“Nevertheless, when I did instruct thee to put to death my brother Adonijah, who had likewise caught hold on the sacred horns of the altar, didst thou not hearken to me, Benaiah?”
“Forgive me! Spare me, King!”
“Lift up thy face,” commanded Solomon.
And when Benaiah did raise up his face, and beheld the king’s eyes, he quickly rose up from the floor and obediently made his way to the exit.
Then, turning to Ahishar, who was the seneschal, and over the household, he commanded:
“I do not want to give the queen up to death; let her live as she wishes, and die when she wishes. But nevermore shall she behold my countenance. This day, Ahishar, thou shalt fit out a caravan and escort the queen to the harbour at Jaffa; and thence to Ægypt, to the Pharaoh Shishak. Now let all get hence.”
And, left alone face to face with the body of Sulamith, he long contemplated her beautiful features. Her face was pale, and never had it been so fair during her life. The half-parted lips that Solomon had been kissing but half an hour ago were smiling enigmatically and beautifully; and her teeth, still humid, gleamed very faintly from between them.
For long did the king gaze upon his dead leman; then, he softly touched with his fingers her brow, already losing the warmth of life, and with slow steps withdrew from the chamber.
Beyond the doors the high priest Azariah, son of Zadok, was awaiting him. Approaching the king, he asked:
“What shall we do with the body of this woman? It is now the Sabbath.”