  SCENE: A savage mountain-cliff in the wilderness of Engeddi. On either side gray crags rise rugged, sinking away precipitously across the back. Cut into each is a cave. The height is reached by clefts from all sides. Between the crags to the East is the far blue of the Dead Sea; and still beyond, bathed in the waning afternoon, stretch the purple shores of Moab. During the act the scene grows crimson with sunset and a thunder-cloud rises over the sea. Lying on a pallet of skins near the cliff’s verge, DAVID tosses feverishly. Three of his followers and a lad, who serves him, are gathered toward the front, ragged, hungry, and hunted, in altercation over a barley-cake. DAVID Water! the fever fills me, and I thirst. Water! FIRST FOLLOWER Listen. SECOND FOLLOWER He calls. DAVID Water! I thirst. THE LAD Yes, yes, my lord. [Takes up a water-skin.] Ah, empty, not a quaff! They’ve drunk it all from him! My lord, none’s left. I’ll run and in the valley brim it soon. [He goes. David sinks back.] SECOND FOLLOWER [To First.] You drank it then. FIRST FOLLOWER And should I thirst, not he? Give me the bread. SECOND FOLLOWER If it would strangle you. FIRST FOLLOWER I’ll have it. SECOND FOLLOWER Or betray him? spitingly? It is the last. Already you have eat. And we are here within a wilderness. FIRST FOLLOWER Be it, but I’ll not starve. THIRD FOLLOWER He utters right. Why should we but to follow a mere shepherd Famish and o’er a hundred desert hills? The prophecy portending him the throne— Folly, not fate! though it is Samuel’s. I’ll trust in it no more. FIRST FOLLOWER Nor I. THIRD FOLLOWER And Saul Has driven us from waste to waste—pressed us Even unto the Philistines for shelter, And now unto this crag. And is not David’s Thought but of Michal, not of smiting him And, with a host, of leaping to the kingdom? [David stirs to rise.] FIRST FOLLOWER He moves; peace! THIRD FOLLOWER Let him. SECOND FOLLOWER Peace. THIRD FOLLOWER And fawning too? DAVID [Sufferingly] Men—men, we must have news. Perpetual, Implacable they stare unto each other. This rock and stony sky. [Rises and comes down to them.] We must have news. [They are silent.] Longer is death. ’Tis overmany days Of sighing and remembered verdancy; Nor any dew or upward odor comes. Who will go now and bring us word of Saul? THIRD FOLLOWER Have not Abishai, Abiathar, And others gone? DAVID Bravely. THIRD FOLLOWER And none returned! DAVID Not one of all. THIRD FOLLOWER Well, then, we are not swine, And life’s but once. DAVID So——? THIRD FOLLOWER We will follow you No longer hungered and rewarded never, But perilously ever. DAVID It is well. [He looses a bracelet from his arm.] This was a gift from Saul. In it is ease. [Gives it to Third Follower, who goes.] This ring was Jonathan’s. The jewel tells Still of the sunny haven of his heart. Upon my hand he pressed it—the day we leapt Deeper than friends into each other’s love. [Gives it to First Follower, who goes.] This chain—— SECOND FOLLOWER I want it not. DAVID You have not thought; ’Tis riches—such as Sidon marts and Tyre Would covet. SECOND FOLLOWER I care not. DAVID None else is left. SECOND FOLLOWER No matter. DAVID Then——? SECOND FOLLOWER There was of Gibeah A woman—dear to me. Her face at night Weeping among my dreams.… The prophecy Is unfulfilled, and vain! DAVID And you would go? SECOND FOLLOWER The suffering—this cliff. DAVID I understand, [Motions.] So, without any blame, and to content. [The Second Follower falters, then goes.] [Quietly.] A desolation left, of rock and air, Of barren sea and bitterness as vast. Thou hast bereft me, Saul! thou hast bereft! [He moves up the cliff, gazes sadly away, then kneels by a stone, as to pray.] My flesh cries for oblivion—to sink Unwaking away into the Night … where is No tears, but only tides of sleep.… No, crieth Not for Oblivion and Night, but for Rage and revenge! Saul! Saul!… My spirit, peace. As pants the heart for the water-brook, so I! [He bows his head. Michal in rags that disguise, enters with the Lad, unseen.] Her lips it was that hurled me unto this! Yet, yet not violence on him and blood! I must revenge’s call within me quell, Though righteously it quivers and aflame. [He goes slowly into the cave, Right.] MICHAL This is the place, then, this? LAD Yes, princess. MICHAL Here So long in want and sickness he hath hid? Under the livid day and lonelier night! LAD I brought him water, often. MICHAL Little lad! But he has heard no word from me—not how My father, Saul, frantic of my repentance, Had unto Phalti, a new lord, betrothed me? How then I fled to win unto these wilds? LAD He heard not anything—only the tales I told of Moab, my own land. [David plays within.] But oh! It is his harp. MICHAL And strains that weep o’er me!