) *% 4 . 
 
DAVIDEIS: 
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE 
 
 ■ 
 
 OF 
 
 DAVID, 
 
 K I N G OF ISRAEL; 
 
 SACRED POEM. 
 
 IN FIVE BOOKS. 
 
 BY THOMAS ELLWOOD* 
 
 >cribimus indacti doctique poemeta..— Hor, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 
 fRINTED BY JOSEPH CRUKSKAfrK 
 
 1805 
 
£JS£ 
 
 TO THE READER, 
 
 WHEN first I began the following Poem I was so 
 far from thinking of the Press that I aimed no 
 farther than to describe, and that for my own diversion 
 •nly, the monomachie, or single combat, between the 
 giant and the stripling, great Goliah, and little David. 
 
 After I had, in such sort as it is, performed that, I 
 was drawn on, insensibly, as it were, to set forth the 
 noble friendship, which, upon the great achievement of 
 David's, was contracted between Prince Jonathan and 
 him; with the effects of both, the advancement of David 
 to places of honour, trust and power, and his brave disr 
 charge thereof, in the service of his king and country. 
 Which, as it gained him the great love of the people, so> 
 it procured him the high displeasure of the king r And 
 as consequent thereof, the troubles he afterwards went 
 through. 
 
 Having attended him so far in his prosperity and great- 
 ness, I could not find in my heart, meMought, to leave 
 him in his adversity and depressed state ; but accompany- 
 ing him through -his sufferings under Saul, I waited on 
 hiirr, till I had seen him fairly settled on the Throne of 
 Israel. 
 
 There again I made a stand, as willing to have made; 
 that the bound of my undertaking. But after I had paus- 
 ed a while, looked back, and viewed the steps I had 
 taken ; observed from what a low beginning, through 
 what extream difficulties and hardships, to what a tow- 
 ering pitch of height and glory our hero was advanced ^ 
 and considered also, how soon this great and mighty 
 monarch, this excellent man, through a sudden temp- 
 tation of lust, excited by the alluring bait of beauty s 
 
iv TO THE READER, 
 
 fell into those gross and heinous sins of adultery and 
 murder ; I could not forebear to display that part of his 
 life also, as foreseeing there might some useful remarks 
 be made thereon, which might be of service to caution 
 others. Wherefore, running hastly over the former part 
 of his reign, and but lightly touching, in a general way, 
 his wars and martial enterprizes ; I entered as directly 
 as I well could, upon the foul story of fair Bethsheba ', 
 and as consequent thereof, the contrived death of her a- 
 bused husband, the brave and valiant Uriah. Which, 
 with the better account of David's eminent sorrow for 
 it, repentance of it, recovery from it, and restoration to 
 the favour of God again, closes the third book. 
 
 There, indeed, I was forced to make another stop ; 
 which I thought would have proved a full stop : For it 
 lasted more than twenty years. The Poem was begun, 
 and so far carried on (excepting only the first chapter of 
 the first book) in the year 1588 ; when the Prince of 
 Orange landing, and the nation being in arms 5 the noise 
 of guns, the sound of drums and trumpets ec affrighted 
 and disturbed my peaceful muse, that both she for a 
 while foresook me, and I thereupon the work, save that, 
 upon a review, some time after, observing how abrupt- 
 ly David was brought in ; that he might net look like 
 one of the knights-errant of old, rushing into a fray 
 with his beaver down, that none could know either who 
 he was, or whence he cane I added the first chapter ; 
 thereby beginning the Story a little higher, that I might 
 oduce my hero with somewhat more advantage. 
 
 There it rested, without any respect of its ever going 
 further, until the last winter ; when having less health, 
 and more leisure, than at some times before, I took it 
 up for an entertainment, to make some uneasy hours 
 pass somewhat less uneasily over. And after I had read 
 it through, considering with myself, that if, after my 
 death, being found amongst my loose papers, it should 
 be committed to the press, it could pass for, at best, but 
 an imperfeel, or unfinished piece ; I found an inclination 
 
 of 
 
TO THE READER. v 
 
 of mind, to carry on the story, if I could, to the. end of 
 David's life. Wherefore, giving a kind invitation to 
 my gentle muse to return (who by some short visits, on 
 particular occasions, in the interval, had given me some 
 ground to hope she had not quite abandoned me) I en- 
 tered again upon the subject, where I had left off ; and 
 by degrees went through it, till I had brought my war- 
 like hero to his peaceful grave. 
 
 After it was finished, deliberating abotit the publish- 
 ing of it ; as whether to publish it myself, or leave it, 
 as a posthume, to be published (if thought fit) by some 
 kind hand, after my death : The reasons which turned 
 the balance for present printing were, first, that at pre- 
 sent the press is open ; which possibly may hereafter be 
 shut. And secondly, that if, upon publication of it, 
 Momus should carp (which he is but too apt to do, even' 
 where there is less - occasion for it) I might be at hard, 
 ready myself, to answer his cavils, who, if any cause be 
 given for them, gave it ; though assuredly, without any 
 in tention so to dc, 
 
 Till I had wholly finished, and transcribed also, t : :!s 
 Poem, I had not had the opportunity of perusing tbft 
 learned Cowley's Davideis ; though I had he a/. 1 . •' 
 it, and I think, had once a transient sight of it, I 
 I began this. Since I have read it through, with my 
 best attention; and am very well pleased, that I had 
 not read it before ; lest his great name, high style, and 
 lefty fancy, should have led me, tho J unawares, into an 
 apish Imitation of them ; which doubtless would have 
 looked very oddly and ill in me, how admirable soever 
 in him. 
 
 His arm and mine differ widely ; the method of 'each 
 no less. He wrote for learned ; and those too of the 
 upper form ; and his flights are unanswerable. I write 
 far common readers ; in a style familiar, and easy to be 
 understood by such* His woidd have needed (if he had 
 »ot added it) a large paraphrase upon it, to explain the 
 
 ffttft-7 
 A 2 
 
vi TO THE READER. 
 
 many di^cuit passages in it. Mine, as it has none, will 
 not I hope, need any. 
 
 I have the same aim in this, the same inducement t^ 
 it, as I had writting the sacred history of both the Old 
 and New-Testament, viz. To invite and to endeavour to 
 draw all the Youth especially, of either sex, to improve 
 their time and studies, by employing both in reading 
 better books, written on better subjects, than too many 
 of them too often do. 
 
 I am not so wholly a stranger to the Writings of the 
 most celebrated poets, as well ancient as modern, as not 
 to know, that the great embellishments of their Poems 
 mostly in their extravagant, and almost bound- 
 Less fancies ; amazing, and even dazelling nights ; lux- 
 urious inventions ; wild hyperboles ; lofty language ; 
 with an introduction of angels, spirits, daemons, and 
 their respective deities, &c. which, as not suitable to 
 nay purpose, I industriously abstained from. 
 
 In a word, I am not so vain to seek applause, I do 
 rot expect to be commended. If criticks, on the one 
 hand, and carpers on the other, will give me leave to 
 pass the streets quietly, without quarrelling or jostling, 
 i.is all I ask at their hands. I don't affect the title of 
 Poet. Let 'em call me, in that respect, what they 
 please. The learned and good-natured, will, I hope, 
 be favourable in their* censures : The ignorant and crab- 
 bed I regard not. I am more modest than to expect 
 admission among the best Poets ; and yet think it a lit- 
 tle below me, to be ranked with the very worst. Nee 
 us sum, nee inscribo praxitelem. I am content to 
 «alk, if I may be allowed, in the *middle way ; where 
 tha safest walking is, and where I shall be sure to find 
 Virtu B ; than whom, I desire no better company. 
 
 DAVIDIES. 
 
 • >. Medio Virtu*. Medio Tutlss'mus ibis.« 
 
DAVIDEIS, 
 
 BOOK I. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I sing the life of David, Israel's King ! 
 Assist, thou sacred pow'r, who did'st him bring* 
 From the sheepfold and set him on the throne ;, 
 Thee I invoke, on thee rely alone. 
 Breathe on my muse ; and till her slender quill 
 With thy refreshing dews from Hermon-hili : 
 That what she sings may turn unto thy praise, 
 And to thy name may lasting trophies raise. 
 
 AFTER King Saul had (by the sin he wrought. 
 In Amalek) divine displeasure brought 
 Upon himself and so the Lord provok'd 
 (Though his offence he with religion cloak'd) 
 That God of his promotion did repent, 
 And, in decree, the kingdom from him rent ; 
 Whilst the good prophet, on his mournful string, 
 Bewail'd the destin'd downfal of the king : 
 God to him did his sacred herald call 
 (Sam'l, by whom he had anointed Saul) 
 And said, how long for Saul do'st mean to mourn * 
 lip, quickly fill with sacred cil thy horn ; 
 To Bethlernitish Jesse, I intend 
 Thee, on a special errand strait to send ; 
 Far I, among his sons, provided have 
 A King, who shall my people rule and save. 
 Though to the prophet it was fully known, 
 God had Saul deteimin'd to dethrone, 
 
 And 
 
a DAVIDEIS. Book I. 
 
 And raise another (for himself did bring 
 
 Fromtj-od th' unwelcome sentence to .the king : 
 
 Yet did this dang'rous errand him surprise ; 
 
 Ar.i, smit with fear, how can I go ! lie cries, 
 
 If jealous Saul should of the bus'ness hear, 
 
 My head must pay for mine offence, I fear. 
 
 The Lord, a gracious master, fully knew 
 
 The prophet's heart was firm, upright and trie , 
 
 And that his fear from fraility did arise, 
 
 A fair expedient for him did devise. 
 
 Go, go, said he, an heifer with thee take j 
 
 And say,. I come a sacrifice to make 
 
 Unto the Lord : Call Jesse thereunto ;. 
 
 And I will then direct thee what to do.. 
 
 Go, entertain no fear, but fear of me, 
 
 And him anoint, whom I shall shew to thee. 
 
 Away went Samuel. And to Bethl'em come, 
 Conven'd the elders of the place ; on whom 
 A trembling fell, a dreadful pannick Fear, 
 Lest some great ill had drawn the prophet there : 
 Wherefore they ask'd him, if he came in peace ? 
 He answ'ring yes ; their fears did quickly cease. 
 He told them then, He came to hold a feast 
 Unto the Lord (that love might be encreas'd 
 Among them.) Bid them haste and sanctify 
 Themselves, that to the feast they might draw nigh, 
 
 Then unto Jesse's house the prophet went, 
 Upon his special errand most intent. 
 Amongst his sons when Eliab he espy'd, 
 This must be he, within himself he cry'd ; 
 
 Eliab was eldest, stout and tall, 
 A fit successor, he might think, for Saul » 
 He therefore said, surely the Lord's anointetL 
 Is now before him : This hath he appointed. 
 
 But God thus check'd him. Look not at the fact; 
 Nor outward stature ; but the inward grace. 
 I *iew not man, like -nan ; th' external pail 
 t$£ looks upon j but I regard the heart. 
 
Book I. DAVIDEIS. » 
 
 The prophet, thus instructed, now no more 
 Consults weak reason, as he did before i 
 But when old Jesse had before him set 
 Sev'n of his sons, all proper persons ; yet 
 The prophet, to his Guide now keeping close, 
 Told him, the Lord had chosen none of those. 
 
 Sure these are not they all, the prophet cry'd ; 
 No, one there still remains, old Jess' reply'd, 
 My youngest son, my shepherd's place he fills, 
 And tends his fleecy charge on distant hills. 
 Send, fetch him, said the prophet quickly home, 
 For we will not sit down until he come. 
 
 A speedy messenger for David flies, 
 And brings the sprightly youth before their eyes ; 
 A rosy bloom adorn'd his comely face, 
 Sweet to behold, and manly with a grace : 
 Before the prophet Jesse makes him stand, 
 The prophet soon receiv'd the Lord's command ; 
 Arise, anoint the youth, for this is he : 
 And Samuel straight approach'd, with bended need, 
 Assum'd his horn, and on young David's head 
 The consecrating oil did freely shed. 
 From that day forward, upon David came 
 The spirit of the Lord ; which might proclaim, . 
 To well-discerning eyes, his un&ioti ; as 
 Of Saul's rejection a sure Token 'twas, 
 That the good spirit did from him depart,. 
 And to an evil spirit left his heart. 
 
 This evil spirit from the Lord is said 
 On Saul to come ; and it such trouble made 
 To Saul, and all his servants ; that they thought 
 The best expedient wae, there should be sought 
 
 -iklful man, who on his harp might pi 
 And drive that spirit, for the time sway. 
 This they propose. Ke shews a ready mind 
 To try it ; bids them such an harper find. 
 One mentioned David : whom he thus set forth, 
 »g player, and a man of worth ; 
 
 Valiant 
 
% DAVIDEIS. Book I 
 
 Valiant and wise ; a comely person ; one 
 To whom the Lord had special favour shown. 
 
 This pleased Saul ; to Jesse strait he sent 
 To fetch young David ; David quickly went. 
 A tender kid the chearful youth did bring, 
 With bread, and wine, a present for the king. 
 
 His office is assigned him, to stand 
 Before the king ; and with a skilful hand, 
 When Saul was troubled, on his harp to play, 
 And when he play'd, the spirit was drove away. 
 
