ACT III.
SCENE: A savage mountain-cliff in the wilderness of Engeddi. On either side gray crags rise rugged, sinking away precipitously across the back. Cut into each is a cave. The height is reached by clefts from all sides.
Between the crags to the East is the far blue of the Dead Sea; and still beyond, bathed in the waning afternoon, stretch the purple shores of Moab. During the act the scene grows crimson with sunset and a thunder-cloud rises over the sea.
Lying on a pallet of skins near the cliff’s verge, DAVID tosses feverishly. Three of his followers and a lad, who serves him, are gathered toward the front, ragged, hungry, and hunted, in altercation over a barley-cake.
DAVID
Water! the fever fills me, and I thirst.
Water!
FIRST FOLLOWER
Listen.
SECOND FOLLOWER
He calls.
DAVID
Water! I thirst.
THE LAD
Yes, yes, my lord. [Takes up a water-skin.] Ah, empty, not a quaff!
They’ve drunk it all from him! My lord, none’s left.
I’ll run and in the valley brim it soon.
[He goes. David sinks back.]
SECOND FOLLOWER [To First.]
You drank it then.
FIRST FOLLOWER
And should I thirst, not he?
Give me the bread.
SECOND FOLLOWER
If it would strangle you.
FIRST FOLLOWER
I’ll have it.
SECOND FOLLOWER
Or betray him? spitingly?
It is the last. Already you have eat.
And we are here within a wilderness.
FIRST FOLLOWER
Be it, but I’ll not starve.
THIRD FOLLOWER
He utters right.
Why should we but to follow a mere shepherd
Famish and o’er a hundred desert hills?
The prophecy portending him the throne—
Folly, not fate! though it is Samuel’s.
I’ll trust in it no more.
FIRST FOLLOWER
Nor I.
THIRD FOLLOWER
And Saul
Has driven us from waste to waste—pressed us
Even unto the Philistines for shelter,
And now unto this crag. And is not David’s
Thought but of Michal, not of smiting him
And, with a host, of leaping to the kingdom?
[David stirs to rise.]
FIRST FOLLOWER
He moves; peace!
THIRD FOLLOWER
Let him.
SECOND FOLLOWER
Peace.
THIRD FOLLOWER
And fawning too?
DAVID [Sufferingly]
Men—men, we must have news.
Perpetual,
Implacable they stare unto each other.
This rock and stony sky.
[Rises and comes down to them.] We must have news.
[They are silent.]
Longer is death. ’Tis overmany days
Of sighing and remembered verdancy;
Nor any dew or upward odor comes.
Who will go now and bring us word of Saul?
THIRD FOLLOWER
Have not Abishai, Abiathar,
And others gone?
DAVID
Bravely.
THIRD FOLLOWER
And none returned!
DAVID
Not one of all.
THIRD FOLLOWER
Well, then, we are not swine,
And life’s but once.
DAVID
So——?
THIRD FOLLOWER
We will follow you
No longer hungered and rewarded never,
But perilously ever.
DAVID
It is well.
[He looses a bracelet from his arm.]
This was a gift from Saul. In it is ease.
[Gives it to Third Follower, who goes.]
This ring was Jonathan’s. The jewel tells
Still of the sunny haven of his heart.
Upon my hand he pressed it—the day we leapt
Deeper than friends into each other’s love.
[Gives it to First Follower, who goes.]
This chain——
SECOND FOLLOWER
I want it not.
DAVID
You have not thought;
’Tis riches—such as Sidon marts and Tyre
Would covet.
SECOND FOLLOWER
I care not.
DAVID
None else is left.
SECOND FOLLOWER
No matter.
DAVID
Then——?
SECOND FOLLOWER
There was of Gibeah
A woman—dear to me. Her face at night
Weeping among my dreams.…
The prophecy
Is unfulfilled, and vain!
DAVID
And you would go?
SECOND FOLLOWER
The suffering—this cliff.
DAVID
I understand,
[Motions.] So, without any blame, and to content.
[The Second Follower falters, then goes.]
[Quietly.] A desolation left, of rock and air,
Of barren sea and bitterness as vast.
Thou hast bereft me, Saul! thou hast bereft!
[He moves up the cliff, gazes sadly away, then kneels by a stone, as to pray.]
