David. Merab?
Merab. Is it strange
That even I now ask it?
David. Merab's self?
Merab. Herself and not to-day your friend; but now
Conquered to exultation and aglow
To wreathe you for this might to Israel,
Beautiful, unbelievable and bright!
Noble the dawn of it was in your dream,
Noble the lightning of it in your arm,
And noble in your veins the fearless flow
And dare of blood!—so noble that I ask
As a remembrance and bequest for ever,
In priceless covenant of peace between us,
A drop of it——
(She draws dagger and offers it to him.)
Upon this sacred blade ...
David. Such kindness? in all honour?
Merab. Poor requital
To one whose greatness humbles me from hate.
David (slowly). Then of my veins whatever drop you will
But, no ... (Pauses.) You do not mock me?
Merab. Rather upon
Its edge one vein of you—than priceless nard.