 This made him dear to Saul. Saul quickly found 
 The benefit, which did to him redound 
 From the sweet harper's music. For the sake 
 Whereof, he did htm armour-bearer make. 
 A martial office 'twas, to bear the shield 
 Of Saul, when he should march into the field. 
 Which shews, he found the ycuth as well could wield 
 His arms (a lance, or spear, and massy shield) . 
 And thereby, if occasion were, defend 
 His person, and in need, due succour lend ■: 
 As softly strike upon the tuneful string j 
 And by harmonious lays relieve the king. 
 Unwilling therefore, David should return, 
 Lest he his absence might have cause to mourn, 
 Ke sent again to Jesse, to request 
 That, with his leave, he might be longer blest 
 With David's service ; that he might be freed 
 From his affliction ; Jesse soon agreed. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 w 
 
 HILE Saul yet reign'd (altho'by God rejected, 
 Because lie had the Lord's command neglecled) 
 bold Philistines, with a mighty host, 
 [vlade an invasion upon JfrdaVs Coast. 
 Whom to repel (when Saul the danger knew) 
 The men of Isrfel he together drew. 
 
Bock I. DAVIDEIS. 5 
 
 Upon two hills the war-like camps were seen, 
 A valley lying in the midst between. 
 Each army standing in Battalia rang'd, 
 Before a blow on either side was changed ; 
 From the Philistine camp, a champion bold, 
 Came proudly daring, dreadful to behold. 
 Upon his scowling brow sat fuming wrath ; 
 His name Goliah ; and his City, Gath. 
 In height he was six cubits and a span : 
 In truth a monster, rather than a man. 
 He on his head did a brazen helmet wear, 
 Too great for any head, but his, to bear. 
 And in a coat of mail he was' array'd, 
 That of fine brass, five thousand Shekles weigh'd, 
 His shoulders did a brazen target bear, 
 And on his legs he greaves of brass did wear. 
 The staff too of his spear full well might seem, 
 for bigness to have been a weaver's beam. 
 The head, whereof alone ('tis strange to say) 
 Six hundred shekles did of iron weigh. 
 Before him went his squire, who bore his shield ; 
 Too huge for any, but himself to wield. 
 
 Advancing forward tow'rds the camp of Saul, 
 To Israel's armies he aloud did call ; 
 And to this purpose spake : " What need ye try 
 " The fortune of a battle ? Am not I 
 " A Philistine ? You, servants unto Saul ? 
 u Choose you a man, the stoutest of you all ; 
 " If he be able me, in fight to slay, 
 " Then we henceforth, will your commands obey : 
 " But if, in single combat, I prevail, 
 " And kill him ; you to serve us shall not fail. 
 *' Come shew your courage ; let it now appear 
 * Ye have, at least, one man, that's void of fear , 
 " All Israel's armies I, this day defy : 
 "- Give me a man, that may my prowess try." 
 tus forty days together did he brave 
 litis j yet none an answer gave. 
 
 For 
 
■* DAVIDEIS. Book L 
 
 For Saul himself was dreadfully afraid ; 
 And the whole host of Israel sore dismay'd 
 
 While thus this son of earth did proudly vaunt, 
 And with his looks, an host of Hebrews daunt, 
 It so fell out, or rather Gcd so wrought, 
 That little David to the camp was brought : 
 David, old Jesse's son, the Ephrathite, 
 Fitter in shew, to follow sheep, than fight. 
 
 Sev'n other sons had Jesse : eight in all, 
 The eldest three were serving under Saul. 
 To see how well they far'd and how things went, 
 The good old man, the youngest, David, sent, 
 Not empty handed. David early rose, 
 And to the camp, with victuals, laded goes : 
 Yet not without providing one to keep, 
 'Til he return'd, his father's flock of sheep. 
 
 Just as the host, to fight was going out, 
 And, for the signal, did to battle shout ; 
 Came David to the trench ; with haste he ran 
 To find his brethren, e'er the fight began. 
 And, as with them he talking stood, anon 
 Came forth the Philistine bold champion, 
 ICridos'd in brass ; and, with an hideous cry, 
 Denounc'd his challenge then, as formerly. 
 At Sight of whom, a sight that carried dread, 
 The men of Israel to their trenches fled. 
 
 No sooner heard young David the defy, 
 But brave disdain did sparkle in his eye, 
 His mettle rose, his breast with courage swell'd, 
 He scarce himself, from falling on with-held. 
 That spirit which, from God, upon him came 
 At his anointing, now doth more inflame 
 His heart with holy zeal ; and doth him bear 
 Above the sense of danger, and of fear. 
 He could/net brook, that one, uncircumcis'd, 
 Defying Israel, should go unchastis'd. 
 He talk'd with one ; he turn'd him to another, 
 (Not daunted with the chidings of his brother) 
 
 Hi 
 
Book L DAVIDEISr. 
 
 He let them, both by word and gesture, knew, 
 He durst against the great Goliah go. 
 
 The rumour of him reach'd the royal tent, 
 And. from the king a messenger was sent,"" 
 To bring him to him. In he nimbly stept, 
 And said O king, the challenge I accept. 
 Let no man's courage fail ; for in the might. 
 Of God, I will with this Philistine fight. 
 
 Alas ! said Saul (when he observ'd the lad, 
 A shepherd-swain, all in sheep's russet clad) 
 To fight with him thou art too weak by far, 
 Thou but a youth, and he a man of war. 
 Cast fear away, O king, the youth leply'd, 
 He's strong who has th' Almighty on his side. 
 I fear the God of Isr'el, and have found, 
 Young tho' I am, his strength, in need abound. 
 Thy servant slew a lion, and a bear, 
 That from my father's flock a lamb did, tear. 
 And since this Philistine hath, in hie pride, 
 The armies of the living God deiVd ; 
 Th' uncircumcised .wretch no more shall be, 
 Than was the lion or the bear to me. 
 The Lord, who from the bear's and lion's paw 
 Did me preserve, because I lov'd his law ; 
 Will, I believe, as in his fear I stand, 
 Preserve me safe from that great giant's hand. 
 
 The king amaz'd, yet gla .) withal to find, 
 In such a strait, so well resolv'd a mind, 
 Gives his consent, and prays the Lord to bless 
 His little combatant with great success. 
 Himself, with his own armour, David arms, 
 To render him the more secure from harms. 
 Upon his head an helmet he doth put 
 Ot massy brass, thro' which no sword could cut 
 i loads him also with a cojit of mail, 
 ch, having oft been try'd, did never fail. 
 On thic array, his sword did David gird, 
 
 then essay'd to go ; but when he stirr'd, 
 B 
 
8 DAVIDEIS. Book I. 
 
 oo unwieldy was, he found, to move ; 
 Nor durst he fight in arms he did not prove. 
 Saul's armour, therefore, David did refuse, 
 Who fights for God, must not man's weapons use. 
 Saul's armour, therefore, leaving in his tent, 
 He took his trusty staff, and out he went, 
 His sling in t'other hand ; and, as he goes, 
 He five smooth stones out of the Valley, chose, 
 Opens his scrip, and puts the stones therein ; 
 And then draws near unto the Philistine. 
 
 The giant rolling round his staring eyes, 
 At length the little Hebrew coming spies ; 
 At win m his haughty breast with scorn did swell, 
 And with such words as these he en him fell : 
 
 " Am I dog, thou despicable boy, 
 "■ That thou attempts thus with staves t'annoy ! 
 " Con e hither, sirrah, and thy £esh, for meat, 
 *} I'll give unto the fowls, and Leasts to eat." 
 
 [iis gods (what could he mention worse !) 
 He belches out an execrable curse, 
 
 as if he meant the vale to shake, 
 , ause the savage beasts themselves to quake. 
 u he had ended David did begin, 
 .red thus, the haughty Philistine 
 " Ti-a com'st to me wan frv-.-ord, and shield, and 
 nne in the name and fear [ 
 I, tKe Lord of "hosts, by thee defy'd, 
 FsVeJ, to chastise thy pride. 
 ik This day, I trust, into my hand he'll give 
 " Thy scver'd head ; no longer shalt thou live, 
 " Of all your host, the carcases this day, 
 
 the fowls and lx ists be m ide a prey ; 
 i all, who on the spacious earth do dwell, 
 ;: iere is a ( ' sraels 
 k.^ bly it shall appear, 
 
 . • Lord doth s . 
 . 
 ito oar hai 
 
'J 
 
 Book I. DAVIDEI3. 
 
 u ited youth. And at tliat word 
 TK' enraged giant was go throughly stirr'd, 
 That forth he step'd, a. 
 With direful threats, to David he drew near. 
 
 neet him David still advanc'd as fast, 
 And from his sling, a stone he swiftly cast, 
 
 rightly aim'd, and with a force so strong, 
 It picrc'd his Bi 
 
 Prostrate he sprawling lay, the bruised earth 
 Receiv'd with trembling, her gigantic birth. 
 No sooner David this au. pies, 
 
 But o'er the vale, he, like the lightening fli 
 While streteh'd upon the ground the monst 
 Like some great mole of earth, or bank of clay, 
 Trie nimble victor, laying by his s!in~, 
 Did on his massy shoulders lightly spring, 
 Where standing, forth the giant's sword he dn 
 A:d therewith did his neck asunder hew. 
 
 Thus with a sling a. id stone did David sn 
 And slay Goliah, in a single fight. 
 O dext'rous Slingcr, who the prize might win 
 From the * left handed sens of Benjamin 1 
 Nay rather let the praise to him alone 
 Ascribed be, who guided hand and stone ! 
 
 The challenge answer'd thus, the conquest won, 
 In sight of both the armies looking on ; 
 
 monster's head, still reeking in its gore, 
 iutnph then, victorious David bore. 
 Eiim thus returning, captain Abner meets 4 , 
 •■-aces and afle&ion? itely greets : 
 Is his fearless valour to the sky, 
 .^ratulateG his happy victory. 
 By him conducled to the royal tent, 
 ?aul he doth Goliah's Head present, 
 while the Philistines^ their champion d 
 tor struck, in great disorder fled. 
 
 Thv 
 * Judges xx, 16. 
 
10 DAVIDEIS. Booic I. 
 
 The Hebrews, shouting, eagerly pursue, 
 And of them kill'd and wounded not a few. 
 Thus the proud Philistines, the Lord did quell, 
 And wrought deliverance for his Israel. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 ^\ Son had Saul whose name was Jonathan, 
 J~ JL A brave young prince, and a courageous man- 
 He present was, when David to the king 
 The trophy of his victory did bring : 
 And well observing David's speech and meia 
 Le to which before he'd scarcely seen) 
 Such love to David touch'd his princely heart, 
 It soon produc'd in him an equal part ; 
 A noble Frieneship hence between them grew, 
 Aral which was most affected, neither knew. 
 
 ;i covenant between them pass'd, 
 A friendship, that beyond the grave should last. 
 The noble Prince did of his robe divest 
 Himself, and David to accept it press'd. 
 His garments he on David did bestow ; 
 Ev'n to his sword, his girdle and his bow. 
 Vh'ch presents David did, with thanks accept ; 
 Pledges of friendship, to be firmly kept. 
 Id high esteem, and favour with the king, 
 ions victory did David bring. 
 tier now the shepherd is become, 
 - him not permitting to go home. 
 anc'd he is unto an high degree 
 Of honour ; none so great with Saul, as he. 
 Over the men of war, the king him set, 
 Wherein his wise behaviour did him get 
 The love of all the people, and of all 
 The courtiers too : A thing doth rarely fall, 
 v honours on him wait ; and, fpr a while, 
 Indulgent fortune doth upon him smile. 
 
Book I. DAVIDEIS. H 
 
 In him both court and country take delight : , 
 At once the king's and people's favourite. 
 
 But Oh ! how slippery are princes courts, 
 Where fickle fortune with poor mortals sports ! 
 And, by alluring- baits, doth them entice 
 To trust themselves upon the glazed ice : 
 Then, on a sudden, e'er they are aware, 
 Trips up their heels, and leaves them grov'ling there. 
 The Wheel, where on she doth her creatures raise, 
 Is in continual motion, never stays, 
 But always whirls about : Who sit at top 
 To-day, to-morrow, to the bottom drop. 
 
 How ticklish is a favourite's estate, 
 Who must upon another's humour wait : 
 And, when he apprehends he stands most fast, 
 Is puffed down, with an inconstant blast ! 
 If he the prince's creature seems to be, 
 He hardly 'scapes the peoples obliquy ; 
 All their mishaps to his account they score, 
 And lay their disappointments at his door. 
 If in the peoples Favour he appears, 
 The prince then is, or seems to be in : ; ~ 
 And that too popular he may not grow, 
 Seeks all occasions how to lay him low. 
 So David found. The people sing his piaise : 
 And that in worthless Saul, doth envy raise. 
 
 It so fell out that, now the coasts were clear 
 From Philistines, and peoples minds from fear ;. 
 The Hebrew dames, from all the cities round, 
 With instruments of most melodious so 
 Came tripping out ; and, all along the '*\i.\ r , 
 Upon the well tun'd strings, did sweetly play. 
 
 ir fingers play'd, their nimble feet did danca, 
 For joy of their much wish'd deliverance. 
 
