"Now in the valley he stands; through's youthful face
Wrath checks the beauty, and sheds manly grace,
Both in his looks so join'd that they might move Fear ev'n in friends, and from an enemy love; Hot as ripe noon, sweet as the blooming day, Like July furious, but more fair than May. Th' accurs'd Philistian stands on th' other side, Grumbling aloud, and smiles 'twixt rage and pride.
'The plagues of Dagon! a smooth boy,' said he, A cursed beardless foe oppes'd to me!
Hell! with what aims (hence thou ford child) he's come!
Some friend his mother call to drive him home. Not gone yet? if one minute more thou stay, The birds of heaven shall bear thee dead away. Gods! a curs'd boy !'-the rest then murmuring out,
He walks and casts a deadly grin about. David with cheerful apger in his eyes, Advances boldly on and thus replies:
Thou com'st vain man! all arin'd into the field, And trustest those war toys, thy sword and shield:
Thy pride's my spear, thy blasphemics my sword;
My shield, thy Maker, fool! the mighty Lord Of thee and battles; who hath sent forth me Unarm'd thus, not to fight, but, conquer thee. In vain shall Dagon, thy false hope withstand; In vain thy other god, thine own right hand: Thy fall to man shall Heaven's strong justice shew;
Wretch 'tis the only good that thou can'st do.'
"He said; our host stood dully silent by; And durst not trust their ears against the eye; As much their champion's threats to him they fear'd,
As when themonster's threats to them they heard. His flaning sword the enrag'd Philistian shakes, And haste t' his ruin with loud curses makes; Backwards the winds his active curses blew, And fatally round his own head they flew : For now from David's sling the stone is fled, And strikes with joyful noise the monster's head; It strook his forehead, and pierc'd deeply there, As swiftly as it pierc'd before the air:
Their jocund shouts th' air like a storm did tear, Th' amazed clouds fled swift away with fear: But far more swift th' accurs'd Philistines fly, And, their ill fate to perfect, basely die. With thousand corpse the ways around are strown,
Till they by the day's flight secure their own. Now through the camp sounds nought but David's
To generous dangers, that his hate might clear, And Fateor Chance the blame, nay David, bear. So vain are man's designs! for Fate and Chance, And Farth and Heaven, conspir'd to his advance: His beauty, youth, courage, and wondrous wit, In all mankind but Saul did love beget. Not Saul's own house, not his own nearest blood, The noble cause's sacred truth withstood. You've met, no doubt, and kindly us'd, the fame
Of God-like Jonathan's illustrious name; A name which every wind to Heaven would bear, Which men to speak and angels joy to hear. No angel e'er bore to his brother mind A kindness more exalted and refin'd, Than his to David; which look'd nobly down, And scorn'd the false alarums of a crown. At Dammin field he stood, and from his place Leap'd forth the wondrous conqueror to em- brace;
On him his mantle, girdle, sword, and bow, On him his heart and soul he did bestow : Not all that Saul could threaten or persuade, In this close knot the smallest looseness made. Oft his wise care did the king's rage suspend; His own life's danger shelter'd oft his friend; Which he expos'd a sacrifice to fall By th' undiscerning rage of furious Saul. Nor was young David's active virtue grown Strong and triumphant in one sex alone; Imperious Beauty too it durst invade, And deeper prints in the soft breast it made: With fair and flourishing boughs itself a wood-For there, t' Esteem and Friendship's graver Though it might long the axe's violence bear, And play'd with winds which other trees did
Down, down he falls, and bites in vain the ground:
Blood, brain, and soul, croud mingled through the wound!
So a strong oak, which many years had stood
Yet by the thunder's stroke from th' root 'tis
(So sure the blows that from high Heaven are sent!)
What tongue the joy and wonder can express, Which did that moment our whole host possess !
