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Bright Bethsabe gives earth to my desires;
Open the doors, and entertain my love;
Enter CusAY, with BETHSABE.
Welcome, fair Bethsabe, king David's darling;
DAv. My love, if want of love have left thy soul A sharper sense of honour than thy king, (For love leads princes sometimes from their seats,) As erst my heart was hurt, displeasing thee, So come and taste thy ease with easing me. BETH. One medicine cannot heal our different harms; But rather make both rankle at the bone: Then let the king be cunning in his cure, Lest flattering both, both perish in his hand, DAv. Leave it to me, my dearest Bethsabe, Whose skill is conversant in deeper cures: And, Cusay, haste thou to my servant Joab, Commanding him to send Urias home With all the speed can possibly be us'd. CU. Cusay will fly about the king's desire. [Ereunt. Enter JoAB, ABIs A1, URIAs, and others, with drum and ensign. JoAB. Courage, ye mighty men of Israel, And charge your fatal instruments of war Upon the bosoms of proud Ammon's sons, That have disguis'd your king's ambassadors, Cut half their beards, and half their garments off, In spite of Israel, and his daughters' sons; Ye fight the holy battles of Jehovah, King David's God, and ours, and Jacob's God, That guides your weapons to their conquering strokes, Orders your footsteps, and directs your thoughts To stratagems that harbour victory:
He casts his sacred eyesight from on high,
HANoN, with King MACHAAs and others, upon the walls.
HA. What would the shepherd's dogs of Israel Snatch from the mighty issue of king Ammon, The valiant Ammonites, and haughty Syrians? 'Tis not your late successive victories Can make us yield, or quail our courages; But if ye dare assay to scale this tower, Our angry swords shall smite ye to the ground, And venge our losses on your hateful lives.
JoAB. Hanon, thy father Nahas gave relief To holy David in his hapless exile, Lived his fixed date, and died in peace; But thou, instead of reaping his reward, Hast trod it under foot, and scorn'd our king : Therefore thy days shall end with violence, And to our swords thy vital blood shall cleave. MACH. Hence, thou that bear'st poor Israel's shepherd's hook, The proud lieutenant of that base-born king, And keep within the compass of his fold; For, if ye seek to feed on Ammon's fruits, And stray into the Syrians' fruitful meads, The mastives of our land shall worry" ye, And pull the weesels + from your greedy throats. ABIs. Who can endure these Pagans' blasphemies? UR. My soul repines at this disparagement. JoAB. Assault, ye valiant men of David's host, And beat these railing dastards from their doors. Assault, and they win the tower, and JoAB speaks above. Thus have we won the tower, which we will keep, Maugre the sons of Ammon and of Syria.
Enter CUSAY, beneath. CU. Where is lord Joab, leader of the host? JoAB. Here is lord Joab, leader of the host. Cusay, come up, for we have won the hold. [He comes. * worry] Old copy “werry.”
t weesels] i. e. weasands: this word is spelt by some of our old writers “wesils.”