 Together thus they come, to meet the king ; 
 And, in his ear 1 , this epinicion sing : ' 
 
 hath (of enemies) his thousands slain 
 David his ten thousands] with disdain. 
 
 B2 ths 
 
12 DAVIDEIS. Book I 
 
 The king this heard. It made his choler rise, 
 And his displeasure sparkled in his eyes. 
 
 While thus the women in their tuneful choir, 
 Him faintly praise, and David ten times more, 
 The evil spirit, an evenom'd dart 
 Let fly, and lodg'd it in his thoughtful heart : 
 The poison wrought, and in a trice possess'd, 
 With Saul tormenting jealousies, his breast. 
 Suspicion and distrust, in him it bred, 
 And with surmisings fill'd his troubled head. 
 
 swelPd, and champ't ; at length his discontent 
 Did thus itself, in angry accents, vent : 
 To David they ascribed have, said he, 
 Ten thousands : And but thousands unto me. 
 Thus they prefer my vassal me before : 
 And, but the kingdom, what can he have more ? 
 
 Hen^e Saul on David kept an evil eye, 
 And to have slain him, divers times did try ; 
 Ev'n while good David on his harp did play. 
 Th' affliction of his spirit to allay. 
 But David's God (who had king Saul rejected, 
 chosen David) David still protected. 
 
 When Saul perceiv'd (for even wicked men 
 Hive bights of God's outgoings, now and then) 
 That God did prosper David, and did move 
 The hearts of all the people him to love ; 
 3 [e daily grew of David more afraid, 
 And studied how he might be best betray'd. 
 
 Two daughters had king Saul. A stately dame 
 The elder was, and Merab was her name. 
 \ topping lady she, whose lofty look 
 
 « d that she nothing that was low could breok. 
 Commanding pow'r reign'd in her sparkling eye, 
 And on her brow sat awful majesty. 
 A spirightly vigour fill'd her manly face, 
 Which yet was not without a pleasing grace. 
 And had her breast been hid, she might have go 
 \ 'g the warriors, for ?,n amazon. 
 
Sook I. DAVIDEI3. IS 
 
 So look'd Penthesilea when she came 
 To Priam's succour. Such another dame 
 Was (She- who durst engage in single fight 
 With Theseus) the warlike Hip polite. 
 
 Unlike hereself, a sister Merab had 
 The joy and grief of many a noble lad) 
 Fair Michal she was call'd, whose lovely face 
 No feature wanted that could add a grr.ve. 
 Her body delicate. Wherein enshrin'd, 
 As in its temple, dwelt a virtuous mind* 
 Engaging sweetness beamed from her eye, 
 And on her cheek sat maiden modesty. 
 Her courteous mein gave proof to all, that sire 
 From pride, and haughtiness of mind, was free. 
 For of the meanest she would notice take, > 
 Her whole converse humility bespake. 
 So graceful was her gesture, it did move, 
 At once, beholders to admire and love. 
 
 These were Saul's daughters. And by these the king 
 Ruin on David did design to bring. 
 By one cf these he hoped to prevail, 
 If all his other stratagems should fail. 
 One of these princesses had promis'd been, 
 To whosoe'er should kill the Philistine. 
 Which Da. id having done, might justly claim 
 One ; but the king had power, which to name. 
 He therefore Merab first assign'd to be 
 The guerdon of young David's victory ; 
 But when the time approach'd, he chang'd his mird, 
 And her unto another's bed cor.sign'd. 
 
 But MichaPs, lovely Michal 's virgin love, 
 In strong desires did unto David move. 
 This so rejoie'd her envious father's ear, 
 He said, I'll give her to him for a snare. 
 
 His servants he instructed how to draw 
 David to yield to be his son-in-law. 
 They tell him what delight in him the king 
 Did take ; what honour it to him would bring 1 , 
 
 To 
 
14 DAVIDEIS. Book I. 
 
 To be unto his sovereign ally'd ; 
 Besides th* enjoyment of so fair a bride. 
 
 When he himself excus'd, upon the score 
 His Family was. low : himself too poor j 
 Out of his slender fortunes to advance 
 J30 large a dowry as the king, perchance, 
 Might look to have (for women then were thought 
 it seems, of worth sufficient to be bought.) 
 Th' instructed courtiers presently reply'd, 
 The king no dowry doth desire, beside 
 An hundred fore-skins of his enemies 
 The Philistines : that dowry will suffice. 
 
 This was the snare the treach'rous king did lay 
 His well deserving David to betray. 
 Ui:gratef|Lprince ! though David had him freed 
 From danger when he made Geliah bleed : 
 Yet on set purpose he this dowry chose, 
 That he to danger David might expose, 
 He knew the valiant youth's advent'roua mind 
 The greatest hazards never had declin'd. 
 And, by porposing this, he did intend 
 Davicj to bring to an untimely end. 
 
 'Tws not ambition to be son-in-law 
 Unto a king, did bumble David draw. 
 Michal's fresh beauty and affection move 
 In youthful David like returns of love. 
 
 -.-hen he heard what dowry Saul proposed, 
 He gladly with the proposition clos'd. 
 The maid lie lik'd (as who indeed could choose) 
 The terms' he lik'd. What was there to refuse ? 
 For though he sh raid net Michal thereby gain, 
 He gladly would the Phi ave slain. 
 
 Up, with his men, he in the morning gets, 
 .And on the Philistines so briskly sets ; 
 That tho' with all the speed they could, they fled. 
 He laid at least two hundred of them dead : 
 Whose Forskins he unto the Court did bring, 
 And gave a double dowry to the king. 
 
 Ill 
 
Book I. DAVIBEIS. 15 
 
 111 pleas'd was Saul, that what he did projeft 
 For Davids ruin, wrought not that effecl. 
 Had David's head been lifeless brought, that sight 
 Would to his eyes have yielded more delight. 
 Yet, since it would not further his design, 
 To manifest displeasure, and repine ; 
 He held it best, his promise good to make ; 
 And David for his son-in-law to take. 
 Concealing therefore, for a little while, 
 His hatred under a dissembled smile, 
 He of true gladness made a feigned show, 
 And Michal upon David did bestow* 
 The marriage rites perform'd, the shepherd's led, 
 With nuptial songs, to princess Michal' s bed ; 
 Where leaving them in amorous embraces, 
 My muse their father's machinations traces. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 NOT fully were the princely Nuptials o'er, 
 Not fully bride and bridegroom joy'd before 
 Invidious fame, by a confirm'd report, 
 Disturb'd the pleasures of the peaceful court. 
 
 The Philistines, again, had took the field : 
 The viol now must to the clarion J 
 David to ii-rld mtWt go : the truirpet eecmdsj 
 To bid the Philistines prepare for wo.i 
 Saul's hope revives, that t4ome Philistine spear 
 Will rid him both of David and hi°> fear : 
 To loose a battle would not trouble Saul,- 
 So he might lose his son-in-law withal. 
 But, to his trouble, David from the war 
 Return'd, with conquest, and without a scar. 
 And, to torment him more, each enter] 
 Rais'd David higher in the peoples e- 
 
 'Till now, a secret 'hone restrained S' 
 That David bv the Philistines weul«Lii 
 
 IVui 
 
26 DAVIDEIS. Book I. 
 
 But hating, by repeated trials, found 
 That David still return'd, without a wound, 
 Grown desp'rate, and, impatient of delay, 
 He bids his son, and servants, David slay. 
 
 Surpris'd, the courtiers on each other gaze, 
 As men whom sudden horror doth amaze ; 
 undertakes the work : all silent ttand, 
 i with abhorrence of the king's command. 
 They could not, without much reluclar.ee, hear 
 death decreed, who was to them so dear. 
 could the king a man amongst them gain, 
 That would with David's blood a finger stain. 
 
 But Jonathan, whose deeper rooted love 
 Did, with a stronger spring to David move, 
 Was not content, barely to hold his hand, 
 From executing that unjust command : 
 Unless his utmost pow'r he also bent, 
 His brother David's ruin to prevent. 
 
 Leaving his father, therefore out he goes, 
 's wicked counsels to disclose 
 Tc D.i.i. . But when unto him he came, 
 Ah ! How confus'd he was, 'twixt grief and sha:.-*- 
 Ke j.iev'cl to find his friend so near death's jaws, 
 h'd to think his father was the cause. 
 made him loth his father's fault to speak, 
 But friendship prompted the design to break. 
 
 Iship prevail'd. And with a down-cast eye 
 He made him understand the danger nigh. 
 
 Not more was David troubled, when he heard 
 What he before suspe&ed not, nor fcar'd : 
 Than over-joy'd in Jonathan to find 
 So true a . p, and so brave a mind. 
 
 e most endearing terms he shew'd 
 and gratitude. 
 The- , they concert 
 
 Howthcy.i nding storm avei* 
 
 agreed, 1 
 
 had try'd 
 
 Hi, 
 
Book I. DAVIDEIS. 17 
 
 His father's temper ; that he so might find, 
 How deep th' offence was rooted in his mind. 
 
 They part, and David doth himself withdraw. 
 To court goes Jonathan. With filial awe, 
 And humble stile, he David's cause doth plead ; 
 And with his father thus doth intercede. 
 
 " Let not the king against his servant sin, 
 " Whose works to thee-wards ever good have been. 
 " His life thou know'st, he in his hand did put 4 
 " And great Goliah's head he off did cut, 
 " The monstrous Philistine by David fell. 
 " A great salvation to all Israel, 
 " The Lord by him did work. Thou didst it see ; 
 *' And did therein rejoice, as well as we. 
 4< Why wilt thou David slay without a cause, 
 •' who is in aft things subject to thy laws ? 
 ■**■ O draw not on thyself the heavy guilt, 
 " That waits on guiltless blood unjustly spilt ! 
 " Pardon, most honour'd father, I beseech, 
 " My boldness, and the freedom of my speech. 
 " It is for David that I humbly sue, 
 " David, who doth thine enemies subdue. 
 " Let me prevail ; thine anger pray with-draw 
 -" From both my brother, and thy son-in-h.-. - 
 
 So well did Jonathan discharge his part, 
 So well he us'd the oratorian art, 
 That he prevail' d : the king revers'd his doom : 
 The father by the son Was overcome. 
 And that there might no ground for fear remain, 
 He gave his oath, David should net be skirt. 
 On which assurance Jonathan d-d !. 
 David, to wait again upon the king. 
 •Hi j place in court he takes ; and for a space, 
 fcinds, as formerly, in seeming grace, 
 it was not long before the cursed root 
 
 did again begin to shoot : 
 . is Saul a fresh occasion took, 
 in evil e . c to look. 
 
IS DAVIDEIS. Book % 
 
 The restless Philistines the land again 
 Invaded had. Whom David to restrain 
 His men led forth : and- with.' such fury flew 
 Upon them, that he their main body slew. 
 Great was the slaughter his revengeful blade 
 Upon the Philistines, at that time, made : 
 That had not some secur'd themselve by flight, 
 The host of Philistines had pcrish'd quite. 
 
 So great a victory, 'twas thought by all, 
 Would have endeared David unto Saul : 
 And 'twas but reasonable to expect, 
 So good a cause should yield a good eflfeft. 
 But, on the other hand,- he David more 
 Maligned now, than e'er he did before. 
 He saw, that David daily more became 
 The people's darling : and he thought his aim 
 Was at the crown. He let in a surmise, 
 That David, one day, would against him rise. 
 He recollected what the prophet said 
 Of his rejection. And he was afraid, 
 David would prove that Neighbour* unto whom 
 The kingdom, rent from him, in time should come- 
 lie 63W, that God did eminently bless 
 All David's undertakings with success* 
 That David was unto the people dear, 
 He also saw ; and that encreas'd his fear. 
 He thought withal, that David did improve, 
 By all the arts he could, the peoples love ; 
 That, having gain'd a pow'rful interest, 
 He might by force, the scepter from him wrest. 
 These wrestless workings of his troubled head, 
 Perplexing thoughts, and terrors in him bred. 
 
 gth he was with apprehensions hll'd, 
 That h If* by David should be kill'd. 
 
 How miserable is the state of those 
 Whom blind suspicion doth to fear expose ! 
 
 Deat 
 
 i Sam. xv. 2$. 
 
Book I. DxWIDEIS. 19 
 
 Death hatli less terror in it. Who can fi-id 
 A torment equal to a jealous mind ! 
 
 When Saul this apprehension in had let, 
 His passions all were m a ferment set ; 
 Fear, anger, envy, madness, vengeful hate 
 Did boil together, and incorporate 
 In his foul breast ; yet so, that bloodless fear 
 Did, in his face, predominant appear, 
 Those other passions ready were t'invent 
 New kinds of tortures, David to torment : 
 But fear o'er-rul'd, insinuating he, 
 By David's death, himself from death might free. 
 And that it must be by a sudden s:rd*ke, 
 Lest David should the peoples help invoke, 
 And they by force him rescue. Thus again 
 Is guiltless David destin'd to be slain, 
 By secret sentence in the king's own heart, 
 Which he resolv'd he would to none impart. 
 For he no more would trust to friend, or foe : 
 But his own hand should -; 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 WHEN thus the king had D. ign'd, 
 
 The faithful chief, whose uncorrupted n 
 Was never tainted with disloyal stain, 
 Returned from battle to the com I 
 And, as a proof of victory did brii 
 Ot spoils, a chosen present to the king. 
 7 easily is innocence betray'd, 
 - i under shews of kindness, snares are 1 
 apprehension had the guiltless youth 
 Of danger ; arm'd with probity and tr 
 tich an inoffensive mind did bear, 
 
 from all suspicious fear - 
 V itti confidence unto the king he 
 • 
 
SO DAVlDEIS. Book I. 
 