Passion was pour'd, like oil into the flame. Like two bright eyes in a fair body plac'd, Saul's royal house two beauteous daughters grac'd;
Merab the first, Michal the younger nam'd, Both equally for different glories fam'd. Merab with spacious beauty fill'd the sight, But too much awe chastis'd the bold delight:
Like a calm sea, which to th' enlarged view Gives pleasure, but gives fear and reverence too. Michal's sweet looks clear and free joys did
And no less strong, though much more gentle, love:
Like virtuous kings, whom men rejoice t' obey (Tyrants themselves less absolute than they). Merab appear'd like some fair princely tower; Michal, some virgin-queen's delicious bower. All Beauty's stores in little and in great; But the contracted beams shot fiercest heat. A clean and lively brown was Merab's dye, Such as the prouder colours might envy : Michal's pure skin shone with such taintless white,
As scatter'd the weak rays of hunan sight; Her lips and cheeks a nobler red did shew, Than e'er on fruits or flowers Heaven's pencil drew;
From Merab's eyes fierce and quick lightnings
From Michal's, the Sun's mild, yet active, flame: Merab's long hair was glossy chesnut brown; Tresses of palest gold did Michal crown. Such was their outward form; and one might find A difference not unlike it in the mind. Merab with comely majesty and state Bore high th' advantage of her worth and fate; Such humble sweetness did soft Michal show, That none who reach so high e'er stoop'd so low. Merab rejoic'd in her wrack'd lovers' pain, And fortify'd her virtue with disdain : The griefs she caus'd, gave gentle Michal grief (She wish'd her beauties less, for their relief); Ev'n to her captives civil; yet th' excess Of naked virtue guarded her no less. [vex; Business and power Merab's large thoughts did Her wit disdain'd the fetters of her sex : Michal no less disdain'd affairs and noise, Yet did it not from ignorance, but choice. In brief, both copies were more sweetly drawn; Merab of Saul, Michal of Jonathan.
"The day that David great Goliah slew, Not great Goliah's sword was more his due Than Merab, by Saul's public promise she Was sold then, and betroth'd to victory; But haughty she did this just match despise (Her pride debauch'd her judgment and her eyes).
An unknown youth, ne'er seen at court before, Who shepherd's staff, and shepherd's habit, bore, The seventh-born son of no rich house-were still Th' unpleasant forms which her high thoughts did fill:
And much aversion in her stubborn mind Was bred by being promis'd and design'd. Long had the patient Adriel humbly borne The roughest shocks of her imperious scorn: Adriel the rich; but riches were in vain, And could not set him free, nor her enchain. Long liv'd they thus;-but, as the hunted deer, Closely pursued, quits all her wonted fear, And takes the nearest waves, which from the She oft with horrour had beheld before: So, whilst the violent maid from David fled, She leap'd to Adriel's long-avoided bed; The match was nam'd, agreed, and finish'd, straight;
(So soon comply'd Saul's envy with her hate!)
But Michal, in whose breast all virtues move, That hatch the pregnant seeds of sacred love, With juster eyes the noble object meets, And turns all Merab's poison into sweets: She saw, and wonder'd how a youth unknown Should make all fame to come so soon his own: She saw, and wonder'd how a shepherd's crook Despis'd that sword at which the sceptre shook; Though he seventh-born, and tho' his house but poor;
She knew it noble was, and would be more. Oft had she heard, and fancy'd oft the sight, With what a generous calm he march'd to fight; In the great danger how exempt from fear, And after it from pride, he did appear. Greatness and goodness, and an air divine, She saw through all his words and actions shine; She heard his eloquent tongue, and charming lyre,
Whose artful sounds did violent love inspire, Though us'd all other passions to relieve: She weigh'd all this; and well we may conceive, When those strong thoughts attack'd her doubtful breast,
His beauty no less active than the rest.
The fire thus kindled soon grew fierce and great, When David's breast reflected back its heat. Soon she perceiv'd (scarce can love hidden lie From any sight, much less the loving eye) She conqueror was, as well as overcome, And gain'd no less abroad than lost at home. Ev'n the first hour they met (for such a pair, Who in all mankind else so matchless were, Yet their own equals, Nature's self does wed) A mutual warmth through both their bosoms spread:
Fate gave the signal; both at once began The gentle race, and with just pace they ran. Ev'n so, methinks, when two fair tapers come From several doors, entering at once the room, With a swift flight, that leaves the eye behind, Their amorous lights into one light are join'd. Nature herself, were she to judge the case, Knew not which first began the kind embrace. Michal her modest flames sought to conceal, But love even th' art to hide it does reveal: Her soft unpractis'd eyes betray'd the theft, Love pass'd through them, and there such foot- steps left!
She blush'd when he approach'd, and when he spoke;
And suddenly her wandering answers broke At his name's sound; and, when she heard him
With concern'd haste her thoughtful looks she rais'd.
