Classic Poem

[SCENE X.]

S EMEI solus .

Sem. The man of Israel that hath ruled as king,
Or rather as the tyrant of the land,
Bolstering his hateful head upon the throne
That God unworthily hath blessed him with,
Shall now, I hope, lay it as low as hell,
And be deposed from his detested chair.
O, that my bosom could by nature bear
A sea of poison, to be poured upon
His cursed head that sacred balm hath graced
And consecrated King of Israel!
Or would my breath were made the smoke of hell,
Infected with the sighs of damned souls,
Or with the reeking of that serpent's gorge
That feeds on adders, toads, and venomous roots,
That, as I opened my revenging lips
To curse the shepherd for his tyranny,
My words might cast rank poison to his pores,
And make his swoln and rankling sinews crack,
Like to the combat blows that break the clouds
When Jove's stout champions fight [in air] with fire.
See where he cometh that my soul abhors!
I have prepared my pocket full of stones
To cast at him, mingled with earth and dust,
Which, bursting with disdain, I greet him with.

D AVID , J OAB , A BISAI , T IHAY , with others

Come forth, thou murderer and wicked man:
The lord hath brought upon thy cursed head
The guiltless blood of Saul and all his sons,
Whose royal throne thy baseness hath usurped;
And, to revenge it deeply on thy soul,
The Lord hath given the kingdom to thy son,
And he shall wreak the traitorous wrongs of Saul:
Even as thy sin hath still importuned heaven,
So shall thy murders and adultery
Be punished in the sight of Israel,
As thou deservest, with blood, with death, and hell.
Hence, murderer, hence!
Abis. Why doth [t]his dead dog curse my lord the king?
Let me alone to take away his head.
Dav. Why meddleth thus the son of Zeruia
To interrupt the action of our God?
Semei useth me with this reproach
Because the Lord hath sent him to reprove
The sins of David, printed in his brows
With blood, that blusheth for his conscience' guilt;
Who dares, then, ask him why he curseth me?
Sem. If, then, thy conscience tell thee thou hast sinned,
And that thy life is odious to the world,
Command thy followers to shun thy face;
And by thyself here make away thy soul,
That I may stand and glory in thy shame
Dav. I am not desperate, Semei, like thyself,
But trust unto the covenant of my God,
Founded on mercy, with repentance built,
And finished with the glory of my soul.
Sem. A murderer, and hope for mercy in thy end!
Hate and destruction sit upon thy brows
To watch the issue of thy damned ghost,
Which with thy latest gasp they'll take and tear,
Hurling in every pain of hell a piece
Hence, murderer, thou shame to Israel,
Foul lecher, drunkard, plague to heaven and earth!
Joab. What, is it piety in David's thoughts,
So to abhor from laws of policy
In this extremity of his distress,
To give his subjects cause of carelessness?
Send hence the dog with sorrow to his grave.
Dav. Why should the sons of Zeruia seek to check
His spirit, which the Lord hath thus inspired?
Behold, my son which issued from my flesh,
With equal fury seeks to take my life:
How much more then the son of Jemini,
Chiefly since he doth naught but God's command?
It may be, he will look on me this day
With gracious eyes, and for his cursing bless
The heart of David in his bitterness.
Sem. What, dost thou fret my soul with sufferance?
Oh, that the souls of Isboseth and Abner,
Which thou sent'st swimming to their graves in blood,
With wounds fresh bleeding, gasping for revenge,
Were here to execute my burning hate!
But I will hunt thy foot with curses still:
Hence, monster, murderer, mirror of contempt!

Enter A HIMAAS and J ONATHAN .

Ahi. Long life to David, to his enemies death!
Dav. Welcome, Ahimaas and Jonathan:
What news sends Cusay to thy lord the king?
Ahi. Cusay would wish my [sovereign] lord the king
To pass the river Jordan presently,
Lest he and all his people perish here;
For wise Achitophel hath counselled Absalon
To take advantage of your weary arms,
And come this night upon you in the fields.
But yet the Lord hath made his counsel scorn,
And Cusay's policy with praise preferred;
Which was to number every Israelite,
And so assault you in their pride of strength.
Jonath. Abiathar besides entreats the king
To send his men of war against his son,
And hazard not his person in the field.
Dav. Thanks to Abiathar, and to you both,
And to my Cusay, whom the Lord requite;
But ten times treble thanks to his soft hand
Whose pleasant touch hath made my heart to dance,
And play him praises in my zealous breast,
That turned the counsel of Achitophel
After the prayers of his servant's lips.
Now will we pass the river all this night,
And in the morning sound the voice of war,
The voice of bloody and unkindly war.
Joab. Then tell us how thou wilt divide thy men,
And who shall have the special charge herein.
Dav. Joab, thyself shall for thy charge conduct
The first third part of all my valiant men;
The second shall Abisai's valour lead;
The third fair Ithay, which I most should grace
For comfort he hath done to David's woes;
And I myself will follow in the midst.
Ith. That let not David; for, though we should fly,
Ten thousand of us were not half so much
Esteemed with David's enemies as himself:
Thy people, loving thee, deny thee this.
Dav. What seems them best, then, that will David do.
But now, my lords and captains, hear his voice
That never yet pierced piteous heaven in vain;
Then let it not slip lightly through your ears; —
For my sake spare the young man Absalon
Joab, thyself didst once use friendly words
To reconcile my heart incensed to him;
If, then, thy love be to thy kinsman sound,
And thou wilt prove a perfit Israelite,
Friend him with deeds, and touch no hair of him, —
Not that fair hair with which the wanton winds
Delight to play, and loves to make it curl,
Wherein the nightingales would build their nests,
And make sweet bowers in every golden tress
To sing their lover every night asleep:
O, spoil not, Joab, Jove's fair ornaments,
Which he hath sent to solace David's soul!
The best, ye see, my lords, are swift to sin;
To sin our feet are washed with milk of roes,
And dried again with coals of lightening.
O Lord, thou see'st the proudest sin's poor slave,
And with his bridle pull'st him to the grave!
For my sake, then, spare lovely Absalon.
Ith. We will, my lord, for thy sake favour him.