 And doth, in order, unto him relate 
 The battle, and his army's present state. 
 
 The crafty king too, at the first congress 
 No token of displeasure did express. 
 But, under outside kindness, inward hate 
 Concealing, did a fitter season wait 
 To execute his purpose ; that the blow 
 Might be secure, which should his anger show. 
 
 Nor did he long for an occasion wait, 
 But, in a while, as in his house he sate j 
 The evil spirit from the Lord (for God 
 Makes use of evil spirits, as a rod) 
 Upon him came ; his jav'lin in his hand, 
 And David, playing en his harp, did stand 
 Before him, with refreshing tunes t' allay 
 His grief, and the evil spirit drive away. 
 
 So kind an office, sure, one might have thought, 
 Upon the worst of natures would have wrought ; 
 And hinder'd even the most savage mind, 
 From perpetrating what he had design'd 
 But Saul, now hard'ned to a brutish rage, 
 Beyond the force of harmony t' asswage, 
 Thinking he now had sure advantage got 
 To strike the stroke, when David ey'd him not. 
 His jav'lin at him, with such fury, cast, 
 That, had it hit, that hour had been his last. 
 But who the kingdom unto David gave, 
 
 ,v from threat' ned danger save. 
 rftet'ling of Saul's garment (when on high 
 ..Yd his arm. to let the jav'lin fly) 
 [t David look, and nimbly slip aside, 
 While the sharp pointed shaft did by him glide ; 
 .'. !., whirling by, with such a force did fall, 
 t fast it 3tuck upon the adverse wall. 
 'Twas time for David warning now to take, 
 for his safety due provision make. 
 q now he could no longer trust, 
 Y itl: ere, that neither grateful was, nor just, • 
 
 Out 
 
 4 
 
Book i. DAYIDE1S. 21 
 
 One, whom no services could render kind : 
 Nor the most solemn promises could bind. 
 One, who, to gratify his groundless hate, 
 Stuck not his sacred oath to violate. 
 With such an one it was not safe to stay : 
 While therefore safe he was, he went away. 
 The treach'rous court he speedily forsook, 
 And to his private house himself betook, 
 His faithful wife acquainting with the case, 
 Her father's falsehood, and his own disgrace. 
 
 '-lean while, the wrathful king (whose hot desire 
 Of David's death, had set him all on fire). 
 Vex'd that his rust'ling robe that warning gave 
 To David, from the stroke himself to save ; 
 And fearing lest, if now he got away, 
 He might the wrong revenge another day : 
 All in a rage, he certain of his guard 
 (Whose surly looks bespake their natures hard) 
 Unto him call'd ; and charg'd them to repair 
 Forthwith to David's house, and slay him "here. 
 
 With down-cast looks th^ troubled guards receive 
 The unexpected charge. The court they leave ; 
 And lest they should, for backwardness be check'd, 
 To David's house their heavy steps direct. 
 There make a stand, and set a private watch, 
 That David, stepping out, they might dispatch. 
 
 But loyal Michal, whose mistrustful eye 
 Had all the ways survey'd, did them descry ; 
 And told her husband, if he should remain 
 In's house till morning, he would then be slain : 
 Then thro' a lattice, did direct his eye 
 To the place where th' insidious guards did lie. 
 
 The sight of these, and sense for what th 
 Did his advent'rous courage so enfiame, 
 That had not Michal, weeping, on him h : 
 
 oldly had himself among them flung, 
 V :h sword in hand. But Michal's moving t - 
 listen to hst pressing fears, 
 
 Toeetfiei 
 
22 DAVIDEIS. Book I 
 
 Together thereupon they counsel take ; 
 What means are best his safe escape to make : 
 Love shews the way ; fair Michal doth propose ? 
 And David, won by her, doth therewith close. 
 : darkness had the place of light possess'd, 
 And drowsy sleep had mortals laid to rest ; 
 When through the sable clouds no star appear d 
 No warlike sound, no busy Noise was heard, 
 hal (who had all things ready got, 
 Needful to carry on the harmless plot) 
 g her dearest David eft embrae'd 
 (While he encircled, with his arms, her waist) 
 Did through a window, gently let him down ; 
 And softly said, live, David, for the crown. 
 May God thee keep, and bring the safe again 
 Unto thy Michal. He reply'd amen. 
 Then with a sigh, she did the window close* 
 Her sigh he echo'd ; and away he goes. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 N David, in a mournful plight, 
 
 ath tt covert of j ne flight ; 
 
 1 dwell 
 His SamueL 
 
 he to the pro] all 
 
 om Saul. 
 d sought, he doth relal 
 is own unhappy state. 
 The th David's cause be 
 
 not sink, or fail, 
 • in the Lord to trust, 
 .. rciful and just. 
 • shedi 
 . 
 
Book I. DAVIDEIS. I '23 
 
 By God's command ; that being so anointed, 
 
 He to the kingdom was by God appointed $ 
 
 Who through his troubles, would him still preserve 
 
 From hurt, if he from God did never swerve. t 
 
 Advis'd him therefore, not t© let in fear, 
 
 How great soe'er his perils might appear : 
 
 But trust in God, who never will forsake 
 
 The wrong'd, who him for their protestor take. 
 
 David thus strengthen'd ; he and Samuel 
 
 To Najoth go ; and there together dwell. 
 
 Mean while, with eager eyes, th' impatient king 
 Look'd every moment when his guards would bring 
 The head of David. In, at length they corne, 
 And tell him, David's sick a-bed at home. 
 For with that shift, when they the door drew nigh, 
 And ask'd for David, Michal put them by : 
 Having an image placed in his bed, 
 With goats-hair pillow laid, as 'twere his head. 
 
 With furrow'd brows, and countenance severe, 
 The disappointed king his guards did hear ; 
 With sharp reproaches blam'd their negligence, 
 And sent them back, with speed, to" bring him thence. 
 Go fetch him, bed and all, without delay, 
 Said he, that I myself the wretch may slay. 
 
 They go. But Oh ! the rage that in him burn'd, 
 And at his nostrils fum'd when they return'd, 
 And brought him word that, David being fled, 
 They found an image only in his bed. 
 How did he rage and storm ! incens'd the more 
 At this escape, than e'er he was before. 
 Inflam'd to think, that by a woman's wile, 
 His daughter Michal should him thus beguile, 
 His passion heighten'd, that his troops should let ' 
 His hated son have time away to get. 
 But that which most of all disturb'd his mind, 
 Was, that he David knew not where to find. 
 And fci-.l he would have fell, it might be fear'd, 
 D his guards, had he not timely heard 
 
 C 2 That 
 
m DAVIDEIS. Book I. 
 
 That David, in the dark, to Najoth slid ; 
 And there himself among the prophets hid. 
 Forthwith to Najoth Messengers he sent, 
 To fetch him thence ; away, with speed, they went. 
 But he.e, the Lord himself doth interpose, 
 To save his David from approaching foes : 
 For when they to the prophets school were come, 
 And saw the company of prophets ; some 
 Then prophesying, all the rest attent. 
 And Sam'el standing o'er, as president, 
 They cc aid not David touch : but on them all 
 Whq were, to apprehend him, sent by Saul, 
 A Spirit came from God ; arid they began 
 To prophesy, in order, man for man. 
 Thrice did this stubborn king this course repeat,"] 
 thrice did Gc:d his base intent defeat. 
 
 No sooner came his messengers among 
 
 The prophets, but prophetic motes they sung. 
 
 GalPd with these disappointments, tlr angry ki 
 
 (Whom envy, fear, and jealousy did sting) 
 
 Resolves in person he'ii to Najoth go ; 
 
 And once more try what he himself can do : 
 
 Forward he sets, and subt'liy, as he went, 
 
 Contriv'd how he might David circumvent. 
 e'er he got to Najoth, on him fell 
 
 A spirit from the Lord ; and he, as well 
 
 As they whom he before had sent, began 
 
 To ' . and prophesying ran 
 
 To Najoth, where, at sight of Samuel, 
 
 t stripping ofFhis clothes, he prostrate fell 
 
 Upon the ground ; and in that rueful plights 
 ■ naked all that day, and ail that night. 
 .. ice a proverbial speech it grew to be, 
 
 When in religious company we see, 
 
 An impious man affeft a saintly shew, 
 
 Is Saul among the pious prophets too ! 
 How admirable are the ways of God, 
 
 Whether his staff, he uses ; or his Rod 'I 
 
Book I, DAVIDEIS. 26 
 
 The first of these his fainting ones doth stay : 
 The last do them correct thai ran astray. 
 Who would not that resistless being fear, 
 Who eas'ly thus can, in a moment veer 
 Our fixt intent ? who would not to that hand 
 His will submit, that can all wills command I 
 
 How resolutely, in an head strong will, 
 Did Saul determine he would David kill i 
 How eagerly did he his will pursue, 
 His trembling hands in David's blood t' imbrue ! 
 What direful threat'nings did he vent, \vha 
 Would ao, could he again but David see ! 
 Yet, when he came where David was, we find 
 That awful pow'r his spirit strait -lid bind : 
 He could not David touch. No pow'r he had ; , 
 How bad soe'er his will was, to be bad. 
 But over-pow'r'd (though evil was his heart) 
 .He was constraint! to act the prophet's part. 
 He spake, and did as prophets us'd to do, 
 Who were inspired by the Lord thereto. 
 Small odds, perhaps, or none to outwai 
 Distinguish'd this wrong prophet fror 
 Each, probably, alike might a£l, and sgea] 
 And be alike regarded, by the weak, 
 The undiscerning croud, who seldom try 
 Beyond the outward ear, and outward eye. 
 Yet plain it is, that Saul was row no mere 
 By God regarded, than he was before. 
 He prophesied, when he was among 
 The prophets ; but his spirit slill was wro 
 
 One long before (who Balak taught to .. 
 A dang'rous stumbling-block in Israel's way) 
 A grand example is, that wicked men, 
 Against their wills may utter, now and ther, 
 Those sacred mysteries, which G- 
 Doth by his spirit, unto man mak 
 
26 DAVIDEIS. Book L 
 
 What glorious things did Beor's son* declare 
 Concerning Jacob's seed ? how precious are 
 The prophesies, wherein he did foretell 
 The beauty, strength, and state of Israel ! 
 What soul refreshing comforts do arise, 
 In pious minds, from those sweet prophecies ! 
 And well they may ; for God himself had put 
 Into the prophets' s mouth a word and shut 
 His divinations out ; whereby we know, 
 His speech did from the holy spirit flow. 
 
 Yet this, perhaps, of prophets was the worst, 
 Who, for advantage, would have Israel curs'd, 
 For which, how well soe'er he spake, he stands 
 Condemn'd upon record, with pub-lick brands. 
 Yet God, to shew his sov'reignly, doth choose, 
 {Sometimes, the tongues of such of these to use. 
 Who, though the truths they tell may be believ'd * 
 Yet are not they themselves to be received. 
 Though Balaam did of Jacob's f star declare, 
 The sword of Isr'el did not Balaam ^ spare : 
 Nor is it long e'er prophesying Saul 
 Will be oblig'd upon his sword to § fall. 
 
 May these examples lead us to beware 
 How we receive such (preach they ne'er so fair) 
 For gospel ministers. But let us rather 
 Observe (as he || of old) but who's their father ? 
 For men may glorious truths declare, we see, 
 Yet they the children of the devil be 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 WHILE Saul among the seers enraptur'd lay, 
 Depriv'd of pow'r to move a foot away % 
 Good David, who with rev'rence,. much admir'd 
 This gracious act of providence, retir'd ; 
 Iiest, when the fit was over, angry Saul 
 Should in displeasure, on the prophets fall. From 
 
 * Num. xxin. and xxiv. f Numb. xxiv. 17. $ Numb- 
 
 axxi, 8. § 1 Sam. xxxi. 4. Jj 1 Sam. x. a, 
 
Book I. DAVIDEIS. 27 
 
 From Najoth, therefore (having first advis'd 
 With rev'rend Sam'el, whom he highly priz'd) 
 lie, undiscern'd, withdrew, and straight did bend 
 His course to Jonathan, his faithful friend : 
 Into whose bosom he could freely vent 
 His sorrows and his hapless state lament. 
 
 What sin of mine has rais'd this cruel strife, 
 That I, said he, am hunted for my life ? 
 
 The gentle prince (whose truly noble breast 
 Was with a generous compassion blest) 
 His friend's complaint, his dangers and his fears,. 
 With close, but sorrowful, attention hears : 
 And quick returns this short, but kind reply. 
 Almighty God forbid ! thou shalt not die : 
 And strait endeavours, whatsoe'er he may, 
 His fears, with strong assurance, to allay. 
 He thought his father nothing would essay, 
 Without consulting him about the way ; 
 And thereby hop'd it in his pow'r would be, 
 In case of an attack his friend to free. 
 
