For comfort he hath done to David's woes; ITH. That let not David; for, though we should fly, DAV. What seems them best, then that will David do: But now, my lords, and captains, hear his voice, If then thy love be to thy kinsman sound, Friend him with deeds, and touch no hair of him, O, spoil not, Joab, Jove's fair ornaments, And with his bridle pull'st him to the grave! ITн. We will, my lord, for thy sake favour him. ACHITOPHEL solus, with a halter. ACH. Now hath Achitophel order'd his house, Then set thy angry soul upon her wings, * depend] Old copy" depends." + breath] Old copy [Exit. "breast." Enter ABSALON, AMASA, with all 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; This shall he do for joy when I am king. Then fight, brave captains, that these joys may fly, your bosoms with sweet victory. Into [Exeunt. The battle, and ABSALON hangs by the hair. ABS. What angry angel, sitting in these shades, With sense and power to loose me from this plague, JOAB, with another Soldier. SOLD. My lord, I saw the young prince Absalon Hang by the hair upon a shady oak, And could by no means get himself unloos'd. 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 * shekels] Old copy "sickles." + waist] i. e. girdle: old copy "wast." SOLD. Not for a thousand shekels would I slay The son of David, whom, his father charg'd Nor thou, Abisai, nor the son of Gath, 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 accus'd me as a man of death. JOAB. I must not now stand trifling here with thee. ABS. Help, Joab, help, O, help thy Absalon! Let not thy angry thoughts be laid in blood, In blood of him, that somețimes nourish'd thee, And soften'd thy sweet heart with friendly love : O, 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 sound 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 nought but pride and stubbornness ? |