The wise Achitophel, whose counsel prov'd
Ever as sound for fortunate success
As if men ask'd the oracle of God,
Is now us'd like the fool of Israel.
Then set thy angry soul upon her wings,
And let her fly into the shade of death;
And for my death let heaven for ever weep,
Making huge floods upon the land I leave,
To ravish them and all their fairest fruits.
Let all the sighs I breath'd for this disgrace
Hang on my hedges like eternal mists,
As mourning garments for their master's death.
Ope, earth, and take thy miserable son
Into the bowels of thy cursed womb:
Once in a surfeit thou didst spue him forth;
Now for fell hunger suck him in again,
And be his body poison to thy veins.
And now,
thou hellish instrument of heaven,
Once execute th' arrest of Jove's just doom,
And stop his breath that curseth Israel!

[Exit.

Enter ABSALON, with AMASA and the rest of his train.

Abs. Now for the crown and throne of Israel,
To be confirm'd with virtue of my sword,
And writ with David's blood upon the blade.
Now, Jove, let forth the golden firmament,
And look on him, with all thy fiery eyes,
Which thou hast made to give their glories light.
To show thou lov'st the virtue of thy hand,
Let fall a wreath of stars upon my head,
Whose influence may govern Israel
With state exceeding all her other kings.
Fight, lords and captains, that your sovereign's
face

May shine in honour brighter than the sun;
And with the virtue of my beauteous rays
Make this fair land as fruitful as the fields
That with sweet milk and honey overflow'd.
God, in the whizzing of a pleasant wind,
Shall march upon the tops of mulberry-trees,1
To cool all breasts that burn with any griefs,
As whilom2 He was good to Moses' men.
By day the Lord shall sit within a cloud,
To guide your footsteps to the fields of joy;
And in the night a pillar, bright as fire,
Shall go before you, like a second sun,
Wherein the essence of his Godhead is;
That day and night you may be brought to peace,
And never swerve from that delightsome path
That leads your souls to perfect happiness.
This shall he do for joy when I am king.
Then fight, brave captains, that these joys may fly
Into your bosoms with sweet victory. [Exeunt.

The battle; and then ABSALON hangs by the hair.3
Abs. What angry angel, sitting in these shades,
Hath laid his cruel hands upon my hair,
And holds my body thus 'twixt heaven and earth?
Hath Absalon no soldier near his hand
That may untwine me this unpleasant curl,
Or wound this tree that ravisheth his lord ?
O God, behold the glory of thy hand,
And choicest fruit of nature's workmanship,

Hang, like a rotten branch, upon this tree,
Fit for the axe and ready for the fire!
Since Thou withholdest all ordinary help
To loose my body from this bond of death,
Oh let my beauty fill these senseless plants
With sense and power to loose me from this
plague,

And work some wonder to prevent his death
Whose life Thou mad'st a special miracle!

Enter JOAB with a soldier.

Sol. My lord, I saw the young Prince Absalon Hang by the hair upon a shady oak, And could by no means get himself unloosed. Joab. Why slew'st thou not the wicked Absalon, That rebel to his father and to Heaven, That so I might have given thee for thy pains Ten silver shekels and a golden waist?1

Sol. Not for a thousand shekels would I slay The son of David, whom his father charged Nor thou, Abisai, nor the son of Gath2 Should touch with stroke of deadly violence. The charge was given in hearing of us all; And had I done it, then, I know, thyself, Before thou wouldst abide the king's rebuke, Wouldst have accused me as a man of death. Joab. I must not now stand trifling here with thee.

Abs. Help, Joab, help, oh help thy Absalon! Let not thy angry thoughts be laid in blood, In blood of him that sometimes nourish'd thee, And softened thy sweet heart with friendly love: Oh give me once again my father's sight, My dearest father and my princely sovereign! That, shedding tears of blood before his face, The ground may witness, and the heavens record, My last submission sound3 and full of ruth."

Joab. Rebel to nature, hate to heaven and

earth!

Shall I give help to him that thirsts the soul
Of his dear father and my sovereign lord?
Now see, the Lord hath tangled in a tree
The health and glory of thy stubborn heart,
And made thy pride curb'd with a senseless plant.
Now, Absalon, how doth the Lord regard
The beauty whereupon thy hope was built,
And which thou thought'st his grace did glory in?
Find'st thou not now, with fear of instant death,
That God affects not any painted shape
Or goodly personage, when the virtuous soul
Is stuff'd with naught but pride and stubbornness?
But preach I to thee, while I should revenge
Thy cursed sin that staineth Israel,

And makes her fields blush with her children's

blood?

