Second Fol. I want it not.
David. You have not thought;
'Tis riches—such as Sidon marts and Tyre
Would covet.
Second Fol. I care not.
David. None else is left.
Second Fol. No matter.
David. Then——?
Second Fol. There was of Gibeah
A woman—dear to me. Her face at night ...
Weeping among my dreams....
The prophesy
Is unfulfilled and vain!
David. And you would go?
Second Fol. The suffering—this cliff.