zion sanctissime!—How bloodily
The fires of jubilee flash to the clouds!—
Or wind, or thunder's mustering! Their pale faces,
Huddled upon the housetops, look like ghosts
Come fresh from battle. Yea, were our grim confines
Peopled, polluted with a herd like this,
They were infernal. Thieves, beggars, bravoes, base
Nethinims, harlots, tattered prodigals
Flock from their holes to shout for Absalom!
The filth of Jebus—Ha! what cry is that?
(Listens anxiously.)
Where can they loiter?—Should some ruffian clasp
Her peerless beauty! Well, His sanctitude
Suffers:—there 's comfort. Hark! a rabblement
Hoots this way.—Let me shun their drunken madness.

(Retires into the shade of Millo: enter a Crowd from the lower city, shouting.)
First Crowd.
Hurrah for Absalom! King Absalom!

Second Crowd.
Down with the Graybeard!

Third Crowd.
Down with the Giant-queller!

Fourth Crowd.
Hold, Sirs,—hold, while I chant a canticle
Indited for next Feast of Tabernacles,
On that same doughty feat.

Fifth Crowd.
(drunk.)
A murrain take
Your canticles! Cry, “Long live Absalom!”

Fourth Crowd.
Whom have we there, my masters?—See ye not?
Bolt upright by the wall?—Rabbi, who art thou?
Emerge, I say:—come from the land of shadows:
Art thou for Absalom?

Had.
Ay.

Fifth Crowd.
Then show thyself.

Had.
I'm stationed by the King.

Crowd.
Molest him not;
He says he 's of our party.

Fifth Crowd.
Let him shout. (Approaches Hadad.)

Uplift thy voice. Wast thou born dumb?

Crowd.
Look! look!
What throng is that by David's Tower?

Second Crowd.
Hurrah! (Rushes up toward Zion: all follow.)


Had.
(resuming his station on the bridge.)
What nightmare sits on them! They might have groped
The Red Sea caves, the womb of Caucasus,
The den of Hiddekel—Ha! Maugrabin!
Maugrabin looks from behind an angle of the neighbouring wall, and enters.
Hast found her?—Speak!—

Maug.
No track of her.

Had.
Out, Incubus! Where hast thou idled?

Maug.
By Trismegistus! in this half short hour
I 've borne my clay so spitefully about,
That eyes which saw me doubted if they saw
Substance or shadow. Every den of mischief,
Cavern of booty,—every partlet roost,
Ha! ha! ha! compassed by these holy walls—
I 've peeped into, and sworn by Samaël
Hot night-caps if they touch a plume of her.
No fear:—they know the Fowler!

Had.
(after a moment's thought)
Follow.

(Exit hastily.)
Maug.
Whew!
Eloim gabbathi, Asmody!

(Exit after.)

SCENE V.

The court of the Tabernacle on Mount Zion, lighted by a fire upon the altar of burnt-offerings: the interior of the sanctum partially visible through the smoke of the incense burning there: Zadok and Abiathar standing by the altar.
Abi.
The night frowns darkly, and may burst in storm
Before our sons o'ertake the King. How, then,
Cross ruffled Jordan with the helpless household?

Zad.
Look not to me for cheering. Am not I
Dark as thyself?

Abi.
But thou didst charge the youths
So straitly to pass o'er.

Zad.
So Hushai bade.

Enter Tamar, attended by two ancient Jews.
Tam.
O, holy Priests! O, blessed Tabernacle!
Zadok,—Abiathar,—will ye protect me?

Zad.
(supporting her.)
Protect thee, Princess!—thou art with sure friends.
Whence comest thou?

Tam.
I know not—O! I know not.

Jew.
We rescued her from villains.

Zad.
Merciful!
What measure hath this dreadful day of wrath!

Jew.
We met her in a dark and lonely place,
West of Damascus' gate, dragged by two ruffians,
Her mouth close bound. Perceiving us approach,
They snatched the caul and circlet from her head,
Tore from her arms and neck the costly gems,
And plunged into the darkness.

Zad.
Blest be He
Whose mercy guided you!—How cam'st thou thus
Exposed?—Know ye? (to the Jews.)