 But David, whom experience now had taught, 
 That, both by force and fraud, his life was so i 
 Judg'd it not safe his person to expose, 
 On such uncertain, ticklish grounds as those : 
 H2 tqU in, 'Twas not unknown, 
 
 firm a frien4ship was 
 
 m . him whaJ 
 glit, perhaps, designedly coj 
 
 rom bin.; lest he should it n 
 Yet know, said he, thou has 
 
 e's but a single step 'twixt m ath% 
 
 [%h such an accent David spake ; 
 is deep it could not fail to make 
 . t friend. Hfi 
 a strong spring, new vigour took from the 
 lg, he said, from evil ni | be, 
 
 . from dane 
 
 W 
 
28 DAVIDEIS. Book I 
 
 Which that thou may'st, I'm ready here to do 
 Whate'er thou judgest may conduce thereto. 
 
 Then sitting down they mutual counsel take, 
 And this conclusion prudently they make, 
 That Jonathan, his father's mind once more, 
 At his return from Najoth, should explore : 
 And should, accordingly let David know, 
 (f Saul his death designed yet or no. 
 David, mean while, did, by agreement, slay 
 At Ezel-stone ( a mark that show'd the way) 
 Near which, in bushy covert he might lie 
 Safe, from the view of any passing by. 
 
 And now before their parting leave they took, 
 A sacred covenant a fresh they strook, 
 A during tie, confirm' d by solemn oath, 
 A bond inviolable on them both, 
 Which to their latest offspring should extend, 
 On either side, and never have an end : 
 By which astipulation they did bind 
 T ft Ives, to be unt6 each other kind, 
 TJ . Jonathan should faithfully report 
 To I -wid, how he found affairs at court . 
 And hould his utmost pow'r employ, to free 
 His friend from danger, if lie any see. 
 On t'other hand, that David (when the throne 
 Of Israel should come to be his own) 
 Should Jonathan, and all that from him spring, 
 Secure from danger, while himself is king, 
 I ? or Jonathan (whose deeply-peircing eye 
 On David's brow did marks of empire spy) 
 Was wo.it with confidence, his friend to tell, 
 That 1 be the king of Israel, 
 
 By Saul from Najoth was return'd, 
 
 With smoother brow. But in his breast still burn'd 
 Malignant hate : nor did he yet despair, 
 To compass David's death at unaware. 
 
 The new-moon now approach'd and therewithal 
 
 ul. 
 
 He 
 
Book L DAVIDEIS. 09 
 
 He made no doubt but at the sacred feast, 
 He should have zealous David for his guest. 
 For then it pleas'd him always to admit 
 David at table with himself to sit. 
 And then might hope, with more success to cast 
 His fatal spear, than when he threw it last. 
 
 The new-moon being come, and David's seat 
 Left empty when the king sat down to meat, 
 Two days together ; Saul began to doubt 
 It was design'd : and with an angry pout, 
 Why cometh not, said he, old Jesse's son 
 To meat, as he, in former times, hath done ? 
 Thus Saul to Jonathan : who, having ey'd 
 His father's angry countenance, reply'd, 
 Since thou art pleas'd the reason to demand 
 Of David's absence, please to understand, 
 That David unto Bethlehem is gone, 
 On urgent business (to return to anon) 
 A yearly sacrifice his brethren hold, 
 At this time there, (as he himself me told) 
 To which the family do all repair ; 
 And David too was summon'd to be there. 
 He therefore earnestly of me did crave 
 My leave to go, which readily I gave. 
 
 As from the Prince's lips these, words did fall, 
 A fire of rage enkindled was in Saul 
 Against his son, which forth,* in choler, break : 
 And with a furious accent, thus he spake : 
 
 " Thou son of the perverse rebellious woman 
 " (Whose head strong folly will be rul'd by no man) 
 " Too well I know, that Jesse's son and thee, 
 " To thy confusion, but too well agree ; 
 " Yet thou, till he's securely in his grave, 
 " No kingdom, no establishment can have. » 
 " Send therefore, fetch (e'er he further fly) 
 " Make no delay, for he shall surely die." 
 
 se words in such a thundering tone he spake, 
 -m'd to make the hall he sat in shake. 
 
 Griev'd 
 
30 DAVIDEIS. Book L 
 
 Griev'd way the princely Jonathan, to hear 
 A sentence so unjust, and so severe. 
 Small hopes he had ; yet could not choose but try 
 His father's stormy mind to pacify. 
 And to that purpose, in an humble tone, 
 Ask'd, why shall David die ? what hath he done ? 
 
 As supplying oil, on flaming fire cast, 
 Instead of quenching, doth augment the blast : 
 So Jonathan's soft words enkindled more 
 His wrathful father, than he was before 
 He- nothing said : too full he was to speak, 
 His stifling choler could not silence break : 
 'But snatching up, with furious haste his spear, 
 {Which at his hand, designedly stood near) 
 With such a force, at Jonathan he threw, 
 As mjre than words, his bloody mind did shew, 
 
 Altho' the prince the stroke did nimbly shuii, 
 Yet »va.; he greatly mov'd, at what was done. 
 Such rrc:;s indignity would stir a man 
 Of meaner spirits than was Jonathan ; 
 'Consid'ring that it was a public shame : 
 And m re, because it from a father came. 
 The harder too it was for him to bear, 
 Who was his father's and the kingdom's heir : 
 Himself long since adult ; and, which was more, 
 Had been his father's vice'roy just before. 
 All which together working in his breast, 
 Made this abuse uneasy to digest. 
 
 From table therefore he, in heat arose ; 
 And, breathing forth displeasure, out he goes. 
 
 to his apartment cloth retire, 
 To give free vent to this new kindled fire ; 
 Where falling on his couch, he doth bemoan 
 Much more his friend's condition than his c 
 fting what conccrn'd his late disgrace, 
 He doubted not, consid'ring men would place 
 All to his father's passion, and that he 
 Himself, his passion o'er, would troubled be. 
 
Book I. DAVIDEIS. 31 
 
 But ah ! his friend, his friend ! poor David's case 
 
 Did more affect him, than his own disgrace. 
 
 No longer now doth any thought remain 
 
 In Jonathan that David's fears were vain. 
 
 No clearer evidence he now doth need, 
 
 That David's death was by the king decreed. 
 
 This a£t of violence for David's sake, 
 
 Both clear'd his doubt, and made his heart to ake. 
 
 The tedious night in restless tossings spent, 
 Betwixt uneasy grief and discontent ; 
 As soon as e'er Aurora did disclose 
 The springing day, the faithful prince arose : 
 Both honour and affection did him spur ; 
 And e'er the lark was stirring, made him stir. 
 Honour reminds him, that his word he gave 
 To David : love said, thou must David save. 
 Which that he might, he to the fields doth go, 
 ( His page his quiver bearing, and his bow ; 
 Not knowing why :) No otherwise he went, 
 Than if, to recreate himself he meant. 
 
 When near the place, where Jesse's son did wait 
 The doubtful issue of his doleful fate, 
 His curvid bow, with sinew'd arm, he drew ; 
 And over David's head the arrows flew : 
 One flying shaft a" private token bore, 
 Agreed upon between themselves before ; 
 By which poor David understood too well, 
 What Jonathan unwilling was to tell. 
 
 The thoughtless page who nothing did suspects 
 With nimble speed the arrows did collect ; 
 And to his master bring, who did deliver 
 Unto the lad his unstrung bow and quiver 
 To carry home. Himself remain'd behind, 
 As if to walk alone he was inclin'd. 
 
 The youth now gone, and Jonathan alone, 
 Straight David issued forth, by Ezel-stone ; 
 And, falling to the ground ; with triple bend 
 odv, did salute his noble friend. 
 
 D Then 
 
52 DAVIDEIS. Book I. 
 
 Then casting amis about each other's neck, 
 Their pearly tears each other's breast bedeck. 
 They wept and kiss'd, they kiss'd and wept again, 
 Nor could they soon those chrystal floods restrain ; 
 Each kiss a fresh supply of tears did breed 
 In both their eyes, till David did exceed. 
 At length their covenant renew'd, they part, 
 Each kindly bearing back the others heart. 
 They part : and each doth his own path pursue, 
 With eyes reflex while either was in view. 
 
 THE EKD OF THE FIRST BOOR, 
 
 DAVIDEIS, 
 
DAVIDEIS, 
 
 BOOK II. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NOW travels David with a thoughtful mind, 
 Uncertain where a safe retreat to find : 
 For though, while prosp'rous his affairs did stand, 
 He friends and servants, many could command ; 
 Yet now, that frowns had wrinkled fortunes face, 
 He knew not where to find a resting place. 
 
 In this perplexed state, his pious mind 
 Was, to consult the oracle, inclin'd ; 
 The inambiguous oracle from whence 
 Jehovah secret counsels did dispence : 
 And undeceiving answers always gave 
 To such as, with an honest mind, did crave. 
 To Nob his weary steps he therefore bends, 
 (Nob was a city of the priests, his friends) 
 And to Ahimelech he doth repair, 
 Who then possess'd the pontifical chair. 
 
 The rev'rend pontiff, who was unadvis'd 
 Of David's troubles, now was much surprised 
 To see him come alone ; who, not long since, 
 Was royally attended, like a prince. 
 He startled at the sight ; nor could forbear 
 To ask, why unattended he came there ? 
 
 It happen'd, that a certain Edomite, 
 Who to the Hebrews was a proselyte, 
 (One who had charge and over sight of all 
 The herds, and herd-men that belong'd to Sad) 
 
 W*s 
 
34 DAVIDEIS. Book II. 
 
 Was with the priest ; but what his business there, 
 
 Doth r.ot to us in sacred writ appear ; 
 
 'Tis only left, in brief, upon record, 
 
 That he was there detain'd before the Lord. 
 
 Him standing in a corner, David spy'd, 
 
 Before he to Ahimelech reply'd ; 
 
 And, knowing well the man, he was a fraid 
 
 His friend, the priest, would be by him betray'd, 
 
 If, after he the king's displeasure knew, 
 
 He any kindness unto him should shew. 
 
 Lest therefore into danger he should bring 
 
 His friend, or out of favour with the king j 
 
 He held it best his troubles to conceal, 
 
 And not his adverse fortune to reveal ; 
 
 That, if this pick-thank should relate to Saul 
 
 Ought that against the priest should stir his gall : 
 
 The priest the accusation might surmount, 
 
 And place his kindness to the king's account, 
 
 He therefore gave the priest to understand, 
 His coming thus, was by the king's command ; 
 Who, he pretended, had dispatch'd him so, 
 That rone his secret enterprize might know : 
 
 1 that his servants, be before did send 
 To such a place, his doming to attend. 
 Adding, that in such haste he came away 
 (The king's cc Emitting no delay) 
 
 That of provision he had aevef thought ; 
 Nor had his sword, or weapons with him brought. 
 
 The guiltless priest, with unsuspecting ear, 
 This feigned story, for a truth did hear. 
 And, not with victuals only him supplyM, 
 But arm'd him with Goliah's sword beside ; 
 Which, offer'd to the Lord, when he was slain, 
 Did with the priest unto that time remain ; 
 Nay wanti'.:;-; other, he the shew-bread gave, 
 Appointed for the priests alone to have. 
 
 loing which, he errs that thinks he err'd, 
 acrifice preferr'd. 
 
Book II. DAVIDIES. 35 
 
 Yet e'er he gave the consecreated bread, 
 He ask'd, if they, who should therewith be fed, 
 Were clean. Who will of holy things partake, 
 Must whatsoever makes unclean forsake. 
 
 Thus furnish'd David did from Nob depart, 
 And turn'd his face to Gath, with heavy heart > 
 Not knowing else, where he his head might hide : 
 Nor could he long in safety there abide. 
 . The servants of King Achish quickly knew 
 That he was David, who Goliah slew. 
 And straight recounted (to incense their king) 
 What e'rst the Hebrew dames of him did sing, 
 When, in their dancing and triumphant strain, 
 They chanted, he had his ten thousands slain. 
 This David heard ; but would not seem to hear, 
 Concealing with his utmost care his fear ; 
 Till, by a stratagem, he found a way 
 Himself from Gath in safety to convey. 
 
 When past the bounds of the Philistine's land, 
 On Isr'el's coast again ; he's at a stand 
 Which way to take, or whether to direct 
 His wand'ring feet ; where he might, unsuspect, 
 Absconded lie, until those clouds were past, 
 With which his hemisphere was overcast. 
 In all his tract, unknowing of a friend 
 Whom he could trust, and who could him defend. 
 And Saul, if once discover'd, would, he knew, 
 Through ail the tribes of Israel him pursue. 
 
 But little time could he deliberate, 
 What course to take so pressing was his fate ; 
 Yet, in those moments, many a place was brought 
 Under the judgment of his winged thought. 
 
 Of all the refuges his wary mind 
 Could, in such haste, and on a sudden find, 
 None pleas'd him better, than a certain cave, 
 To which its name the town Adullum gave. 
 A spacious cave it was, yet known to few : 
 Remote from Gibeah, and from public view. 
 