Take that as part of thy deserved plague, Which worthily no torment can inflict.

[Stabs him.

Abs. O Joab, Joab, cruel, ruthless Joab! Herewith thou wound'st thy kingly sovereign's heart,

Whose heavenly temper hates his children's blood,

And will be sick, I know, for Absalon.
Oh, my dear father, that thy melting eyes
Might pierce this thicket to behold thy son,
Thy dearest son, gored with a mortal dart!
Yet, Joab, pity me; pity my father, Joab;
Pity his soul's distress that mourns my life,
And will be dead, I know, to hear my death.

Joab. If he were so remorsefuls of thy state, Why sent he me against thee with the sword?

All Joab means to pleasure thee withal
Is, to despatch thee quickly of thy pain:
Hold, Absalon, Joab's pity is in this;
In this, proud Absalon, is Joab's love.

[Stabs him again; and then exit with Soldier. Abs. Such love, such pity Israel's God send thee,

And for his love to David pity me!

Ah! my dear father, see thy bowels bleed;
See death assault thy dearest Absalon;
See, pity, pardon, pray for Absalon!

Enter five or six Soldiers.

First Sol. See where the rebel in his glory hangs.

Where is the virtue of thy beauty, Absalon?
Will any of us here now fear thy looks,
Or be in love with that thy golden hair,
Wherein was wrapt rebellion 'gainst thy sire,
And cords prepar'd to stop thy father's breath?
Our captain, Joab, hath begun to us,
And here's an end to thee and all thy sins.

[They stab ABSALON, who dies.
Come let us take the beauteous rebel down,
And in some ditch, amids this darksome wood,
Bury his bulk beneath a heap of stones,
Whose stony heart did hunt his father's death.
Re-enter in triumph, with drum and ensign, Joab,
ABISAI, and Soldiers.

Joab. Well done, tall soldiers!' take the traitor down,

And in this miry ditch inter his bones,
Covering his hateful breast with heaps of stones;
This shady thicket of dark Ephraim
Shall ever lower on his cursed grave;
Night-ravens and owls shall ring his fatal knell,
And sit exclaiming on his damned soul;
There shall they heap their preys of carrion,
Till all his grave be clad with stinking bones,
That it may loathe the sense of every man!
So shall his end breed horror to his name,
And to his traitorous fact2 eternal shame.

Enter Chorus.

[Exeunt.

Chorus. Oh dreadful precedent of his just doom, Whose holy heart is never touch'd with ruth Of fickle beauty or of glorious shape; But with the virtue of an upright soul, Humble and zealous in his inward thoughts, Though in his person loathsome and deformed! Now, since this story lends us other store, To make a third discourse of David's life, Adding thereto his most renowned death, And all their deaths that at his death he judg'd, Here end we this, and what here wants to please, We will supply with treble willingness.

[Exit.

Trumpets sound. Enter JOAB, AHIMAAS, CUSAY;
AMASA, with all the other followers of ABSALON.
Joab. Soldiers of Israel, and ye sons of Judah,
That have contended in these irksome broils,
And ript old Israel's bowels with your swords,
The godless general of your stubborn arms
Is brought by Israel's Helper to the grave,-
A grave of shame, and scorn of all the tribes!
Now, then, to save your honours from the dust,
And keep your bloods in temper by your bones,
Let Joab's ensign shroud your manly heads,
Direct your eyes, your weapons, and your hearts,
To guard the life of David from his foes.
Error hath mask'd your much-too-forward minds,
And you have sinn'd against the chosen state,

Against his life for whom your lives are bless'd,
And follow'd an usurper to the field;

In whose just death your deaths are threatened;
But Joab pities your disordered souls,
And therefore offers pardon, peace, and love,
To all that will be friendly reconcil'd
To Israel's weal, to David, and to Heaven.
Amasa, thou art leader of the host
That under Absalon have raised their arms;
Then be a captain wise and politic,
Careful and loving for thy soldiers' lives,
And lead them to this honourable league.