Jew.
Hearing the Ark returned,
She bent her steps this way, to seek of you
Intelligence and comfort. In the dusk
And crowded streets, losing her sole attendant,
And borne amidst the tumult, she was seized
By those same wretches, her pretended guides.

Zad.
Ye 've saved the Princess Tamar. Let me know
Your worthy names.

Jew.
Barak and Mahlon, kinsmen,
Of Omri's house.

Zad.
The deed shall be rewarded,
If righteousness return. But leave the maid,—
We watch before the altar,—safer here,
In presence of the Lord, than with an host.

Tam.
Yes, leave me, leave me, friends.

Jew.
Farewell! may prayers
And sacrifice avert the threatened judgments.

(Exeunt Jews.)
Tam.
O, tell me, where is David?—I beheld him
Barefoot and weeping—Or was that a dream?—
Yourselves—the Levites—weeping round the Ark?

Zad.
Ah! that it were a dream!

Tam.
What hath befallen us?—
O, answer, ere I grow quite wild.

Zad.
David is driven forth.

Tam.
Where? where?

Abi.
We know not.

Zad.
Nor where, nor how: it fell upon our heads
Like sudden thunder.

Tam.
Were I but with him!—
Ye know not where he went?—O, doth he live?—
Have they not murdered him?—
(The Priests whisper together.)
—Enough! he is not!—

Zad.
Hearken, Princess,
For we may trust thee. David lives. He fled
Toward Jordan, promising to wait for tidings
In a concerted place—

Tam.
But will he scape?

Zad.
If he pass o'er to-night; and both our sons
Are sped to warn him.

Tam.
Did ye urge?—implore him?

Abi.
We counselled him, and he is wise of heart.

Zad.
Calm your perturbed spirits now: repose
Upon the Lord. His promises sustain
Our fainting hopes: His sacred presence dwells
Still in the Sanctuary, and forbids
Despair. Yes, when the Ark resumed its place,
The Glory settled 'twixt the Cherubim
With undiminished lustre.

Tam.
Then, there's hope—
But O!—my guilty father!— (Weeps bitterly.)


Zad.
Despair not: join with us in supplications.

Tam.
Why did they spare me! O, that I had died
When death was near!

Zad.
Disparage not thy rescuer;
Jehovah hears thee.—Kneel for his offences,
For Israel's, whose portentous sins may tempt
A retribution terrible and final.
Enter the Sanctuary, and uplift
Thy sorrowing heart, more prevalent than incense.

(They lead her into the Tabernacle.)

SCENE VI.

Without the vail of the court: Hadad attended by several of Absalom's guard: Maugrabin, at a little distance in the gloom, watching them.
Had.
I saw her there: she entered with the Priests.
Go in, and say the King commands her presence.
(The Guards pass into the court of the Tabernacle: Hadad remains, intently looking through the vail.)
Lo! lo!—the bloody shrine of sacrifice,—
The Cherub-tissued curtains,—the seven branches,
Revealing through the censer's smothering fume
The dim magnificence!—Each implement
As he prescribed.—These must be symbols, types
Of things hereafter.

Maug.
(muttering to himself.)
Tempt him, if thou wilt—
Pry in his secrets till devouring fire
Break out upon thee—Yea, within the snuff
Of that detested incense! How the wreaths
Begin to curl about him!—I'll not risk
Annihilation.

(Exit.)
Had.
Wherefore should I tremble?—
Mortals have gazed unblinded,—Moses saw
The lightning of his glory pass.—But I—
How could I front the terrible array,
If yonder vail should part?—One flash might end me!—
What holds them parleying? This abhorred smoke
Is worse than Sodom,—every breath I draw
Seems mortal agony.—Leave her I will not—
Re-enter Guards, with Tamar.
Mean ye to stay eternity?

First Guard.
We stay not.

Had.
Peace!

Second Guard.
(aside to his comrade.)
Look how convulsed and pale he is;
And see, his breast is bloody.

Had.
(fiercely.)
Get behind me.

(Throws his mantle across his breast, and conducts Tamar out, followed by the rest: she neither speaks, nor regards him.)