Uncall'd-for sighs oft from her bosom flew, And Adriel's active friend she abruptly grew. Oft, when the court's gay youth stood waiting She strove to act a cold indifferency; In vain she acted so constrain'd a part, For thousand nameless things disclos'd her heart. On th' other side, David with silent pain Did in respectful bounds his fires contain : His humble fear t' offend, and trembling awe, Impos'd on him a no-less rigorous law
Than modesty on her; and, though he strove To make her see 't, he durst not tell his love. To tell it first, the timorous youth made choice Of Music's bolder and more active voice;
And thus, beneath her window, did he touch His faithful lyre; the words and numbers such As did well worth my memory appear, And may perhaps deserve your princely ear:
'AWAKE, awake, my Lyre!
And tell thy silent master's humble talk, In sounds that may prevail; Sounds that gentle thoughts inspire: Though so exalted she,
With ease a brother's lawful power o'ercame The formal decencies of virgin-shame. She first with all her heart forgave the past, Heard David tell his flames, and told her own st last.
Lo here the happy point of prosperous love! Which ev'n enjoyment seldom can improve. Themselves agreed, which scarce could fail alone;
All Israel's wish concurrent with their own; A brother's powerful aid firm to the side; By solemn vow the king and father ty'd:
Tell her, such different notes make all thy har-All jealous fears, all nice disguises, past,
"She heard all this, and the prevailing sound Touch'd with delightful pain her tender wound. Yet, though she joy'd th' authentic news to hear, Of what she guess'd before with jealous fear, She check'd her forward joy, and blush'd for shame,
All that in less-ripe love offends the taste; In either's breast their souls both meet and wed, Their heart the nuptial-temple and the bed. And, though the grosser cates were yet not drest, By which their bodies must supply this feast, Bold hopes prevent slow pleasure's lingering birth, As saints, assur'd of Heaven, enjoy 't on Earth. All this the king observ'd; and well he saw What scandal, and what danger, it might draw T'oppose this just and popular match; but meant T'out-malice all refusals by consent.
He meant the poisonous grant should mortal prove;
He meant t' ensnare his virtue by his love: And thus he to him spoke, with more of art And fraud, than well became the kingly part:-
And did his boldness with forc'd anger blame. The senseless rules which first false honour taught, And into laws the tyrant custom brought- Which women's pride and folly did invent, Their lovers and themselves too to torment,- Made her next day a grave displeasure fain, And all her words, and all her looks, constrain Before the trembling youth; who, when he saw His vital light her wonted beams withdraw, He curs'd his voice, his fingers, and his lyre, He curs'd his too-hold tongue, and bold desire; In vain he cursed the last, for that still grew; From all things food its strong complexion drew; His joy and hope their cheerful motions ceas'd, His life decay'd, but still his love increas'd; Whilst she, whose heart approv'd not her disdain, Saw and endur'd his pains with greater pain. But Jonathan, to whom both hearts were known, With a concernment equ 1 to their own (Joyful that Heaven with is sworn love comply'd To draw that knot more fast which he had ty'd)
With well-tim'd zeal, and with an artful care, Restor'd, and better'd soon, the nice affair.
Your valour, David, and high worth, said he, To praise is all men's duty, mine to see Rewarded; and we shall t' our utmost powers Do with like care that part, as you did yours. Forbid it, God! we like those kings should prove, Who fear the virtues which they're bound to love.
Your piety does that tender point secure, Nor will my acts such humble thoughts endure: Your nearness to't rather supports the crown, And th' honours given to you increase our own. All that we can we 'll give; 'tis our intent, Both as a guard and as an ornament, [prove, To place thee next ourselves; Heaven does ap- And my son's friendship, and my daughter's love,
Guide fatally, methinks, my willing choice; I see, methinks, Heaven in 't, and I rejoice. Blush not, my son! that Michal's love I name, Nor need she blush to hear it; 'tis no shame Nor secret now; fame does it loudy tell, And all men but thy rivals like it well. If Merab's choice could have complied with mine, Merab, my elder comfort, had been thine: And her's, at last, should have with mine com-
Had I not thine and Michal's heart descry'd Take whom thou lov'st, and who loves thee; the last
And dearest present made me hy the chaste Ahinoam; and, unless she me deceive, When I to Jonathan my crown shall leave, "Twill be a smaller gift.