My flesh cries for oblivion—to sink
Unwaking away into the Night … where is
No tears, but only tides of sleep.…
No, crieth
Not for Oblivion and Night, but for
Rage and revenge! Saul! Saul!… My spirit, peace.
As pants the heart for the water-brook, so I!
[He bows his head. Michal in rags that disguise, enters with the Lad, unseen.]
Her lips it was that hurled me unto this!
Yet, yet not violence on him and blood!
I must revenge’s call within me quell,
Though righteously it quivers and aflame.
[He goes slowly into the cave, Right.]
MICHAL
This is the place, then, this?
LAD
Yes, princess.
MICHAL
Here
So long in want and sickness he hath hid?
Under the livid day and lonelier night!
LAD
I brought him water, often.
MICHAL
Little lad!
But he has heard no word from me—not how
My father, Saul, frantic of my repentance,
Had unto Phalti, a new lord, betrothed me?
How then I fled to win unto these wilds?
LAD
He heard not anything—only the tales
I told of Moab, my own land.
[David plays within.]
But oh!
It is his harp.
MICHAL
And strains that weep o’er me!…
I’ll speak to him … and yet must be unknown!
A leper? as a leper could I…?
LAD
Why
Must he not know you?
MICHAL
Ask me not, lad, now;
But go a little.
LAD
Yes.
[He sets down the water-skin and goes.]
MICHAL [Delaying, then in a loud voice.]
Unclean! Unclean!
[Conceals her face in her hair.]
DAVID
Who crieth here?
MICHAL
Unclean!
DAVID [Appearing.]
Who cries unclean?
Poor leper in these wilds, who art thou?
MICHAL
One
Outcast and faint, forlorn!
DAVID
Then you have come
To one more bitter outcast than yourself,
One who has less than this lone void to give,
This sterile solitude and sun, this scene
Of leaden desolation that makes mad.
Who has no ease but cave or shading rock,
Or the still moon, or stars that glide the night.
One over whom——
MICHAL
Yet, pity!
DAVID
The pale hours
Flow dead into eternity.
MICHAL
Ah, yet…!
DAVID
My cloak, then, for thy tattered limbs. Or, no—
This chain of Ophir for thy every need.
Once was it dear, but should be so no more.
[Flinging it to her.] Have it, and with it vanish memory
Out of my breast——
MICHAL
No, no.
DAVID
And from me fall
Link upon link her loveliness that bound.
MICHAL
Oh, do not!
DAVID
Woman…?
MICHAL
Nothing. A chain like this
I once beheld wind undulantly bright
O’er Michal, the king’s daughter.
DAVID
Woman, the king’s?
MICHAL
Pity!
DAVID
Who are you?
MICHAL
Stay! Unclean!
DAVID
A spy?
A spy of Saul and hypocrite have crept
Hither to learn…?
MICHAL
Have heed—unclean!
DAVID
How then
Wandering come you here?
MICHAL
Unclean! Unclean!
DAVID
My brain is overfull of fever, mad.
Almost and I had touched thy peril, held
Thy hideous contagion.
MICHAL
Wrong!
DAVID
Then who
Art thou to know and speak of her, of Michal?
MICHAL
One who has served the king.
DAVID
And you have seen
Michal, you have beheld her?
MICHAL
Once, when she
In face was fairer and in heart than now
They say she is.
DAVID
And heard her speak?
MICHAL
A night
Under the leaves of Gibeah—when she
Sang with another—David.
DAVID
Say no more.
MICHAL
And from afar, under the moon, blew faint
The treading of the wine-presses with song.
David she loved, but anger-torn betrayed,
Unworthy of him.
DAVID
Speak of her no more,
Nor of her cruelty, unless to pray
He she has ruined may forget her.
MICHAL
Yet
If deep she should repent——?
DAVID
Leper, no more.
[A moment; then a jackal’s cry shrills to them. David starts.]
The signal. [He listens.] Thrice repeated? Word at last?
[To Michal.] He who is near may prove to thee less kind.
[She goes. He springs to look down the cliff.]
Abishai? Abiathar? It is!
But staggering and wounded? breathless? torn?
[He watches, then turns to meet them. They enter—Abiathar with bloody ephod and broken breastplate—and sink in panting exhaustion.]
Abishai, what is it that you bring?
Abiathar, up! answer!
ABIATHAR
Water!
DAVID
Up!
[He brings the water-skin. They drain it fiercely.]