Ama. I will; at least, I'll do my best:
And for the gracious offer thou hast made
I give thee thanks, as much as for my head.-
Then, you deceiv'd poor souls of Israel,
Since now ye see the errors you incurr'd,
With thanks and due submission be appeas'd;
And as ye see your captain's precedent,
Here cast we, then, our 'swords at Joab's feet,
Submitting with all zeal and reverence
Our goods and bodies to his gracious hands.
[Kneels with others.
Joab. Stand up, and take ye all your swords
again:
[All stand up.

David and Joab shall be bless'd herein. Ahi. Now let me go inform my lord the king How God hath freed him from his enemies. Joab. Another time, Ahimaas, not now.But, Cusay, go thyself, and tell the king The happy message of our good success. Cu. I will, my lord, and thank thee for thy grace. [Exit. Ahi. What if thy servant should go too, my lord?

Joab. What news hast thou to bring since he is gone?

Ahi. Yet do Ahimaas so much content, That he may run about so sweet a charge. Joab. Run, if thou wilt; and peace be with thy steps. [Exit AHIMAAS. Now follow, that you may salute the king With humble hearts and reconcilèd souls. Ama. We follow, Joab, to our gracious king; And him our swords shall honour to our deaths [Exeunt.

Enter DAVID, BETHSABE, SOLOMON, NATHAN, ADONIA, CHILEAB, with their train. Beth. What means my lord, the lamp of Israel, From whose bright eyes all eyes receive their light, To dim the glory of his sweet aspect,

And paint his countenance with his heart's distress?

Why should his thoughts retain a sad conceit,1
When every pleasure kneels before his throne,
And sues for sweet acceptance with his grace?
Take but your lute, and make the mountains
dance,

Retrieve the sun's sphere, and restrain the clouds,
Give ears to trees, make savage lions tame,
Impose still silence to the loudest winds,
And fill the fairest day with foulest storms:
Then why should passions of much meaner power
Bear head against the heart of Israel?

Dav. Fair Bethsabe, thou might'st increase the
strength

Of these thy arguments, drawn from my skil,
By urging thy sweet sight to my conceits,
Whose virtue ever serv'd for sacred balm
To cheer my pinings past all earthly joys.
But, Bethsabe, the daughter of the Highest,
Whose beauty builds the towers of Israel,
She that in chains of pearl and unicorn2

1 conceit-conception, thought. 2 unicorn-Qy. ivory ?'

Leads at her train the ancient golden world,
The world that Adam held in paradise,
Whose breath refineth all infectious airs,
And makes the meadows smile at her repair,-
She, she, my dearest Bethsabe,

Fair Peace, the goddess of our graces here,
Is fled the streets of fair Jerusalem,

The fields of Israel, and the heart of David,
Leading my comforts in her golden chains,
Link'd to the life and soul of Absalon.

Beth. Then is the pleasure of my sovereign's heart

So wrapt within the bosom of that son,
That Salomon, whom Israel's God affects,
And gave the name unto him for his love,
Should be no salve to comfort David's soul?
Dav. Salomon, my love, is David's lord;1
Our God hath nam'd him lord of Israel:
In him (for that, and since he is thy son)
Must David needs be pleased at the heart;
And he shall surely sit upon my throne.
But Absalon, the beauty of my bones,
Fair Absalon, the counterfeit of love,
Sweet Absalon, the image of content,
Must claim a portion in his father's care,
And be in life and death King David's son.
Nath. Yet, as my lord hath said, let Salomon
reign,

Whom God in naming hath anointed king.
Now is he apt to learn th' eternal laws,
Whose knowledge being rooted in his youth
Will beautify his age with glorious fruits;
While Absalon, incens'd with graceless pride,
Usurps and stains the kingdom with his sin:
Let Salomon be made thy staff of age,
Fair Israel's rest, and honour of thy race.

Dar. Tell me, my Salomon, wilt thou embrace
Thy father's precepts gravèd in thy heart,
And satisfy my zeal to thy renown
With practice of such sacred principles
As shall concern the state of Israel?

Sal. My royal father, if the heavenly zeal, Which for my welfare feeds upon your soul, Were not sustain'd with virtue of mine own; If the sweet accents of your cheerful voice Should not each hour beat upon mine ears As sweetly as the breath of heaven to him That gaspeth scorched with the summer's sun, I should be guilty of unpardon'd sin, Fearing the plague of heaven and shame of earth: But since I vow myself to learn the skill And holy secrets of his mighty hand Whose cunning tunes the music of my soul, It would content me, father, first to learn How the Eternal fram'd the firmament; Which bodies lend their influence by fire, And which are fill'd with hoary winter's ice; What sign is rainy, and what star is fair; Why by the rules of true proportion The year is still divided into months, The months to days, the days to certain hours; What fruitful race shall fill the future world; Or for what time shall this round building stand; What magistrates, what kings shall keep in awe Men's minds with bridles of th' eternal law.