If I thy generous thoughts may undertake To guess, they are what jointure thou shalt make Fitting her birth and fortune: and, since so Custom ordains, we mean t'exact it too. The jointure we exact is, that shall be No less advantage to thy fame than she. Go where Philistian troops infest the land. Renew the terrours of thy conquering hand:
A public good shall its beginning grace, And give triumphant omens of thy race.' "Thus spoke the king: the happy youth bow'd low:
Modest and graceful his great joy did show; The noble task well pleas'd his generous mind, And nought t' except against it could he find, But that his mistress' price too cheap appear'd; No danger, but her scorn of it, he fear'd. She with much different sense the news receiv'd, At her high rate she trembled, blush'd, and griev'd;
'Twas a less work the conquest of his foes, Than to obtain her leave his life t' expose. Their kind debate on this soft point would prove Tedious, and needless, to repeat: if love (As sure it has) e'er touch'd your princely breast,
'Twill to your gentle thoughts at full suggest All that was done, or said; the grief, hope, fears;
His troubled joys, and her obliging tears. In all the pomp of passion's reign they part; And bright prophetic forms enlarge his heart: Victory and fame, and that more quick delight Of the rich prize for which he was to fight.
"Tow'rds Gath he went, and in one month (so A fatal and a willing work is done!) A double dower, two hundred foreskins, brought Of choice Philistian knights with whom he fought, Men that in birth and valour did excel, Fit for the cause and hand by which they fell. Now was Saul caught; nor longer could delay The two resistless lovers' happy day. [slow, Though this day's coming long had seem'd and Yet seem'd its stay as long and tedious now; For, now the violent weight of eager love
Did with more haste so near its centre move, He curs'd the stops of form and state which lay In this last stage, like scandals, in his way. "On a large gentle hill crown'd with tall wood, Near where the regal Gabaah proudly stood, A tent was pitch'd, of green wrought damask made,
And seem'd but the fresh forest's natural shade; Various and vast within, on pillars borne Of Shittim-wood, that usefully adorn, Hither to grace the nuptial-feast, does Saul Of the twelve tribes th' elders and captains call: And all around the idle, busy crowd With shouts and blessings tell their joy aloud. Lo! the press breaks, and from their several homes
In decent pride the bride and bridegroom comes. Before the bride, in a long double row With solemn pace thirty choice virgins go, And make a moving galaxy on Earth;
All heavenly beauties, all of highest birth 3
All clad in liveliest colours, fresh and fair As the bright flowers that crown'd their brighter hair;
All in that new-blown age which does inspire Warmth in themselves, in their beholders fire. But all this, and all else the Sun did e'er, Or Fancy see, in her less-bounded sphere, The bride herself outshone; and one would say They made but the faint dawn to her full day. Behind a numerous train of ladies went, Who on their dress much fruitless care had spent; Vain gems, and unregarded cost, they bore, For all men's eyes were ty'd to those before. The bridegroom's flourishing troop fill'd next the place,
With thirty comely youths of noblest race, That march'd before; and Heaven around his head
The graceful beams of joy and beauty spread. So the glad star, which men and angels love, Prince of the glorious host that shies above (No light of Heaven so chearful or so gay) Lifts up his sacred lamp, and opens day. The king himself, at the tent's crowned gate, In all his robes of ceremony and state, Sate to receive the train; on either hand Did the high-priest and the great prophet stand: Adriel, behind, Jonathan, Abner, Jesse, And all the chiefs in their due order press. First Saul declar'd his choice, and the just cause Avow'd by a general murmur of applause; Then sign'd her dower; and in few words he pray'd,
And blest, and gave the joyful, trembling maid T' her lover's hands; who, with a cheerful look And humble gesture, the vast present took. The nuptial-hymn straight sounds, and musics play,
And feasts and balls shorten the thoughtless day To all but to the wedded; till at last The long-wish'd night did her kind shadow cast At last th' inestimable hour was come To lead his conquering prey in triumph home. Ta palace near, drest for the nuptial-bed, (Part of her dower) he his fair princess led; Saul, the high-priest, and Samuel, here they leave,
Who, as they part, their weighty blessings give. Her vail is now put on; and at the gate
The thirty youths and thirty virgins wait
With golden lamps, bright as the flames they bore, To light the nuptial-pomp and march before; The rest bring home in state the happy pair, To that last scene of bliss, and leave them there All those free joys insatiably to prove, With which rich Beauty feasts the glutton Love. "But scarce, alas! the first seven days were past,
In which the public nuptial triumphs last, When Saul this new alliance did repent (Such subtle cares his jealous thoughts torment!) He envy'd the good work himself had done; Fear'd David less his servant than his son. No longer his wild wrath could he command; He seeks to stain his own imperial hand In his son's hlood; and, that twice cheated too, With troops and armies does one life pursue. Said I but one! his thirsty rage extends To th' lives of all his kindred and his friends !