What is it now so fevered from you stares
And breathing too abhorrence? Gasp it out.
ABIATHAR
I stifle—in a universe—he still—
Has breath in.
DAVID
Saul?
ABIATHAR
I’ll scathe him! Scorpions
Of terror and remorse sting in his soul!
DAVID
If you have tidings, not in words so wild.
ABIATHAR
Then ask and hate shall calm me.
DAVID
Ask?
ABIATHAR
On, on!
Seek if he lives!
DAVID
Who?
ABIATHAR
Seek if prophecy
Founts yet in Judah!
DAVID
Samuel…?
ABIATHAR
Is dead!…
Dead—and of tidings more calamitous.
[A pause.]
DAVID [Hoarsely.]
Tell on. I hear.
ABIATHAR
Saul gloating to believe
The priests, assembled sacredly at Nob,
Plotted assisting you, hath had them——
DAVID
No…!
ABIATHAR
Slain at the hands of Doeg—murdered, all!
DAVID
But he—your father?
ABIATHAR
Was among them; fell.
[He stands motionless.]
DAVID [Gently.]
Abiathar, my friend!… Appeaseless Saul!
ABIATHAR
Hear all, hear all! Thy father, too, and mother,
Even thy kindred, out of Israel
Are driven into Moab; and this king,
Delirious still for blood as desert pard,
With Merab, whelp of him, and many armed,
Is near us now—aquiver at Engeddi
For your destruction:
[David struggles for control.]
And yet you will not strike.
DAVID
[Low.] No, but of Michal, tell me good at once,
Lest unendurable this lot, I may—
and mount o’er every oath into revenge.
ABIATHAR
Ha—Michal!
DAVID
She withholds her father’s wrath?
ABIATHAR
She’s well.
DAVID
Not if you say no more.
ABIATHAR
I know
Nothing of her.
DAVID
Your look belies.
ABIATHAR
Perhaps:
As did her love.
DAVID
That is for me.
ABIATHAR
Well, what?
A woman who betrays?
DAVID
Speak, not evade;
And judge her when earth has no mystery.
ABIATHAR
Then from your craving put her—wide; she is
Unworthy any tremor of your veins.
DAVID
Dawn-lilies under dew are then unworthy,
And nesting doves are horrible to heaven.
I will not so believe. Your reason…!
ABIATHAR
Saul
Has given her—and she will wed him, aye—
To Phalti, a new lord.
DAVID
Untrue of her!
ABIATHAR
Cry. Yet you will believe it.
DAVID
Not until
The verdant parable of spring is hushed
Ever of bloom, to prove it. Never till
Hermon is swung into the sea! until
The last void of the everlasting sky——
[Looking up he falters, breaks off, and is strangely moved at something beheld.]
ABIATHAR
What, what alarm?
ABISHAI
What stare you on?
ABIATHAR
He’s mad?
[David points. They look up.]
ABIATHAR
An eaglet!…
ABISHAI
Eaglet?
ABIATHAR
Pierct!
ABISHAI
Pierct?…
DAVID
Falling here.
And beating against death unbuoyantly.
[The bird, an arrow through it, drops in throes at their feet.]
A destiny, a fate in this is hidden!
[He bends over it, then quickly back.]
ABIATHAR
A destiny, how, how?
DAVID
The arrow!—His!
His, and no other’s. Quick, then, no delay.
ABIATHAR
Be clear, clearer.
DAVID
We are discovered—near
On us is death. Open the secret chamber
Within the cave, for from the bow of Saul
Is yonder bleeding—from no other.
ABIATHAR
Saul’s?
But how, was any here?
DAVID
To-day, to-day.
A leper wandering.
ABIATHAR
We are betrayed.
[Abishai with the water-skin hastens into the cave, Right. David and Abiathar stand listening. Noise of approach is heard.]
DAVID
They near.
ABIATHAR
And many.
DAVID
King of Israel!
Inexorable!
ABIATHAR
O, rebuke him, do!
DAVID
Almost I am beyond this tolerance.
ABIATHAR
In truth. Therefore it is you rise and shake
Out of his power the sceptre!
DAVID
Tempt me not!
Mercy and memory almost are dead,
And craving birth in me is fateful ire.
[They follow into the cave. Hardly have they done so when at a shout, Saul, bloodthirsty, with Doeg, Abner, Ishui, and soldiers, pour in from all sides, with drawn weapons.]
