Classic Poem

[SCENE III.]

A MNON , J ONADAB , and J ETHRAY , A MNON'S Page.

Jonad. What means my lord, the king's beloved son,
That wears upon his right triumphant arm
The power of Israel for a royal favour,
That holds upon the tables of his hands
Banquets of honour and all thought's content,
To suffer pale and grisly abstinence
To sit and feed upon his fainting cheeks,
And suck away the blood that cheers his looks?
Am. Ah, Jonadab, it is my sister's looks,
On whose sweet beauty I bestow my blood,
That make me look so amorously lean;
Her beauty having seized upon my heart,
So merely consecrate to her content,
Sets now such guard about his vital blood,
And views the passage with such piercing eyes,
That none can scape to cheer my pining cheeks,
But all is thought too little for her love
Jonad. Then from her heart thy looks shall be relieved,
And thou shalt joy her as thy soul desires.
Am. How can it be, my sweet friend Jonadab,
Since Thamar is a virgin and my sister?
Jonad. Thus it shall be: lie down upon thy bed,
Feigning thee fever-sick and ill-at-ease;
And when the king shall come to visit thee,
Desire thy sister Thamar may be sent
To dress some dainties for thy malady:
Then when thou hast her solely with thyself,
Enforce some favour to thy manly love.
See where she comes: entreat her in with thee.

Enter T HAMAR

Tha. What aileth Amnon, with such sickly looks
To daunt the favour of his lovely face?
Am. Sweet Thamar, sick, and wish some wholesome cates
Dressed with the cunning of thy dainty hands.
Tha. That hath the king commanded at my hands:
Then come and rest thee, while I make thee ready
Some dainties easeful to thy crazed soul
Am. I go, sweet sister, eased with thy sight.

Restet J ONADAB .

Jonad. Why should a prince, whose power may command,
Obey the rebel passions of his love,
When they contend but 'gainst his conscience,
And may be governed or suppressed by will?
Now, Amnon, loose those loving knots of blood,
That sucked the courage from thy kingly heart,
And give it passage to thy withered cheeks.
Now, Thamar, rifled are the holy fruits
That grew on plants of thy virginity;
And rotten is thy name in Israel:
Poor Thamar, little did thy lovely hands
Foretell an action of such violence
As to contend with Amnon's lusty arms
Sinewed with vigour of his kindless love:
Fair Thamar, now dishonour hunts thy foot,
And follows thee through every covert shade,
Discovering thy shame and nakedness,
Even from the valleys of Jehosaphat
Up to the lofty mounts of Lebanon;
Where cedars, stirred with anger of the winds,
Sounding in storms the tale of thy disgrace,
Tremble with fury, and with murmur shake
Earth with their feet and with their heads the heavens,
Beating the clouds into their swiftest rack,
To bear this wonder round about the world.

A MNON thrusting out T HAMAR .

Am. Hence from my bed, whose sight offends my soul
As doth the parbreak of disgorged bears!
Tha. Unkind, unprincely, and unmanly Amnon,
To force, and then refuse thy sister's love,
Adding unto the fright of thy offence
The baneful torment of my published shame!
O, do not this dishonour to thy love,
Nor clog thy soul with such increasing sin!
This second evil far exceeds the first.
Am. Jethray, come thrust this woman from my sight,
And bolt the door upon her if she strive.
Jeth. Go, madam, go; away; you must be gone;
My lord hath done with you: I pray, depart.
Tha. Whither, alas, ah, whither shall I fly,
With folded arms and all amazed soul?
Cast as was Eva from that glorious soil,
(Where all delights sat bating, winged with thoughts,
Ready to nestle in her naked breasts,)
To bare and barren vales with floods made waste,
To desert woods, and hills with lightning scorched,
With death, with shame, with hell, with horror rife!
There will I wander from my father's face;
There Absalon, my brother Absalon,
Sweet Absalon, shall hear his sister mourn;
There will I lure with my windy sighs
Night-ravens and owls to rend my bloody side,
Which with a rusty weapon I will wound,
And make them passage to my panting heart.
Why talk'st thou, wretch, and leav'st the deed undone?
Rend hair and garments, as thy heart is rent
With inward fury of a thousand griefs,
And scatter them by these unhallowed doors,
To figure Amnon's resting cruelty,
And tragic spoil of Thamar's chastity.

Enter A BSALON .

Abs. What causeth Thamar to exclaim so much?
Tha. The cause that Thamar shameth to disclose.
Abs. Say; I thy brother will revenge that cause.
Tha. Amnon, our father's son, hath forced me,
And thrusts me from him as the scorn of Israel.
Abs. Hath Amnon forced thee? by David's hand,
And by the covenant God hath made with him,
Amnon shall bear his violence to hell;
Traitor to heaven, traitor to David's throne,
Traitor to Absalon and Israel.
This fact hath Jacob's ruler seen from heaven,
And through a cloud of smoke and tower of fire,
As he rides vaunting him upon the greens,
Shall tear his chariot-wheels with violent winds,
And throw his body in the bloody sea;
At him the thunder shall discharge his bolt;
And his fair spouse, with bright and fiery wings,
Sit ever burning on his hateful bones:
Myself, as swift as thunder or his spouse,
Will hunt occasion with a secret hate,
To work false Amnon an ungracious end —
Go in, my sister; rest thee in my house;
And God in time shall take this shame from thee.
Tha. Nor God nor time will do that good for me.

