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...!