Ev'n Jonathan had dy'd for being so, Had not just God put-by th' unnatural blow. "You see, sir, the true cause which brings us here:
No sullen discontent, or groundless fear; No guilty act or end calls us from home; Only to breathe in peace awhile we come ; Ready to serve, and in mean space to pray For you, who us receive, and him who, drives away."
Moab carries bis guest to hunt at Nebo; in the way falls into discourse with David, and desires to know of him the reasons of the change of government in Israel; how Saul came to the crown, and the story of him and Jonathan. David's speech, containing the state of the commonwealth under the Judges; the motives for which the people desired a king; their deputies' speech to Samuel upon that subject, and his reply. The assembling of the people at the tabernacle, to inquire God's pleasure. God's speech. The character of Saul; his anointing by Samuel, and election by lot; the defection of his people. The war of Nahash king of Ammon against JabeshGilead; Saul and Jonathan's relieving of the town. Jonathan's character; his single fight with Nahash, whom he slays, and defeats his army. The confirmation of Saul's kingdom at Gilgal, and the manner of Samuel's quitting his office of judge. The war with the Philistines at Macmas: their strength, and the weakness of Saul's forces; his exercising of the priestly function, and the judgment denounced by Samuel against him. Jonathan's discourse with his esquire; their falling alone upon the enemy's out-guards at Senes, and after upon the whole army; the wonderful defeat of it. Saul's rash row, by which Jonathan is to be put to death, but is saved by the people.
Since last night's story, and with greedier ear The man, of whom so much he heard, did hear. The well-born youth of all his flourishing court March gay behind, and joyful, to the sport; Some arm'd with bows, some with straight javelins, ride;
Rich swords and gilded quivers grace their side. 'Midst the fair troop David's tall brethren rode, And Joab, comely as a fancied god;
They entertain'd th' attentive Moab lords With loose and various talk that chance affords, Whilst they pac'd slowly on; but the wise king Did David's tongue to weightier subjects bring. "Much," said the king, "much I to Joab owe, For the fair picture drawn by him of you; 'Twas drawn in little, but did acts express So great, that largest histories are less.
I see, methinks, the Gathian monster still; His shape last night my mindful dreams did fill. Strange tyrant, Saul, with envy to pursue The praise of deeds whence his own safety grew! I've heard (but who can think it?) that his son Has his life's hazard for your friendship run; His matchless son, whose worth (if fame be true) Lifts him 'bove all his countrymen but you, With whom it makes him one." Low David bows,
But no reply Moab's swift tongue allows. "And pray, kind guest! whilst we ride thus," says he,
"(To gameful Nebo still three leagues there be) The story of your royal friend relate, And his ungovern'd sire's imperious fate; Why your great state that nameless family chose,
And by what steps to Israel's throne they
He said and David thus:" From Egypt's land You've heard, sir, by what strong unarmed hand Our fathers came, Moses their sacred guide; But he in sight of the given country dy'd : His fatal promis'd Canaan was on high, And Joshua's sword must the active rod supply: It did so, and did wonders.
From sacred Jordan to the Western main, From well-clad Libanus to the Southern plain Of naked sands his winged conquest went : And thirty kings to Hell uncrown'd he sent. Almost four hundred years, from him to Saul, In too much freedom past, or foreign thrail. Oft strangers' iron sceptres bruis'd the land,
THOUGH state and kind discourse thus robb'd (Such still are those borne by a conquering hand)
Of half her natural and more just delight, Moab (whom temperance did still vigorous keep, And regal cares had us'd to moderate sleep) Up with the Sun arose; and, having thrice With lifted hands bow'd towards his shining rise, And thrice tow'rds Phegor,his Baal's holiest hill, (With good and pious prayers, directed ill) Call'd to the chase his friends, who for him stay'd;
The glad dogs bark'd, the cheerful horses neigh'd. Moab his chariot mounts, drawn by four steeds, The best and noblest that fresh Zerith breeds, All white as snow, and spriteful as the light, With scarlet trapt, and foaming gold they bite. He into it young David with him took, Did with respect and wonder on him look
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