Michal. Doubt of it welleth thro' your voice. No, no,
To save you strove I——!
David. Michal?
Michal. Not to betray!
From Saul, my father, penitent I fled,
Seeking you in Engeddi's wild.
David. And Phalti?
Michal. 'Twas wedding him I loathed.
David. Say true!
Michal. This knife
Unfailingly into my breast had sunk
And spared me, had not flight.
David. This—this can be?
(A great joy dawning in him.)
Beyond all hope it is, even as day's
Wide empery outspans our littleness.
A tithing of thy loveliness were beauty
Enough for earth. Yet it is mine, is mine?