(He moves to go.)
Saul. The sceptre....
Samuel. To another!
Saul. From me! No!
You rouse afar the billowing of ill.
I grant—go not!—I grovel to your will,
Fear it and fawn as to omnipotence,
(Snatching at Samuel's mantle.)
And vow to all its divination—all!
Samuel. Then, Saul of Israel, the hour is near,
When shall arise one, and Goliath fall!
(Goes slowly out by the porch, Saul sinks back.)
Ishui (after a pause, keenly). Oh,—subtle!
Saul. Thus he sways me.