Enter D AVID with his train .

Dav. My Absalon, what mak'st thou here alone,
And bear'st such discontentment in thy brows?
Abs. Great cause hath Absalon to be displeased,
And in his heart to shroud the wounds of wrath.
Dav. 'Gainst whom should Absalon be thus displeased?
Abs. 'Gainst wicked Amnon, thy ungracious son,
My brother and fair Thamar's by the king,
My step-brother by mother and by kind:
He hath dishonoured David's holiness,
And fixed a blot of lightness on his throne,
Forcing my sister Thamar when he feigned
A sickness, sprung from root of heinous lust.
Dav. Hath Amnon brought this evil on my house,
And suffered sin to smite his father's bones?
Smite, David, deadlier than the voice of heaven,
And let hate's fire be kindled in thy heart:
Frame in the arches of thy angry brows,
Making thy forehead, like a comet, shine,
To force false Amnon tremble at thy looks
Sin, with his sevenfold crown and purple robe,
Begins his triumphs in my guilty throne;
There sits he watching with his hundred eyes
Our idle minutes and our wanton thoughts;
And with his baits, made of our frail desires,
Gives us the hook that hales our souls to hell:
But with the spirit of my kingdom's God
I'll thrust the flattering tyran from his throne,
And scourge his bondslaves from my hallowed court
With rods of iron and thorns of sharpened steel.
Then, Absalon, revenge not thou this sin;
Leave it to me, and I will chasten him.
Abs. I am content: then grant, my lord the king,
Himself with all his other lords would come
Up to my sheep-feast on the plain of Hazor.
Dav. Nay, my fair son, myself with all my lords
Will bring thee too much charge; yet some shall go.
Abs. But let my lord the king himself take pains;
The time of year is pleasant for your grace,
And gladsome summer in her shady robes,
Crowned with roses and with painted flowers,
With all her nymphs, shall entertain my lord,
That, from the thicket of my verdant groves,
Will sprinkle honey-dews about his breast,
And cast sweet balm upon his kingly head:
Then grant thy servant's boon, and go, my lord.
Dav. Let it content my sweet son Absalon,
That I may stay, and take my other lords.
Abs. But shall thy best-beloved Amnon go?
Dav. What needeth it, that Amnon go with thee?
Abs. Yet do thy son and servant so much grace.
Dav. Amnon shall go, and all my other lords,
Because I will give grace to Absalon.

Enter C USAY and U RIAS , with others .

Cu. Pleaseth my lord the king, his servant Joab
Hath sent Urias from the Syrian wars.
Dav. Welcome, Urias, from the Syrian wars,
Welcome to David as his dearest lord.
Ur. Thanks be to Israel's God and David's grace,
Urias finds such greeting with the king.
Dav. No other greeting shall Urias find
As long as David sways th' elected seat
And consecrated throne of Israel.
Tell me, Urias, of my servant Joab;
Fights he with truth the battles of our God,
And for the honour of the Lord's anointed?
Ur. Thy servant Joab fights the chosen wars
With truth, with honour, and with high success,
And, 'gainst the wicked king of Ammon's sons,
Hath, by the finger of our sovereign's God,
Besieged the city Rabbah, and achieved
The court of waters, where the conduits run,
And all the Ammonites' delightsome springs:
Therefore he wisheth David's mightiness
Should number out the host of Israel,
And come in person to the city Rabbah,
That so her conquest may be made the king's,
And Joab fight as his inferior.
Dav. This hath not God and Joab's prowess done
Without Urias' valour, I am sure,
Who, since his true conversion from a Hethite
To an adopted son of Israel,
Hath fought like one whose arms were lift by heaven,
And whose bright sword was edged with Israel's wrath.
Go, therefore, home, Urias, take thy rest;
Visit thy wife and household with the joys
A victor and a favourite of the king's
Should exercise with honour after arms.
Ur. Thy servant's bones are yet not half so crazed,
Nor constitute on such a sickly mould,
That for so little service he should faint,
And seek, as cowards, refuge of his home:
Nor are his thoughts so sensually stirred,
To stay the arms with which the Lord would smite
And fill their circle with his conquered foes,
For wanton bosom of a flattering wife
Dav. Urias hath a beauteous sober wife,
Yet young, and framed of tempting flesh and blood;
Then, when the king hath summoned thee from arms,
If thou unkindly shouldst refrain her bed,
Sin might be laid upon Urias' soul,
If Bethsabe by frailty hurt her fame:
Then go, Urias, solace in her love;
Whom God hath knit to thee, tremble to loose
Ur. The king is much too tender of my ease:
The ark and Israel and Judah dwell
In palaces and rich pavilions;
But Joab and his brother in the fields,
Suffering the wrath of winter and the sun:
And shall Urias (of more shame than they)
Banquet, and loiter in the work of heaven?
As sure as thy soul doth live, my lord,
Mine ears shall never lean to such delight,
When holy labour calls me forth to fight.
Dav. Then be it with Urias' manly heart
As best his fame may shine in Israel.
Ur. Thus shall Urias' heart be best content,
Till thou dismiss me back to Joab's bands:
This ground before the king my master's doors
Shall be my couch, and this unwearied arm
The proper pillow of a soldier's head;
For never will I lodge within my house,
Till Joab triumph in my secret vows.
Dav. Then fetch some flagons of our purest wine,
That we may welcome home our hardy friend
With full carouses to his fortunes past
And to the honours of his future arms;
Then will I send him back to Rabbah siege,
And follow with the strength of Israel.

