Part 61 (1/2)

A thousand sp'rits peeped from the affrighted sky, Amazed at this strange scene, and almost fear'd, For all those joyful prophecies they'd heard; Till one leaped nimbly forth, by G.o.d's command, Like lightning from a cloud, and stopped his hand.

The gentle sp'rit smiled kindly as he spoke; New beams of joy through Abram's wonder broke The angel points to a tuft of bushes near, Where an entangled ram does half appear, And struggles vainly with that fatal net, Which, though but slightly wrought, was firmly set: For, lo! anon, to this sad glory doomed, The useful beast on Isaac's pile consumed; Whilst on his horns the ransomed couple played, And the glad boy danced to the tunes he made.

Near this hall's end a s.h.i.+ttim table stood, Yet well-wrought plate strove to conceal the wood; For from the foot a golden vine did sprout, And cast his fruitful riches all about.

Well might that beauteous ore the grape express, Which does weak man intoxicate no less.

Of the same wood the gilded beds were made, And on them large embroidered carpets laid, From Egypt, the rich shop of follies, brought; But arts of pride all nations soon are taught.

Behold seven comely blooming youths appear, And in their hands seven silver washpots bear, Curled, and gay clad, the choicest sons that be Of Gibeon's race, and slaves of high degree.

Seven beauteous maids marched softly in behind, Bright scarves their clothes, their hair fresh garlands bind, And whilst the princes wash, they on them shed Rich ointments, which their costly odours spread O'er the whole room; from their small prisons free, With such glad haste through the wide air they flee.

The King was placed alone, and o'er his head A well-wrought heaven of silk and gold was spread, Azure the ground, the sun in gold shone bright, But pierced the wandering clouds with silver light.

The right-hand bed the King's three sons did grace, The third was Abner's, Adriel's, David's place: And twelve large tables more were filled below, With the prime men Saul's court and camp could show.

The palace did with mirth and music sound, And the crowned goblets nimbly moved around: But though bright joy in every guest did s.h.i.+ne, The plenty, state, music, and sprightful wine, Were lost on Saul: an angry care did dwell In his dark breast, and all gay forms expel.

David's unusual absence from the feast, To his sick sp'rit did jealous thoughts suggest: Long lay he still, nor drank, nor ate, nor spoke, And thus at last his troubled silence broke.

'Where can he be?' said he. 'It must be so.'

With that he paused awhile. 'Too well we know His boundless pride: he grieves, and hates to see The solemn triumphs of my court and me.

Believe me, friends! and trust what I can show From thousand proofs; the ambitious David now Does those vast things in his proud soul design, That too much business give for mirth or wine.

He's kindling now, perhaps, rebellious fire Among the tribes, and does even now conspire Against my crown, and all our lives, whilst we Are loth even to suspect what we might see.

By the Great Name 'tis true.'

With that he strook the board, and no man there, But Jonathan, durst undertake to clear The blameless prince: and scarce ten words he spoke, When thus his speech the enraged tyrant broke:

'Disloyal wretch! thy gentle mother's shame!

Whose cold, pale ghost even blushes at thy name!

Who fears lest her chaste bed should doubted be, And her white fame stained by black deeds of thee!

Canst thou be mine? A crown sometimes does hire Even sons against their parents to conspire; But ne'er did story yet, or fable, tell Of one so wild who, merely to rebel, Quitted the unquestioned birthright of a throne, And bought his father's ruin with his own.

Thou need'st not plead the ambitious youth's defence; Thy crime clears his, and makes that innocence: Nor can his foul ingrat.i.tude appear, Whilst thy unnatural guilt is placed so near.

Is this that n.o.ble friends.h.i.+p you pretend?

Mine, thine own foe, and thy worst enemy's friend?

If thy low spirit can thy great birthright quit, The thing's but just, so ill deserv'st thou it.

I, and thy brethren here, have no such mind, Nor such prodigious worth in David find, That we to him should our just rights resign, Or think G.o.d's choice not made so well as thine.

Shame of thy house and tribe! hence from mine eye; To thy false friend and servile master fly; He's ere this time in arms expecting thee; Haste, for those arms are raised to ruin me.

Thy sin that way will n.o.bler much appear, Than to remain his spy and agent here.

When I think this, Nature, by thee forsook, Forsakes me too.' With that his spear he took To strike at him: the mirth and music cease; The guests all rise this sudden storm t' appease.

The prince his danger and his duty knew, And low he bowed, and silently withdrew.

To David straight, who in a forest nigh Waits his advice, the royal friend does fly.

The sole advice, now, like the danger clear, Was in some foreign land this storm t' outwear.

All marks of comely grief in both are seen, And mournful kind discourses pa.s.sed between.

Now generous tears their hasty tongues restrain; Now they begin, and talk all o'er again: A reverent oath of constant love they take, And G.o.d's high name their dreaded witness make: Not that at all their faiths could doubtful prove, But 'twas the tedious zeal of endless love.

Thus, ere they part, they the short time bestow In all the pomp friends.h.i.+p and grief could show.

And David now, with doubtful cares oppressed, Beneath a shade borrows some little rest; When by command divine thick mists arise, And stop the sense, and close the conquered eyes.

There is a place which man most high doth rear, The small world's heaven, where reason moves the sphere; Here in a robe which does all colours show, (The envy of birds, and the clouds' gaudy bow,) Fancy, wild dame, with much lascivious pride, By twin-chameleons drawn, does gaily ride: Her coach there follows, and throngs round about Of shapes and airy forms an endless rout.

A sea rolls on with harmless fury here; Straight 'tis a field, and trees and herbs appear.

Here in a moment are vast armies made, And a quick scene of war and blood displayed.

Here sparkling wines, and brighter maids come in, The bawds for Sense, and lying baits of sin.

Some things arise of strange and quarrelling kind, The forepart lion, and a snake behind.

Here golden mountains swell the covetous place, And Centaurs ride themselves, a painted race.

Of these slight wonders Nature sees the store, And only then accounts herself but poor.

Hither an angel comes in David's trance, And finds them mingled in an antique dance; Of all the numerous forms fit choice he takes, And joins them wisely, and this vision makes.

First, David there appears in kingly state, Whilst the Twelve Tribes his dread commands await: Straight to the wars with his joined strength he goes, Settles new friends, and frights his ancient foes.

To Solima, Canaan's old head, they came, (Since high in note, then not unknown to Fame,) The blind and lame the undoubted wall defend, And no new wounds or dangers apprehend.