 D 2 Ard. 
 
56 DAVIDEIS. Book It 
 
 And (which did recommend it to his state) 
 'Twas in the tribe of Judah situate ; 
 Judah, the tribe from which he sprang, and whence 
 He had most reason to expect defence. 
 This solitary cave, he thought, was best : 
 Where, for a while, he hop'd to find some rest. 
 The towns and cities therefore he forsook, 
 And to Adullum's cave himself betook. 
 Where long he had not been, before he spiy'd 
 A friend psss by, whose faith he oft had try'd : 
 By whom, unto his brethren, and his friends, 
 He notice of his safe arrival sends. 
 
 With joy, like that which Jacob did revive, 
 When news was brought that Joseph was alive, 
 Did good old Jesse the good tidings hear 
 That David was in safety, and so near : 
 And quickly he, his wife, and ev'ry son, 
 With all their families, to David run, 
 Him to embrace, and cheer him in his straight : 
 Henceforth resolv'd to share a common fate. 
 
 This fame expanded with a loud report ; 
 And strangers too, in multitudes, resort. 
 Whoe'er was in distress^ or discontent ; 
 And all that were in debt, unto him went. 
 A numerous company to him repair, 
 With minds as desp'rate as their fortunes w. 
 And these, with one consent, implore that he 
 A captain o'er them will vouchsafe to be. 
 He to their importunity doth yield, 
 And taking muster of them in the field ; 
 Who t'other day, no living soul could find, 
 With whom to trust his person or his mind : 
 Now rinds himself environ'd with a throng 
 Of mettled blades, about four hundred strong. 
 
 When first that lonely cave was in his eye, 
 He purpos'd only there obscur'd to lie, 
 Till providence should his affairs dispose, 
 And reconcile him to his causeless foes. 
 
Book I. DAVIDEIS. *? 
 
 But this access of forces did him force 
 
 To alter now his counsels, and his course. 
 
 He well consider'd, that it was in vain 
 
 To hope that he could long conceal'd remain. 
 
 That of his confluence of men, report 
 
 Would soon be made to Saul's enquiring court. 
 
 And that with windy trumpet, flying fame 
 
 The case would quickly thro' the tribes proclaim ; 
 
 That Saul, appris'd, would not a moment stay, 
 
 But fly upon h.m like a bird of prey. 
 
 He therefore all things needful doth, with care,, 
 
 In readiness for his defence prepare. 
 
 His soldiers he doth discipline, and show 
 
 Both how to use the sword, and draw the bow* 
 
 His aged parents unto Moab's king 
 
 (Safe conducl first obtained) he cloth bring ; 
 
 On promise, that they there should safe abide 
 
 Till God should please the quarrel to decide : 
 
 For Moab's king and Saul were then at war ; 
 
 Which made him David countenance so far. 
 
 Tilings thus disposed, he from the hold did go 
 (God, by his prophet Gad, directing so) 
 And march'd to Hareth forest, where he might, 
 If fore 'd thereto, with more advantage right. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 NOW wrap thyself, my muse, in sable weed, 
 While thou relates a most inhuman deed 
 As e'er was done. Lay by thy laurels now, 
 And wreath thy temples with a Cypress bough. 
 Thou, who, of all the nine, ne'er known to smile, 
 Art held inventress of the tragick stile, 
 Speak through my quill, and on a doleful string, 
 In mornful notes, a tragick story sing. 
 
 It was not long, e'er Saul's attentive ear, 
 Of David, and his new rais'd men, did her.r. 
 
 And 
 
sa DAViDEIS. Book II. 
 
 And calling- to remembrance, that his son 
 (Whose courage was inferior to none) 
 On the affront was put upon him last 
 (When he, at meat, his Jav'lin at him cast) 
 Was, in displeasure, from the court retir'd : 
 His fear suggested that they both conspir'd 
 Against him, and confederated were, 
 His crown and scepter 'twixt themselves to share ; 
 Which, well he knew, could not be done, but he 
 Must, if not slain, at least dethroned be. 
 The thought of which, as it did horror breed 
 In him, whose fear did from his guilt proceed, 
 So did it blow his anger to a rage, 
 Beyond the force of reason to asswage. 
 
 In this turmoil, he chanc'd abroad to be, 
 Beneath the umbrage of a spreading tree ; 
 Under whose shady boughs, in chair of state, 
 He sat, himself to cool and recreate. 
 About him stood his servants, in a ring. 
 Waiting the pleasure of their angry king. 
 
 As chafing thus he sat,, 'twixt wrath and feaiy 
 
 :>ear : 
 
 Vibrating in his palsied hands his sr 
 His terror-striking eye he roll'd about ; 
 And, in a while, his choler thus brake out : 
 
 " Hear now, ye Benjamites, v% ill Jesse's son, 
 " When he the crown of Israel hath won, 
 " To ev'ry one of you (who succour yields 
 " Unto him now ) rich vineyards give and fields ? 
 " Will he you ah, of thousands, captains make ? 
 " That ye so ready are his part to take ; 
 " That all of you against me have conspir'd : 
 " And not a man, since Jonathan retir'd, 
 " Hath shew'd me that my son a league hath made 
 " With Jesse's son ; and that I am betray'd ? 
 4i Are you so well assured of David's grace, 
 " That he will each of you promote to place 
 il Of trust and honour, that amo:,g you none 
 " In pity hath inform'd me, *hat mv son 
 
 « Hath 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. 39 
 
 " Hath stirred up my servant war to make ; 
 " And both my crown and life away to take ?" 
 
 This unexpected speech, the courtiers strook, 
 AmazM they stand, and on each other look.* 
 Each man among them knew himself to be 
 From treasonable combination free. 
 For though their love to David did remain, 
 Yet did they still their loyalty retain. 
 But when the king's stern visage they beheld, 
 His pouting lips, his cheeks with anger swell'd, 
 His stormy brow, his fiery sparkling eye ; 
 His foaming mouth, with fury drawn awry ; 
 His fuming breath, puff 'd like a smoaking brand ; 
 A trembling motion in his restless hand : 
 Tho' free from guilt, they were not free from fear ; 
 Knowing how apt he was to cast the spear. 
 
 While thus the courtiers in a silent maz,e, 
 Upon the king, and one another gaze ; 
 Forth Doeg ftepp'd, sprung from the Edomites, 
 Of herdsmen chief, and chief of Parasites : 
 The same who, t'other day, with leering eye, 
 Did David in the tabernacle spy. 
 'He now, to curry favour with his lord, 
 Told how the priest and David did ace 
 How ho himself at Nob had lately been, 
 And David with Ahimelech had seen. 
 How kind the priest ; how ready to enquire 
 Of God, in David's case, at his desire. 
 Adding the priest with food had David stor'd, 
 And arm'd him also with Cohan sword. 
 In short, he told what'er Ahitab's son 
 Had unto David said, or for him done. 
 And in such terms the matter did relate. 
 As were most apt the king to irritate. 
 
 ig what would have freed the priest from blame, 
 it David went, as in the royal nam. 1 . 
 
 • king in pain, thro' rage too closely peat. 
 In his swollen breast, ? for want of 
 
40 DAVIDEIS. Book If. 
 
 Was glad this charge against the priests to hear 
 Resolving to discharge his fury there. 
 
 Forthwith a pursuivant was sent to bring 
 The priests from Nob, before the wrathful king, 
 The priests the royal summons to obey, 
 Immediately advanc'd upon the way ; 
 And in a body, with a good intent, 
 Themselves, at Gibeah, to the king present. 
 
 No sooner did the king the priests espy, 
 But with a frowning brow, and flaming eye 
 Upon them fix'd : He to the pontiff break 
 His mind, in accents which his fury spake, 
 
 " Hear now, said he, Ahitub's son (whose word 
 To him again, was, here am I, my lord) 
 " Why hast thou with a treasonable mind, 
 " Against thy lord, with Jesse's son combin'd ? 
 H Thy treason's plain, for first ye did conspire 
 ** Against my life ; then of the Lord enquire : 
 " That thereby he, to rise against me, might 
 4i Embolden'd be, his sov'reign lord to smite. 
 ** Thou with previsions too didst him supply, 
 ** That he, as now he doth, in wait might lie. 
 *' Nay, thou into his hands a sword did put, 
 " That he my head might from my shoulders cut." 
 
 So spake the king (and more, perhaps, had spoke, 
 But that his choler did him almost choke) 
 To whom Ahimelech, with due respe£t, 
 Return'd an answer, much to this effect. 
 
 " May't please the king, what service I have done 
 " For David, was as David was thy son ; 
 " Thy son-in-law, who always freely went 
 w On whatsoever service by thee sent. 
 " One whom the king admitted to his table ; 
 " And in thy house wai> always honourable. 
 " Nor thought I any one more true to thee, 
 " Amongst thy great retinue, than was he. 
 " So may he prove ! if otherwise he be, 
 u His bcino- so was never knpwn to me. 
 
 *■ « 'Twas 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. 41 
 
 " 'Twas in thy bus'ness, that he said he came, 
 
 " Nor had I him receiv'd ; but in thy name. 
 
 " Did I then first to seek the Lord begin 
 
 xt For him, that this should now be made my sin 1 
 
 " Have I not oft before for him enquir'd ? 
 
 " Yet ne'er before was charg'd to have conspir'd. 
 
 " From me far be it, e'er to entertain, 
 
 " A thought that may my loyalty distain. 
 
 4i And from the king, far be it too I pray, 
 
 " Unto his servant's charge this thing to lay. 
 
 " Or to my father's house ; for we are clear ; 
 
 " And can our innocency make appear. 
 
 " God is my witness, what I speak is true : 
 
 " Thy servant of this matter nothing knew." 
 
 So spake the reverend Ahimelech, 
 And with his last words bow'd his aged neck. 
 The other priests, to shew they did agree 
 To what he said bow'd ev'ry man his knee. 
 
 So just the priest's defence was, and so clear, 
 Unto the standers by, did he appear, 
 That all the courtiers ready were to shout 
 For joy : when on a sudden Saul broke out, 
 And, with a vehemence of voice did cry, 
 Thou, thou Ahimelech, shalt surely die, 
 And all thy father's house. O cruel word ! 
 More cruel mind ! to be by all abhorr'd. 
 Abhorr'd it was : each courtier hung his head ; 
 And ev'ry face grew pale which had been red. 
 The dismal sentence did with horror strike 
 The hearers ; deep fetch'd sighs shew'd their dislike 
 A trembling murmur at one side began, 
 And spreading, through the whole assembly ran : 
 Which ended in an universal groan ; 
 Enough to melt all hearts, but those of stone. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
*2 DAVIDEIS. Book IL 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 HOW miserable is the state of those, 
 Whose frame of government doth them expose 
 To arbitrary pow'r ! where laws unknown ! 
 Nor any man can call his life his own ! 
 Where innocency is of little force ! 
 Because impartial justice hath no course. 
 Where one man's rage keeps all the rest in awe ; 
 Whose will and pleasure are his only law ! 
 
 O how much better is their case, who live 
 Under a constitution which doth give 
 To ev'ry man, in government a share : 
 And binds the whole to have of each a care. 
 Where even-handed justice freely flows : 
 And each the law, he must be try'd by, knows» 
 Where none by pow'r can be oppress'd, because 
 Both prince and people subject, are to laws. 
 None there an arbitrary sentence fears ; 
 Since none can be condemn'd but by his peers : 
 Whose common int'rest doth them wary make, 
 How they their fellow's life away do take. 
 For the same sentence, wherewith they condemn 
 Another, may be shortly turn'd on them. 
 These too th' accused party may reject, 
 If their indifFerency he suspect : 
 And, ne'er so mean, may for his birth-right stand 
 Fair trial, and full hearing may demand. 
 
 Prize your good fortune, ye, whose lot is fell 
 Under so good a government to dwell. 
 Where no dispensing pow'r can make a breach, 
 Upon your freedoms ; nor your persons reach. 
 But all ye have, life, liberty, estate, 
 Is safe by law, which none can abrogate 
 Without your own consents. Be therefore wise ; 
 And learn so great a benefit to prize. 
 
 Look 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. m 
 
 Look to't : be watchful, none by any wile, 
 You of so rich a jewel e'er beguile. 
 
 Ah ! had the government of Saul been such, 
 Ke had not dar'd the priests of Nob to touch, 
 Who never were, by legal proof convicted 
 Of that, for which he on them death inflicted : 
 Who had themselves from all suspicion clear' d ; 
 And blameless unto all, but him appear' d. 
 
 But he, whose lawless will for law was put, 
 Resolving off those innocents to cut ; 
 Commands his guards to turn, without delay. 
 Upon the priests of God, and them to slay. 
 Alledging (to encourage them thereto) 
 That they with trait'rous David had to do : 
 And that they David's flight, altho' they knew it, 
 Concealed had from hirn, and did not shew it. 
 
 If on the court so great a terror came, 
 When he, before, the sentence did but name, 
 How great a consternation may't be thought, 
 This warrant for their execution brought. 
 The guards, who never durst, till now dispute 
 Their lord's command, now stand amaz'd and mute. 
 The thought of such an impious act them strook 
 With trembling, and their palsied fingers shook, 
 And let their weapons fall : nor was their one 
 Among them all (tho' threaten'd from the throne 
 With stormy frowns) that would extend an arm 
 Against the priests of God, to do them harm. 
 