… I’ll speak to him … and yet must be unknown! A leper? as a leper could I…? LAD Why Must he not know you? MICHAL Ask me not, lad, now; But go a little. LAD Yes. [He sets down the water-skin and goes.] 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…! DAVID My cloak, then, for thy tattered limbs. Or, no— This chain of Ophir for thy every need. Once was it dear, but should be so no more. [Flinging it to her.] Have it, and with it vanish memory Out of my breast—— MICHAL No, no. DAVID And from me fall Link upon link her loveliness that bound. MICHAL Oh, do not! DAVID Woman…? MICHAL Nothing. A chain like this I once beheld wind undulantly bright O’er Michal, the king’s daughter. DAVID Woman, the king’s? MICHAL Pity! DAVID Who are you? MICHAL Stay! Unclean! DAVID A spy? A spy of Saul and hypocrite have crept Hither to learn…? MICHAL Have heed—unclean! DAVID How then Wandering come you here? MICHAL Unclean! Unclean! DAVID My brain is overfull of fever, mad. Almost and I had touched thy peril, held Thy hideous contagion. MICHAL Wrong! DAVID Then who Art thou to know and speak of her, of Michal? MICHAL One who has served the king. DAVID And you have seen Michal, you have beheld her? MICHAL Once, when she In face was fairer and in heart than now They say she is. DAVID And heard her speak? MICHAL A night Under the leaves of Gibeah—when she Sang with another—David. DAVID Say no more. MICHAL And from afar, under the moon, blew faint The treading of the wine-presses with song. David she loved, but anger-torn betrayed, Unworthy of him. DAVID Speak of her no more, Nor of her cruelty, unless to pray He she has ruined may forget her. MICHAL Yet If deep she should repent——? DAVID Leper, no more. [A moment; then a jackal’s cry shrills to them. David starts.] The signal. [He listens.] Thrice repeated? Word at last? [To Michal.] He who is near may prove to thee less kind. [She goes. He springs to look down the cliff.] Abishai? Abiathar? It is! But staggering and wounded? breathless? torn? [He watches, then turns to meet them. They enter—Abiathar with bloody ephod and broken breastplate—and sink in panting exhaustion.] Abishai, what is it that you bring? Abiathar, up! answer! ABIATHAR Water! DAVID Up! [He brings the water-skin. They drain it fiercely.] What is it now so fevered from you stares And breathing too abhorrence? Gasp it out. ABIATHAR I stifle—in a universe—he still— Has breath in. DAVID Saul? ABIATHAR I’ll scathe him! Scorpions Of terror and remorse sting in his soul! DAVID If you have tidings, not in words so wild. ABIATHAR Then ask and hate shall calm me. DAVID Ask? ABIATHAR On, on! Seek if he lives! DAVID Who? ABIATHAR Seek if prophecy Founts yet in Judah! DAVID Samuel…? ABIATHAR Is dead!… Dead—and of tidings more calamitous. [A pause.] DAVID [Hoarsely.] Tell on. I hear. ABIATHAR Saul gloating to believe The priests, assembled sacredly at Nob, Plotted assisting you, hath had them—— DAVID No…! ABIATHAR Slain at the hands of Doeg—murdered, all! DAVID But he—your father? ABIATHAR Was among them; fell. [He stands motionless.] DAVID [Gently.] Abiathar, my friend!… Appeaseless Saul! ABIATHAR Hear all, hear all! Thy father, too, and mother, Even thy kindred, out of Israel Are driven into Moab; and this king, Delirious still for blood as desert pard, With Merab, whelp of him, and many armed, Is near us now—aquiver at Engeddi For your destruction: [David struggles for control.] And yet you will not strike. DAVID [Low.] No, but of Michal, tell me good at once, Lest unendurable this lot, I may— and mount o’er every oath into revenge. ABIATHAR Ha—Michal! DAVID She withholds her father’s wrath? ABIATHAR She’s well. DAVID Not if you say no more. ABIATHAR I know Nothing of her. DAVID Your look belies. ABIATHAR Perhaps: As did her love. DAVID That is for me. ABIATHAR Well, what? A woman who betrays? DAVID Speak, not evade; And judge her when earth has no mystery. ABIATHAR Then from your craving put her—wide; she is Unworthy any tremor of your veins. DAVID Dawn-lilies under dew are then unworthy, And nesting doves are horrible to heaven. I will not so believe. Your reason…! ABIATHAR Saul Has given her—and she will wed him, aye— To Phalti, a new lord. DAVID Untrue of her! ABIATHAR Cry. Yet you will believe it. DAVID Not until The verdant parable of spring is hushed Ever of bloom, to prove it. Never till Hermon is swung into the sea! until The last void of the everlasting sky—— [Looking up he falters, breaks off, and is strangely moved at something beheld.] ABIATHAR What, what alarm? ABISHAI What stare you on? ABIATHAR He’s mad? [David points. They look up.] ABIATHAR An eaglet!