SAUL
On, to him! search the caves! In, in, and bring
Him to my sword, and Michal with him.
[Pacing terrible the while.] They
Shall couch upon eternity and dust.
[Weakly.] I am the king, and Israel is mine.…
I’ll sleep upon their grave—I’ll sleep upon it,
And hear the worm…!
[To a Soldier re-entering from one cave.] Where is he? Bring him.
SOLDIER
O King——
SAUL
You’ve slain him and you tremble! Say it.
SOLDIER
No.
SAUL
Then hither with him; hither!
SOLDIER
He’s not here.
SAUL
A treachery! You cunningly contrive
To aid him, so.…
[To a Soldier re-entering fearfully from the other cave.]
Bring me his head.
SOLDIER
My lord,
He is not there.
SAUL
I tell you it is lies—
Because you deem that he shall be the king
And treasure up reward and amnesty.
[Into one cave, then another he rushes, then out among them furious.]
From me, ill-fruited ineffectual herd!
Away from me, he’s fled and none of you
Is servant and will find and for me seize him!
From me—I’ll sleep—I’ll rest—and then—
[All begin to crowd out, overawed, but Doeg and Abner.]
I’ll sleep.
[Slowly he moves into the cave, Left, and lies down.]
ABNER
[To Doeg, significantly.] The evil spirit.
DOEG
Yes; is on him swift
As never before, and as a drunkenness.
ABNER
Then, safe to leave him?
DOEG
Will he brook denial?
ABNER
And Merab, too, will soon be here.
DOEG
Well, come.
ABNER
I’ll go and look upon him.
[Goes to Saul’s cave and returns.]
Already he sleeps.
[Turning they encounter Michal entering, still disguised. She quails.]
Woman, who are you, who?
MICHAL
Unclean! away!
DOEG
Unclean? a leper? in this place? Are there
No stones to stone you? Hence! And had I not
A brother such as thou——
MICHAL
Pity! Unclean!
[She goes quickly; then they. A space. Then she returns trembling, fearful.]
I’ll call him! I will save him!—David! David!—
I his discomfiture and ruin!—David!
David! hear me! David!
[Searching, she approaches the cave where Saul lies, but recoils terrified.]
The king! my father!
I cannot—am not—whither shall I, whither?
[Confused she flees, as scuffling is heard, and Abishai and Abiathar, struggling with David, appear.]
DAVID
Loose me, I say. ’Twas Michal and she called.
[Breaking free.] I say that it was she!
ABIATHAR
Foolhardy, no.
Return into the cave, and ere too late!
[Merab, veiled, enters behind them.]
DAVID
’Twas Michal and no other.
ABIATHAR
You are duped.
DAVID
The breathing of archangels could not so
Have swung the burden from me as her call.
[Searching, he faces—and beholds Merab. His look grows to coldness.]
MERAB
It is not Michal.
DAVID
No—it is not Michal.
[He motions Abiathar and Abishai aside.]
MERAB
Yet it is one who——
DAVID
Need not lift her veil
Or longer stay. The path she came is open.
MERAB
I’m here—and here will speak! I’ve hither stolen,
Yearning—I say it—yearning—and I will.
DAVID
These words I do not know.
MERAB
Because you will not.
More all-devouring than a Moloch is
This love within me——
DAVID
Love and you are twain,
As sun and Sheol.
MERAB
False. I am become
For want of you as famine-wind, a wave
In the mid-tempest, with no rest, no shore.
DAVID
I do not hear the unashamed words
Of one who has but recently another,
Adriel, wedded.
MERAB
You refuse me then?
DAVID
I beg you but to cease.
MERAB
Goaded, chagrined?
No, but this will I do. The Philistines,
For long at rioting within their walls,
Gather again and break toward Gilboa.…
DAVID
This is not true.
MERAB
To-morrow must my father
From hunting you return and arm for battle.
But—many would that you were king.
DAVID
Were?…
MERAB
King!
DAVID
I do not understand your eyes.
MERAB
I will
For love of you arouse rebellion up,
Murmur about the host your heaven-call,
And lift you to the kingdom.
DAVID
To the—stay!
Your words again.
MERAB
The kingdom.
DAVID
Awful God!
MERAB
What is your mien? you will not?
DAVID
Twice the words—
Full from her lips—and to betray her father.
[Abiathar discovers Saul.]