Dav. Wade not too far, my boy, in waves so deep:

The feeble eyes of our aspiring thoughts
Behold things present, and record things past;
But things to come exceed our human reach,
And are not painted yet in angels' eyes:
For those, submit thy sense, and say, 'Thou

power,

1 Salomon, my love, is David's lord-corrupted.-DICE. 2 counterfeit-portrait, likeness, image.

That now art framing of the future world, Know'st all to come, not by the course of heaven, By frail conjectures of inferior signs,

By monstrous floods, by flights and flocks of birds,
By bowels of a sacrificed beast,

Or by the figures of some hidden art;
But by a true and natural presage,
Laying the ground and perfect architect1
Of all our actions now before thine eyes,
From Adam to the end of Adam's seed:

O Heaven, protect my weakness with thy strength!
So look on me that I may view thy face,
And see these secrets written in thy brows.
O sun, come dart thy rays upon my moon!
That now mine eyes, eclipsèd to the earth,
May brightly be refin'd and shine to heaven;
Transform me from this flesh, that I may live,
Before my death, regenerate with thee.

O thou great God, ravish my earthly sprite!2
That for the time a more than human skill
May feed the organons of all my sense;
That, when I think, thy thoughts may be my
guide,

And, when I speak, I may be made by choice
The perfect echo of thy heavenly voice.'
Thus say, my son, and thou shalt learn them all.
Sal. A secret fury ravisheth my soul,
Lifting my mind above her human bounds;
And, as the eagle, roused from her stand
With violent hunger, towering in the air,
Seizeth her feather'd prey, and thinks to feed,
But seeing then a cloud beneath her feet,
Lets fall the fowl, and is emboldenèd
With eyes intentive to bedare the sun,
And styeth close unto his stately sphere;
So Salomon, mounted on the burning wings
Of zeal divine, lets fall his mortal food
And cheers his senses with celestial air,
Treads in the golden starry labyrinth,
And holds his eyes fix'd on Jehovah's brows.
Good father, teach me further what to do.

Nath. See, David, how his haughty spirit mounts,

Even now of height to wield a diadem:
Then make him promise that he may succeed,
And rest old Israel's bones from broils of war.
Dav. Nathan, thou prophet, sprung from Jesse's
root,

I promise thee and lovely Bethsabe,
My Salomon shall govern after me.

Beth. He that hath touch'd thee with this righteous thought

Preserve the harbour of thy thoughts in peace!

Dav. Tell me, Ahimaas, lives my Absalon? Ahi. I saw a troop of soldiers gathered, But know not what the tumult might import. Dav. Stand by, until some other may inform The heart of David with a happy truth.

Enter CUSAY.

Cu. Happiness and honour live with David's soul, Whom God hath bless'd with conquest of his foes. Dav. But, Cusay, lives the young man Absalon? Cu. The stubborn enemies to David's peace, And all that cast their darts against his crown, Fare ever like the young man Absalon! For as he rid the woods of Ephraim, Which fought for thee as much as all thy men, His hair was tangled in a shady oak; And hanging there, by Joab and his men, Sustain'd the stroke of well-deservèd death.

Dav. Hath Absalon sustain'd the stroke of death? Die, David, for the death of Absalon, And make these cursed news the bloody darts That through his bowels rip thy wretched breast. Hence, David, walk the solitary woods, And in some cedar's shade the thunder slew, And fire from heaven hath made his branches black, Sit mourning the decease of Absalon : Against the body of that blasted plant In thousand shivers break thy ivory lute, Hanging thy stringless harp upon his boughs; And through the hollow sapless sounding trunk Bellow the torments that perplex thy soul. There let the winds sit sighing till they burst; Let tempest, muffled with a cloud of pitch, Threaten the forests with her hellish face. And, mounted fiercely on her iron wings, Rend up the wretched engine1 by the roots That held my dearest Absalon to death. Then let them toss my broken lute to heaven, Even to his hands that beats me with the strings, To show how sadly his poor shepherd sings.