… ABISHAI Eaglet? ABIATHAR Pierct! ABISHAI Pierct?… DAVID Falling here. And beating against death unbuoyantly. [The bird, an arrow through it, drops in throes at their feet.] A destiny, a fate in this is hidden! [He bends over it, then quickly back.] ABIATHAR A destiny, how, how? DAVID The arrow!—His! His, and no other’s. Quick, then, no delay. ABIATHAR Be clear, clearer. DAVID We are discovered—near On us is death. Open the secret chamber Within the cave, for from the bow of Saul Is yonder bleeding—from no other. ABIATHAR Saul’s? But how, was any here? DAVID To-day, to-day. A leper wandering. ABIATHAR We are betrayed. [Abishai with the water-skin hastens into the cave, Right. David and Abiathar stand listening. Noise of approach is heard.] DAVID They near. ABIATHAR And many. DAVID King of Israel! Inexorable! ABIATHAR O, rebuke him, do! DAVID Almost I am beyond this tolerance. ABIATHAR In truth. Therefore it is you rise and shake Out of his power the sceptre! DAVID Tempt me not! Mercy and memory almost are dead, And craving birth in me is fateful ire. [They follow into the cave. Hardly have they done so when at a shout, Saul, bloodthirsty, with Doeg, Abner, Ishui, and soldiers, pour in from all sides, with drawn weapons.] SAUL On, to him! search the caves! In, in, and bring Him to my sword, and Michal with him. [Pacing terrible the while.] They Shall couch upon eternity and dust. [Weakly.] I am the king, and Israel is mine.… I’ll sleep upon their grave—I’ll sleep upon it, And hear the worm…! [To a Soldier re-entering from one cave.] Where is he? Bring him. SOLDIER O King—— SAUL You’ve slain him and you tremble! Say it. SOLDIER No. SAUL Then hither with him; hither! SOLDIER He’s not here. SAUL A treachery! You cunningly contrive To aid him, so.… [To a Soldier re-entering fearfully from the other cave.] Bring me his head. SOLDIER My lord, He is not there. SAUL I tell you it is lies— Because you deem that he shall be the king And treasure up reward and amnesty. [Into one cave, then another he rushes, then out among them furious.] From me, ill-fruited ineffectual herd! Away from me, he’s fled and none of you Is servant and will find and for me seize him! From me—I’ll sleep—I’ll rest—and then— [All begin to crowd out, overawed, but Doeg and Abner.] I’ll sleep. [Slowly he moves into the cave, Left, and lies down.] ABNER [To Doeg, significantly.] The evil spirit. DOEG Yes; is on him swift As never before, and as a drunkenness. ABNER Then, safe to leave him? DOEG Will he brook denial? ABNER And Merab, too, will soon be here. DOEG Well, come. ABNER I’ll go and look upon him. [Goes to Saul’s cave and returns.] Already he sleeps. [Turning they encounter Michal entering, still disguised. She quails.] Woman, who are you, who? MICHAL Unclean! away! DOEG Unclean? a leper? in this place? Are there No stones to stone you? Hence! And had I not A brother such as thou—— MICHAL Pity! Unclean! [She goes quickly; then they. A space. Then she returns trembling, fearful.] I’ll call him! I will save him!—David! David!— I his discomfiture and ruin!—David! David! hear me! David! [Searching, she approaches the cave where Saul lies, but recoils terrified.] The king! my father! I cannot—am not—whither shall I, whither? [Confused she flees, as scuffling is heard, and Abishai and Abiathar, struggling with David, appear.] DAVID Loose me, I say. ’Twas Michal and she called. [Breaking free.] I say that it was she! ABIATHAR Foolhardy, no. Return into the cave, and ere too late! [Merab, veiled, enters behind them.] DAVID ’Twas Michal and no other. ABIATHAR You are duped. DAVID The breathing of archangels could not so Have swung the burden from me as her call. [Searching, he faces—and beholds Merab. His look grows to coldness.] MERAB It is not Michal. DAVID No—it is not Michal. [He motions Abiathar and Abishai aside.] MERAB Yet it is one who—— DAVID Need not lift her veil Or longer stay. The path she came is open. MERAB I’m here—and here will speak! I’ve hither stolen, Yearning—I say it—yearning—and I will. DAVID These words I do not know. MERAB Because you will not. More all-devouring than a Moloch is This love within me—— DAVID Love and you are twain, As sun and Sheol. MERAB False. I am become For want of you as famine-wind, a wave In the mid-tempest, with no rest, no shore. DAVID I do not hear the unashamed words Of one who has but recently another, Adriel, wedded. MERAB You refuse me then? DAVID I beg you but to cease. MERAB Goaded, chagrined? No, but this will I do. The Philistines, For long at rioting within their walls, Gather again and break toward Gilboa.