MERAB
You will not? answer!
DAVID
Odious utterly!
As yonder sea of death and bitter salt,
As foam-girt Joppa of idolatry,
As Memphian fane of all abhorrencies!
Morning would move with horror of it, noon
A livid sepulchre of shame span o’er,
And night shrink to remember day had been!
MERAB
You scorn—you scorn me?
DAVID
Jonathan! your sister!
MERAB
Then Saul shall rend you dead. And Jonathan!…
[She laughs shrilly.]
Perchance you have not heard that Jonathan
Knows to the Philistines you fled—and loathes you!
DAVID
I have not heard.
MERAB
Nor have not, ah? how Michal
Is given to the embraces of another?
[David shrinks.]
You desperately breathe and pale at last?
[She laughs more bitterly.]
To me for aid, to me, you yet shall come.
[She goes. David slowly lifts his hand to his brow in heavy pain. Abiathar—and soon Abishai—abruptly descends from the cave to him.]
ABIATHAR
David——
DAVID
Leave me.
ABIATHAR
Not till you know—and strike!
DAVID
I tell you go.
ABIATHAR
I tell you ’tis the king.
DAVID
Who breaks forbearance—yes.
ABIATHAR
Who lieth yonder,
And sleeping lieth—for a thrust to end.
DAVID
[His sword quickly out, struggling.]
This throb and wounds that wring me! and this wail
Under the deeps of me against his wrongs,
Awakening remembrance that with burst
And burn of pain.… O, never-ceasing ill!
[Flings the sword down, anguished.]
ABIATHAR
You will not come?
DAVID
The sun is set.
ABIATHAR
Has Saul
Hunted you to this desert’s verge——?
DAVID
Enough!
ABIATHAR
Has he pursued you, all his hate unleashed?
Is Samuel not slain? the priests? my father?
The kingdom is not in decay, and falls?
You are not prophecy’s anointed one?
Seize up the sword and strike—or I myself!
DAVID
Or … you yourself…?
[Silently he puts them aside, takes up the sword, and slowly goes into Saul’s cave.]
ABISHAI
What will he do? Listen!
[Michal enters unseen.]
ABIATHAR
If Saul cries out.…
ABISHAI
Be ready.…
MICHAL [To them.]
What is this!
[David, haggard, with drawn sword and a piece of Saul’s cloak in his hand, re-enters from the cave. He sees Michal, pauses, and gazes upon her, as she on him, with rising emotion.]
MICHAL [Inarticulate. Then.]
Ah, you have slain—
Have slain him! Wretch! thou wretch!
And sleeping as he was!
DAVID
Then it was you?
In lying rags?
MICHAL
Have struck him in his sleep!
And merciless!—And now will kill me, too?
DAVID
In faithless rags? You are the leper? Who
[Growing frenzied.]
Drove me a prey unto this wilderness!
Upon the blot of it and death and sear!
The silence, burning, and relentless swoon!
You are the leper, who have broken troth
And shut the cry of justice from your breast!
Who’ve stifled me with desolation’s woe,
Who’ve followed still and still have me betrayed!
MICHAL
Betrayed? No, loose me!
DAVID
Slain thy father? slain?
[Flinging the piece of Saul’s cloak at her feet.]
See how I might—see, see you, yonder he lies
A king who quits the kingdom, though a cloud
Of Philistines is foaming toward Gilboa;
Jeoparded leaves it, undefended, for
Pursuit of me and pitiless harrying!
A king who murders priests.…
MICHAL
Priests?
DAVID
Stifles God
With penitence that he has shaped the world!
Have slain? have slain him! I have slain him! Ah!
Ah, that I had thy falseness and could slay him!
MICHAL
David!…
DAVID
Nevermore near me! never with
That quivering and tenderness of lure.
Those eyes that hold infinity of fate,
That breathing cassia-sweet, but sorcery!
MICHAL
Oh.…
DAVID
Never thy presence pouring beauty, swift,
And seething in the brain as frantic wine!
I’ll be no more enspelled of thee—never!
I will not hear thee and be wound by words
Into thy wile as wide as Ashtoreth’s,
Back into hope, eternity of pain!
[In agony he goes, Abiathar and Abishai after. Michal stands gazing fearlessly before her, as Saul, awakened, slowly comes from the mouth of the cave down toward her.]
[CURTAIN.]