 None all this while, so unconcern'd did stand, 
 As did the priests themselves : the king's command 
 To have them slain (which made the rest to quake) , 
 No alteration in their looks did make : 
 No paleness, no dejection, did appear ; 
 Which shew'd their guiltless souls were free from fear. 
 A steady resolution had possest 
 
 With brave contempt of death, their peaceful breast. 
 They .in themselves, did feel the best defence, 
 Against a tyrant's threat'nings, innocence. 
 
 E This 
 
44 DAVIDEIS. Book If. 
 
 This kept their spirits in an even mean ; 
 With countenance compos'd, and minds serene. 
 Thus standing, they the Lord their God invoke ; 
 Prepared to receive the fatal stroke. 
 
 The more unterrify'd the king beheld 
 The priests, the more his breast with anger swell'd. 
 He thought that they his power did contemn : 
 And, in himself, he vow'd revenge on them. 
 He chaf 'd extremely too to think that he 
 Should, by his guards, no more regarded be. 
 Then fury boiling in him, to its height, 
 He singles out the brutish Edomite, 
 Th' informer, Doeg, bidding him to fall, 
 Upon the sacred priests, and slay them all. 
 
 Not backwarder, the Yeomen of the guard 
 Themselves had shew'd (Men mostly rough and hard) 
 Than forward he, Saul's pleasure to fulfil, 
 And strait a sea of righteous blood to spill. 
 Forth with himself he to the work addrest, 
 And in Ahimelech's unspotted breast 
 His thirsty sword did sheathe. The aged sire 
 Did not resist ; did not a foot retire : 
 But, with undaunted resolution, stood 
 The stroke ; 'till in a stream of purple blood, 
 His life expiring, to the ground he press'd : 
 A glorious pattern leaving to the rest. 
 They, without terror, did his death behold : 
 d, by his brave example, grew more bold. 
 
 Ah ! had not cursed Doeg (the disgrace 
 Of all mankind, as well as Edom's race) 
 Bs r, in his nature, savager, than were 
 The fiercest beasts committed to his care : 
 The awful aspect of Ahimclech 
 Had bee.: enough, the ruffian's mind to check : 
 Whose goodly personage, and manly face, 
 An unafie&ed gravity did grace. 
 His milk-wjute beard, unto his spotless breast, 
 itself extending, thereupon did rest. 
 
 Aftd 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. 45 
 
 And, in his sacerdotal robes attir'd, 
 Was worthily botli loved and admir'd. 
 
 But graceless Doeg, of a graceless kind, 
 Bred among beasts, to brutishness inclin'd ; 
 By shedding blood, more bloody-minded grew, 
 And on the other priests, with fury flew. 
 They undistnay'd, themselves prepare to die ; 
 Not one resists, not one attempts to fly : 
 But having God, whose priests they were, implor'd ; 
 They yield their spotless breasts to Doeg'e sword. 
 He in their blood did bathe his reeking blade ; 
 And, on the soiled earth, them breathless laid. 
 The bloody wretch their bodies hew'd and tore, 
 And warm he left them welt'ring in their gore ; 
 All man by man: nor did he leave alive, 
 One ephod-wearer out of eighty-fife. 
 
 Thus fell the priests of vjr-»:i. Thus bleeding lay 
 The tribe of Levi ; slaughter'd in a day ; 
 Butcher'd by barb'rous hands, without all cause ; 
 Against religion, reason, right and laws. 
 This Doeg acled ; but 'twas Saul that bid. 
 This Saul commanded ; and this Doeg did. 
 
 The harden'd king, thus having fed his eyes, 
 With this, to him delightful, sacrifice : 
 To cany on his vengenance to the height, 
 The city Nob too with the sword did smite, 
 No living soul therein his fury left, 
 But, whatsoever breath'd, of life bereft. 
 Men, women, children, oxen, asses, sheep, 
 His slaught'ring sword, at once away did sweep. 
 O horrid a& ! on his part most unjust ; 
 As done to answer a revengeful lust,' 
 But just from God ; who, his denounced * will 
 Against old Eli's house, did thus fulfil. 
 
 CHAP. 
 * I Sam. ii. 23. 
 
DAVIDEIS. Book It 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 WHILE thus King Saul his forces did employ, 
 His w '" deserving subjects to destroy ; 
 .11 uninform'd thereof, was bent 
 The sacking of rich Keilah to prevent. 
 
 To his retreat th' unwelcome news was brought, 
 That the Philistines against Keilah fought, 
 And robb'd the threshing-floors. His gen'rous mind 
 To raise the siege, and save the town inclin'd. 
 He therefore quickly of the Lord enquires : 
 The sacred answer quicken'd his desires. 
 Most clear the answer was : Yet he was fain, 
 His men misdoubting, to enquire again. 
 For they who were in daily fear that Saul, 
 With all his forces, would upcn them fall ; 
 Were loth, for others sakes, their strength to bre^k, 
 And make themselves, for their defence more weak. 
 But when the second time enquir'd, the Lord 
 A more confirming answer did afford ; 
 
 promise that, observing his command, 
 He'd give the Philistines into their hand. 
 
 / drew up man by man ; 
 Their valiant leader marching in the.* . 
 
 To Keilah come, unlooked for by all, 
 He on the Philistines did briskly fall ; 
 And with a dreadful slaughter all did smite, 
 Who fought not safety in a timely flight; 
 The siege thus rais'd, and Keilah's ccrasU now cleared 
 From those assailants she so justly ftar'd. 
 Into the town victorious David entered 
 (For whose deliv'rance he his life had ventiu'd) 
 Leading a booty, which his sword did win 
 From the defeated host of Philistine. 
 The gladded Keiiites all their wits emp' 
 To manifest their gratitude and joy : 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. 47 
 
 And well they might, with civic garland crown 
 His temples who from spoil had sav'd their town. 
 
 Encourag'd greatly with this good success 
 Was David, and his followers no less. 
 They joy together. But how mere a toy 
 How momentary is all human joy I 
 This glimm'ring glance of sun shine soon was past. 
 And their horizon blacker clouds o'ercast. 
 
 The triumph yet was hardly well begun, 
 When young Abiather, Ahim'lech's son, 
 (Who from the sword, by providence, was freed 
 To propagate a sacerdotal seed) 
 Came panting in ; with sweat besmear'd and dust.. 
 And almoss breathless through the concourse thrust, 
 
 To David come, with many a sigh and sob 
 He tells the horrid tragedy of Nob : 
 How the high priest, with all his priestly train, 
 And every living soul at Nob was slain. 
 Could you have seen, with what a mournful look, 
 Poor David these amazing tidings took ; 
 Ye would have doubted, whether in his face 
 Astonishment or grief had greater place. 
 So Jeptha look'd, when, to his great surprize, 
 His daughter met him for a sacrifice. 
 The suddenness and strangeness of the deed, 
 Horror in David, and amazement breed. 
 His grief was equal ; for he knew full well 
 This evil, for his sake, the priests befel. 
 The thought, with anguish, pierc'd his gen'raus 
 More deeply, than can be by words exprest, 
 The infants, with their mothers he lament 3 ; 
 And that he e'er saw Nob, too late repents. 
 The priests' unrighteous murder doth bemoan 
 No less than if the case had been his own. 
 He all their deaths bewail ; but most his grief 
 Abounds for his Ahimelech, their chief : 
 Unto whose memory how much he ow'd, 
 Could not, he thought, more signally be show'd 
 
 En -rv=. „ 
 
IS DAVIDEIS. Book II. 
 
 Than by accumulating favours on 
 AS ithar, his sole surviving son. 
 With kind embraces therefore he doth cheer 
 The down-cast youth, and bids him cast off fear ; 
 Assuring him, that since their common fate 
 Made them joint ot lefts of Saul's causeless hate ; 
 He special care would cf his safety take, 
 Both for his own and for his father's sake, 
 Whose well deservings of him, he should find, 
 Were deeply graven in a grateful mind. 
 To David now intelligence was sent, 
 By some well-wisher, that king Saul was beat 
 To shut him an in Keilah ; and to take 
 Him pris'ner ; or destroy it for his sake, 
 This made him lay all other thoughts aside, 
 And for his own sectirity provide. 
 Could David on the Keilites have rely'd, 
 That they would have stood faithful to his side ; 
 He durst have held the town against the king, 
 And all the forces in hi3 power to bring. 
 
 h was a place of strength ; and more, 
 ill provisions, for a siege in f.tcie, 
 
 ting how the citizens might hold, 
 ■ the force of steel, or pow'r of gold ; 
 the sacred oracle did go, 
 
 pose, a d the Keilites faith to know. 
 • answer was, Saul will come down ; aad they, 
 To save themselves, will thee to him betray. 
 answer, from the oracle rcceiv'd 
 David, of the Keilites HelfF bereav'd, 
 to lead his slender band from thence, 
 1 seek a place of more secure defence. 
 durst himself and men no longer trust. 
 With them, who were too fearful to be just : 
 For well he knew, were pressing fears prevadj 
 
 and friendship quickly fail. 
 Ungrateful Keilah therefore he forsook, 
 to the wilderness himself betook : 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. 
 
 The wilderness of Ziph, where he might be, 
 In all appearance, from betrayers free. 
 
 Here noble Jonathan (whose virtuous love, 
 In greatest dangers, did itself approve) 
 By secret ways, to David did repair : 
 Whose heart was almost overwhelm'd with care;- 
 
 A6 pensive lovers feel a sudden cheer, 
 On seeing th' object of their love appear,. 
 So David (at the unexpected sight 
 Of Jonathan, his very soul's delight) 
 Forgetting all his fears, and sorrows past, 
 With gladsome smiles his faithful friend embrac'd ! 
 Who such returns of hearty love did make", 
 As well the iirraaess of his friendship Bpakq; 
 Then to a shady pine they jointly walk ; 
 And,, 'twixt themselves, of David's troubles talk; 
 
 No need had David now himself to moan : 
 His friend knew how to make his cause his own : 
 He kindly to him spake, and had a word 
 Of comfort to confirm him in the Lord. 
 Bid him not fear; but in the Lord confide, 
 Who was (he could assure him) on his side. 
 Told him, the Lord would cover him, that Saul- 
 Should be unable to effect his fall. 
 And prophet-like, fortold him that the throne 
 Of Israel should one day be his own : 
 And he himself the next in dignity. 
 (Unhapy man ! who others fate could see, 
 But not his own.) Thus'baving cheer' 
 And time requiring, they their conf 'rence e 
 And then, before the Lord, they both rer 
 Their covenant ; and, kissing, bid adieu. 
 
 CHAP, 
 
5tt DAVIDEIS. Book II. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 AS in the winter, show'rs and storms succeed 
 To sun-shine, which to travellers do breed 
 Mere toil and hardship, than the transient smile 
 Of sol gave comfort, which they had e'er while : 
 So after David's heart had been made glad, 
 By the kind visit which he lately had, 
 Fresh storms arose ; his troubles now grew more*. 
 And dangers greater than they were before. 
 Saul furiously approach'd, and well he knew, 
 With num'rous forces, and his own but few- 
 Saul only wanted knowledge where he lay ; 
 And come he knew, would guide him to his prey. 
 
 The pick-thank Ziphites in whose trackless wood 
 Th' 'afflicted prince, with his retinue stood, 
 To curry favour, hasten to the king : 
 And where poor David was, glad tidings bring : 
 Engaging, if he came without delay, 
 They David would into their hands betray. 
 
 Attentive ears to ah the Ziphites told, 
 The king did lend, and smoothly them cajoll'd ; 
 Bestow'd a graceless blessing on the band, 
 Begg'd them to go again, and understand 
 More fully all his haunts, and closely spy 
 The lurking places, where he us'd to lie, 
 And bring him word : away the Ziphites post, 
 But David had, mean while, forsook their coast ; 
 And to the wilderness of Maon gone : 
 The plain that's on the south of Jeshimon, 
 Th ; s when Sail heard, he thither bent his course j 
 Resolving to prevail by fraud or force , 
 So swiftly nt pursu d, he David found, 
 And him, and all his men, environ'd round. 
 Great was the strait poor David now was in : 
 So great, he never had in greater been. 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. « 
 
 No hope to conquer, nor no way to fi,y : 
 Nothing remained, but to fight or die, 
 When lo ! a messenger came panting in, 
 And told the king, the bloody Philistine 
 Invaded had the land ; and all was lost 
 (At least, that lay upon the bord'ring coast) 
 Unless he came with speed ; therefore, O king, 
 He cry'd, make no delay ; thy forces bring 
 To save the land, and let the king make haste, 
 Before the country be laid wholly waste. 
 
 This startling message made the king with speed 
 Return ; and David from his danger freed. 
 Thus God sometimes, by unexpected ways. 
 Relief to his distressed ones conveys, 
 Exciting others upon them to fall, 
 Who would the righteous, without cause, enthral. 
 