[Goes to his pavilion and sits close a while.
Beth. Die, Bethsabe, to see thy David mourn,
To hear his tunes of anguish and of hell.
Oh, help, my David, help thy Bethsabe,
Whose heart is pierced with thy breathy swords,2
And bursts with burden of ten thousand griefs!
[Lies down.
Now sit thy sorrows sucking of my blood:
Oh that it might be poison to their powers,
And that their lips might draw my bosom dry,
So David's love might ease him, though she die!
Nath. These violent passions come not from
above;

David and Bethsabe offend the Highest,
To mourn in this immeasurable sort.

Dav. [looking forth.] O Absalon, Absalon! O my son, my son!

Would God that I had died for Absalon!
But he is dead; ah! dead; Absalon is dead:
And David lives to die for Absalon.

And marcheth not in triumph through the gates? [Unfolds the pavilion.

David, awake! if sleep have shut thine eyes,
Sleep of affection, that thou canst not see
The honour offer'd to the victor's head:
Joab brings conquest pierced on his spear,
And joy from all the tribes of Israel.

Dav. Thou man of blood, thou sepulchre of death,

Whose marble breast intombs my bowels quick,1
Did I not charge thee, nay, entreat thy hand,
Even for my sake, to spare my Absalon?
And hast thou now, in spite of David's health,
And scorn to do my heart some happiness,
Given him the sword and spilt his purple soul?
Joab. What, irks it David, that he victor
breathes,

That Juda and the fields of Israel

Should cleanse their faces from their children's blood?

What! art thou weary of thy royal rule?
Is Israel's throne a serpent in thine eyes,
And He that set thee there so far from thanks,
That thou must curse his servant for his sake?
Hast thou not said that, as the morning light.
The cloudless morning, so should be thine house,
And not as flowers by the brightest rain
Which grow up quickly and as quickly fade?
Hast thou not said, the wicked are as thorns,
That cannot be preservèd 2 with the hand,
And that the man shall touch them must be arm'd
With coats of iron and garments made of steel,
Or with the shaft of a defencèd spear?
And art thou angry he is now cut off
That led the guiltless swarming 3 to their deaths,
And was more wicked than an host of men ?
Advance thee from thy melancholy den,
And deck thy body with thy blissful robes,
Or, by the Lord that sways the heaven I swear,
I'll lead thine armies to another king
Shall cheer them for their princely chivalry,
And not sit daunted, frowning in the dark,
When his fair looks, with oil and wine refresh'd,
Should dart into their bosoms gladsome beams,
And fill their stomachs with triumphant feasts;
That when elsewhere stern war shall sound his
trump,

And call another battle to the field,
Fame still may bring thy valiant soldiers home,
And for their service happily confess

She wanted worthy trumps to sound their

prowess:

Take thou this course and live; refuse and die. Abis. Come, brother, let him sit there till he sink;

Some other shall advance the name of Joab. [Offers to go out with JOAB. Beth. [rising.] Oh, stay, my lords, stay! David

1

mourns no more,

quick-alive.

2 preservèd-held, taken, grasped. The passage of Scripture to which our author here alludes is as follows: And he shall be as the light of the morning when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds; as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain.

Although my house be not so with God; yet he hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and sure: for this is all my salvation, and all my desire, although he make it not to grow.

'But the sons of Belial shall be all of them as thorns thrust away, because they cannot be taken with hands [The Vulgate quæ non tolluntur manibus']:

But the man that shall touch them must be fenced with iron and the staff of a spear,' &c.

3 swarming-swarm, crowd.

4 battle-army.

2 SAM. xxiii. 4 sqq.

Shall reap a sevenfold grace for all thy griefs;
Thy eyes, now no more eyes but shining stars,
Shall deck the flaming heavens with novel lamps;
There shalt thou taste the drink of seraphins,
And cheer thy feelings with archangels' food;
Thy day of rest, thy holy Sabbath-day,
Shall be eternal; and, the curtain drawn,
Thou shalt behold thy sovereign face to face,
With wonder, knit in triple unity-
Unity infinite and innumerable.-

Courage, brave captains! Joab's tale hath stirr'd,
And made the suit of Israel preferr'd

Joab. Bravely resolv'd, and spoken like a king: Now may old Israel and his daughters sing.

[Exeunt omnes.