Enter one with the flagons of wine

Arise, Urias; come and pledge the king
Ur. If David think me worthy such a grace,
I will be bold and pledge my lord the king.
Dav. Absalon and Cusay both shall drink
To good Urias and his happiness.
Abs. We will, my lord, to please Urias' soul
Dav. I will begin, Urias, to thyself,
And all the treasure of the Ammonites,
Which here I promise to impart to thee,
And bind that promise with a full carouse.
Ur. What seemeth pleasant in my sovereign's eyes,
That shall Urias do till he be dead.
Dav. Fill him the cup. [U RIAS drinks. ] — Follow, ye lords that love
Your sovereign's health, and do as he hath done.
Abs. Ill may he thrive, or live in Israel,
That loves not David, or denies his charge. —
Urias, here is to Abisai's health,
Lord Joab's brother and thy loving friend.
Ur. I pledge Lord Absalon and Abisai's health.
Cu. Here now, Urias, to the health of Joab,
And to the pleasant journey we shall have
When we return to mighty Rabbah siege
Ur. Cusay, I pledge thee all with all my heart —
Give me some drink, ye servants of the king;
Give me my drink
Dav. Well done, my good Urias! drink thy fill,
That in thy fulness David may rejoice.
Ur. I will, my lord.
Abs. Now, Lord Urias, one carouse to me.
Ur. No, sir, I'll drink to the king;
Your father is a better man than you.
Dav. Do so, Urias; I will pledge thee straight
Ur. I will indeed, my lord and sovereign;
I['ll] once in my days be so bold.
Dav. Fill him his glass.
Ur. Fill me my glass.
Dav. Quickly, I say. — Here, my lord, by your favour now I drink to you.
Dav. I pledge thee, good Urias, presently.
Abs. Here, then, Urias, once again for me,
And to the health of David's children.
Ur. David's children!
Abs. Ay, David's children: wilt thou pledge me, man?
Ur. Pledge me, man!
Abs. Pledge me, I say, or else thou lov'st us not.
Ur. What, do you talk? do you talk? I'll no more;
I'll lie down here.
Dav. Rather, Urias, go thou home and sleep.
Ur. O, ho, sir! would you make me break my sentence? [ He lies down ] Home, sir! no, indeed, sir: I'll sleep upon mine arm, like a soldier; sleep like a man as long as I live in Israel.
Dav. [ aside .] If naught will serve to save his wife's renown,
I'll send him with a letter unto Joab
To put him in the forefront of the wars,
That so my purposes may take effect. —
Help him in, sirs.
Cu. Come, rise, Urias; get thee in and sleep.
Ur. I will not go home, sir; that's flat
Cu. Then come and rest thee upon David's bed.
Ur. On, afore, my lords, on, afore.

[S ECOND ] Chorus .

Chorus. O proud revolt of a presumptuous man,
Laying his bridle in the neck of sin,
Ready to bear him past his grave to hell!
Like as the fatal raven, that in his voice
Carries the dreadful summons of our deaths,
Flies by the fair Arabian spiceries,
Her pleasant gardens and delightsome parks,
Seeming to curse them with his hoarse exclaims,
And yet doth stoop with hungry violence
Upon a piece of hateful carrion;
So wretched man, displeased with those delights
Would yield a quickening savour to his soul,
Pursues with eager and unstanched thirst
The greedy longings of his loathsome flesh.
If holy David so shook hands with sin,
What shall our baser spirits glory in?
This kingly [ruler] giving lust her rein
Pursues the sequel with a greater ill.
Urias in the forefront of the wars
Is murdered by the hateful heathens' sword,
And David joys his too dear Bethsabe.
Suppose this past, and that the child is born,
Whose death the prophet solemnly doth mourn.