… DAVID This is not true. MERAB To-morrow must my father From hunting you return and arm for battle. But—many would that you were king. DAVID Were?… MERAB King! DAVID I do not understand your eyes. MERAB I will For love of you arouse rebellion up, Murmur about the host your heaven-call, And lift you to the kingdom. DAVID To the—stay! Your words again. MERAB The kingdom. DAVID Awful God! MERAB What is your mien? you will not? DAVID Twice the words— Full from her lips—and to betray her father. [Abiathar discovers Saul.] MERAB You will not? answer! DAVID Odious utterly! As yonder sea of death and bitter salt, As foam-girt Joppa of idolatry, As Memphian fane of all abhorrencies! Morning would move with horror of it, noon A livid sepulchre of shame span o’er, And night shrink to remember day had been! MERAB You scorn—you scorn me? DAVID Jonathan! your sister! MERAB Then Saul shall rend you dead. And Jonathan!… [She laughs shrilly.] Perchance you have not heard that Jonathan Knows to the Philistines you fled—and loathes you! DAVID I have not heard. MERAB Nor have not, ah? how Michal Is given to the embraces of another? [David shrinks.] You desperately breathe and pale at last? [She laughs more bitterly.] To me for aid, to me, you yet shall come. [She goes. David slowly lifts his hand to his brow in heavy pain. Abiathar—and soon Abishai—abruptly descends from the cave to him.] ABIATHAR David—— DAVID Leave me. ABIATHAR Not till you know—and strike! DAVID I tell you go. ABIATHAR I tell you ’tis the king. DAVID Who breaks forbearance—yes. ABIATHAR Who lieth yonder, And sleeping lieth—for a thrust to end. DAVID [His sword quickly out, struggling.] This throb and wounds that wring me! and this wail Under the deeps of me against his wrongs, Awakening remembrance that with burst And burn of pain.… O, never-ceasing ill! [Flings the sword down, anguished.] ABIATHAR You will not come? DAVID The sun is set. ABIATHAR Has Saul Hunted you to this desert’s verge——? DAVID Enough! ABIATHAR Has he pursued you, all his hate unleashed? Is Samuel not slain? the priests? my father? The kingdom is not in decay, and falls? You are not prophecy’s anointed one? Seize up the sword and strike—or I myself! DAVID Or … you yourself…? [Silently he puts them aside, takes up the sword, and slowly goes into Saul’s cave.] ABISHAI What will he do? Listen! [Michal enters unseen.] ABIATHAR If Saul cries out.… ABISHAI Be ready.… MICHAL [To them.] What is this! [David, haggard, with drawn sword and a piece of Saul’s cloak in his hand, re-enters from the cave. He sees Michal, pauses, and gazes upon her, as she on him, with rising emotion.] MICHAL [Inarticulate. Then.] Ah, you have slain— Have slain him! Wretch! thou wretch! And sleeping as he was! DAVID Then it was you? In lying rags? MICHAL Have struck him in his sleep! And merciless!—And now will kill me, too? DAVID In faithless rags? You are the leper? Who [Growing frenzied.] Drove me a prey unto this wilderness! Upon the blot of it and death and sear! The silence, burning, and relentless swoon! You are the leper, who have broken troth And shut the cry of justice from your breast! Who’ve stifled me with desolation’s woe, Who’ve followed still and still have me betrayed! MICHAL Betrayed? No, loose me! DAVID Slain thy father? slain? [Flinging the piece of Saul’s cloak at her feet.] See how I might—see, see you, yonder he lies A king who quits the kingdom, though a cloud Of Philistines is foaming toward Gilboa; Jeoparded leaves it, undefended, for Pursuit of me and pitiless harrying! A king who murders priests.… MICHAL Priests? DAVID Stifles God With penitence that he has shaped the world! Have slain? have slain him! I have slain him! Ah! Ah, that I had thy falseness and could slay him! MICHAL David!… DAVID Nevermore near me! never with That quivering and tenderness of lure. Those eyes that hold infinity of fate, That breathing cassia-sweet, but sorcery! MICHAL Oh.… DAVID Never thy presence pouring beauty, swift, And seething in the brain as frantic wine! I’ll be no more enspelled of thee—never! I will not hear thee and be wound by words Into thy wile as wide as Ashtoreth’s, Back into hope, eternity of pain! [In agony he goes, Abiathar and Abishai after. Michal stands gazing fearlessly before her, as Saul, awakened, slowly comes from the mouth of the cave down toward her.] [CURTAIN.] |
|