 This great dekVrance, with a thankful heart, 
 To God ascrib'd, thence David doth depart, 
 And, with his little band of men did hie 
 Unto the fortresses of En-gedi : 
 A place of greater strength, and whence he might, 
 If over-press'd, secure himself by flight : 
 Concluding right, 'twould not be long e'er Saul, 
 With greater forces, would upon him . 
 His expe&atiofi fail'd not, for the kii 
 The Ph listines repell'd, doth with him bring 
 Three tiiousatad chosen men ; men he had try'd, 
 
 :se fidelity he could confide : 
 A-.J. now himself, with pleasing hopes, he fed. 
 That he should David take, alive or dead. 
 
 But God, who oft on wicked men doth bring 
 The hurts they plot, 'gainst others ; did the king 
 Cast single into David's hands. Now he 
 Might, with one stroke, himself for ever- free 
 From Saul's pursuits. For Saul i his'meiv 
 
 nature's call, rctir'd into a den ; 
 (His royal robe he laid aside t 
 
 any tincV the garment should defile) 
 
 Not 
 
32 DAVIDEIS. Book II. 
 
 Not thinking David in the cave had been, 
 Or that he had, by human eye been seen. 
 
 Who, but a David, would have let his foe, 
 At such advantage found, in safety go ! 
 No small temptation to him it must be, 
 To set himself from all his troubles free ; 
 His firm attendants too their lord provoke, 
 To strike himself, or let them give the stroke. 
 
 But he, whose noble breast was throughly fill'd? 
 With loyal principles, from heav'n instill'd, 
 (Not liking to, in case he should succeed 
 Unto the crown, his subjects, such a deed 
 For precedent should have) with brave disdain 
 Of such a fact, his foll'wers did restrain. 
 
 Yet that the king might sensible be made, 
 How causelessly he was of him afraid ; 
 He gently stept to where the garment lay, 
 And, undiscerned, cut the skirt away. 
 Then drawing back, he waited till the king 
 His robe resum'd, went forth ; and following, 
 He, at a distance, well secur'd, did stand 
 (Having the lappet of the robe in's hand) 
 And with extended voice, but humble speech, 
 Obeisance made, he did the king beseech 
 To view the skirt ; an evidence, quoth he, 
 Of innocence and loyalty in me r 
 For well thou may^st conclude, when I so near 
 Unto thee was, unseen ; I could my spear 
 As easily into thy side have put, 
 As from thy garment I the skirt did cut. 
 But that thy life, O king, to me was dear* 
 In that I did not hurt thee doth appear. 
 
 So well his righteous cause did David plead, 
 (Having none else for him to intercede) 
 So did lie manifest his innocence, 
 So clear'd himself from ail surmis'd offence, 
 So earnestly upon the Lord did call, 
 Judgment to give betwixt himself and Saul ; 
 
 Tin 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. SB 
 
 That Saul observing, did confounded stand, 
 
 Amaz'd to see his skirt in David's hand: 
 
 The sight of which convinc'd him, David could 
 
 At the same time have slain him if he would. 
 
 This satisfy'd him, that his life he ow'd 
 
 To David's mercy, which from virtue flow'd. 
 
 The sense whereof made him first weep, then Cry, 
 
 " Thou, my son David, art more just than I : 
 
 " For thou, for all the evil I have done 
 
 " To thee, hast me rewarded well my son. 
 
 " What man his foe, at such advantage found, 
 
 " Would spare ! thy goodness doth to me abound. 
 
 " Wherefore the Lord reward thee good, I pray, 
 
 " For thy great kindness shewn to me this day. 
 
 Then adding, " Now, behold, by this I know 
 
 i( The Israelitish crown to the shall go : 
 
 *• And that the kingdom shall established be 
 
 *' On thee, and thine, by heaven's just decree. 
 
 " Swear therefore, said he, to me, by the Lord, 
 
 " That thou wilt mercy to my seed afford : 
 
 " And not for my offence, cut of the same, 
 
 ** But leave me in my father's house a name." 
 
 His title to the kingdom David knew, 
 Better than Saul ; and whence that title grew : 
 Ev'n from the sacred oil, which, on his head, 
 The prophet had by God's appointment shed. 
 Wherefore; to humour Saul, he to him sware : 
 Which done, Saul strait way homeward did repair ; 
 But David who too well the king did know 
 To trust him ; up into the hold did go. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 THE prophet Sam'el now resign 'd his breath 
 To God who gave it. To lament whose death 
 And, with a due regard to solemnize, 
 ublic manner his sad obsequies ; 
 
 Th*t 
 
54 DAVIDEIS. Boo* II. 
 
 The Israelites, with one consent, did hie 
 To Ramah, where he liv'd, and was to lie, 
 And that the king, who lov'd to seem devout, 
 Would give attendance there, we need not doubt. 
 This gave poor David some few days of ease, 
 And from his fears did him a while release. 
 
 To Paran now, new quarters seeking, he 
 Remov'd his little camp from En-gedi ; 
 From wilderness to wilderness ; where still 
 To get provisions would require his skill. 
 
 Here, wants encreasing, he to mind did call, 
 That long before he fled the face of Saul, 
 There liv'd a wealthy miser on that coast, 
 Who of his great posse ssions us'd to boast. 
 
 Besides a thousand goats, three thousand sheep, 
 His hinds in Carmel, constantly did keep. 
 So great a flock must many hands employ 
 (Many a lusty man, and sturdy boy) 
 To keep and shear the sheep, and wind the wool ; 
 Nor would a little keep their bellies full, 
 Great store of victuals therefore must be drcst 
 In such an house ; although there were no guest : 
 And custom had prevail'd to that degree, 
 To every friend the shearing feast was free. 
 
 This David well considering, and hearing 
 That this rich neighbour had begun sheep-shearing, 
 Thcught it a proper time for him to try, 
 Whether his wealth was mixtwith charity, 
 He therefore chose out ten young men, who were 
 Of his retinue, them he bid repair 
 To go to Nabal (for that was the name^ 
 Of this rich man) and when to him they came, 
 They, in their master's name, should him salute, 
 In such terms as his humour best might suit. 
 "Wish, peace, said he, to him, his house, and all 
 Whatever he doth possess, both great and small. 
 When thus ye have address' d him, tell him I, 
 Who might command, entreat his courtesy. 
 
 6 Which 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. 55 
 
 Which to excite, put him in mind, that we 
 From doing hurt to him, or his, are free. 
 For proof of which we boldly dare appeal 
 To his own servant's : may but he so deal 
 With us, as we by them have dealt, while they 
 Among us fed his nocks from day to day. 
 Then close your message thus, since we are come 
 In a good day 5 give us, we pray thee, some 
 Of thy provisions ; that thy servants may 
 To David thy beneficence convey. 
 
 Thus David's servants, unto Carmel come, 
 To Nabal spake. But he, with aspedl glum, 
 And scornful tone ; said, who is David ? who 
 The son of Jesse ? Many servants do 
 Break, now a days each from his Lord, that he 
 Himself may, from his due obedience, free. 
 And would you have me take my bread and meat, 
 (Provisions for my guests, and men to eat) 
 And squander 'em to such ; I neither know 
 From whence they come, nor whither they may go. 
 
 This surly answer did the men so scare, 
 That they (like modest beggars, as they were) 
 Not pressing further, to their lord return : 
 And, with the story, make his spirits burn. 
 For he no sooner heard with what despight, 
 The brutish clown his just request did slight ; 
 But, in a high resentment of th' affront, 
 (And resolution to take vengeance on't) 
 He to his soldiers forthwith gave the word, 
 Arm, arm with speed : and girding on his sword, 
 Drew forth four hundred ; which he thought enough 
 (Leaving the rest to guard the camp and stuff ) 
 And with a stormy mind, and martial heat, 
 March'd on, bestowing many a direful threat 
 On Nabal now, who single must not fall, 
 But he, and his own family withal. 
 
 In vain, said David, have I safely kept 
 This fellow's flocks, while he securely slept. 
 
 F Vfc 
 
$6 DAVIDEIS. Book 11 
 
 He might a civil answer sure have sent, 
 
 If he, to part with nothing, was so bent. 
 
 I'll take such veng'ance on th' ungrateful wretch, 
 
 That others may from him example fetch. 
 
 While thus enraged David made such haste, 
 Nabal to slay, and his whole house lay waste ; 
 Propitious providence, whose piercing eye 
 Sees all mens deeds, and thoughts too from on high* 
 And with a secret, over-ruling arm, 
 As well from doing, as receiving harm ; 
 Doth his preserve : did now contrive a way 
 David, from shedding guiltless blood, to stay. 
 Such means too oft, through stupid ignorance, 
 Are weakly plac'd to accident or chance, 
 By thoughtless men ; though others clearly see 
 They are the effects of a divine decree, 
 Which oft thro' instruments are brought to pass $ 
 As this, whereof we now are speaking, was. 
 
 For Nabal, though himself a fool, or mad, 
 (As e'en his veiy name imports) yet had 
 A well accomplis'h wife, discreet and wise, 
 Fair-spoken, full of virt'ous qualities : 
 Who offctier husband's rudeness did bewail, 
 And seek to hide : her name was Abigail. 
 
 To her a servant (who had seen and heard 
 His master's foul behaviour, justly fear'd 
 The dire effects oft) hasten'd to th' intent, 
 That she, forwarn'd, the mischief might prevent. 
 
 Mistress, said he, David, to whom, we know, 
 The safety of ourselves and flocks we owe ; 
 Who hath so kind a neighbour been, that, since 
 He came to live among us, a defence 
 He hath been to us, both by night and day, 
 Securing us from thieves, and beasts of prey : 
 This courteous prince hath to our master sent 
 Ambassadors, both with a compliment 
 Of gratulation, and a small request ; 
 That he'd admit him (as an absent guest) 
 
 To 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. 51 
 
 To be partaker, in some sort at least, 
 Of the abundance of his shearing-feast. 
 
 But Oh ! our master, who thou know'st t<KJrwell, 
 Is so ungovern'd, that if one do but tell 
 A civil message to him, he will fall 
 Foul on him, like a son of Belial. 
 So did he now at David's men let fly 
 A rude inveclive, full of raillery, 
 Against their master, and them back hath sent 
 Empty of food ; but full of discontent. 
 Consider therefore, mistress, what to do, 
 For quick diverting the impending blow ; 
 For evil, if not stopt, is like to fall 
 Upon our master, and through him, us all. 
 
 Not without great surprise, we may suppose, 
 Th' attentive dame did hear such words as those : 
 Which she had reason to believe were true ; 
 For she too well her husband's temper knew, 
 But being of a well composed mind 
 (To all men just, and to her husband kind) 
 She did not think it was a proper season, 
 With him, of his ill carr'age then to reason : 
 But hasten all she could, to go, and try 
 If she the injur'd prince could pacify. 
 
 Her husband therefore not consulted, she 
 A present took, of what might likely be 
 To gain acceptance, [bread, wine, flesh well-drest, 
 Figs, raisins, parched-corn] all of the best, 
 In good proportion ; which on asses laid, 
 She sent before her ; and, for haste, ne'er staid 
 Herself to deck ; but in her common dress, 
 Sped after, bending to the wilderness. 
 
 As down the hill she rode, her watchful eye 
 Did David, with his men descending, spy 
 From th' adverse hill ; at equal distance set, 
 They, in the interjacent valley met. 
 
 Come near to David, from her ass she leapt, 
 And. with submissive look, first forward stept 
 
58 DAVIDEIS. Book II. 
 
 A pace,' oij two ; then prostrate at his feet 
 She fell ; and modestly the prince did greet : 
 
 " On me, my lord, I pray, on me let lie 
 " The punishment for this iniquity. 
 44 Let'iiot my lord this man of Belial heed, 
 " Nabal, whose name and nature are agreed 
 " So well, that by his name is well exprest 
 " The folly which doth in his bosom rest. 
 " Resent it not. But let thy handmaid stand 
 " 'Twixt him and thee ; subject to thy command. 
 " Yet give me leave, I pray, to speak a word, 
 " A word in season, to my honour' d lord ; 
 " Which shall be nothing but the truth ; that so, 
 " Thou may'st the right state of the matter know ; 
 " For of a truth, my lord, I did not see 
 " The messengers that came to him from thee : 
 " Nor of the matter did one tittle hear, 
 44 Till they were gone ; and then both shame and fear 
 44 Did spur me on to hasten to my lord, 
 44 And bow my neck unto thy right'ous sword. 
 " Strike, if thou please : yet give me leave to say, 
 44 The Lord will thee avenge another way. 
 " Stain not thine hand with blood, but to the Lord 
 44 Refer thy cause ; who can, without thy sword, 
 44 Revenge thy wrongs ; may who seeks ill to thee, 
 44 Be in like case as Nabal soon will be." 
 
 Then humbly offering him the things she brought* 
 Her present to accept she him besought. 
 And raising her discourse to higher things ; 
 (Such as concern'd the kingdom) home she brings - 2 
 The matter to himself ; and thus apply'd 
 The case to him j as if she prophesy'd. 
 " Because my lord, thou dost his battles fight, 
 44 The Lord of hosts in thee doth take del ght. ' 
 44 He'll make thee a sure house, wherein to dwell ; 
 44 And set thee on the throne of Israel. 
 44 Thy head shall wear the Israelitish crown, 
 d t] : id die in high renown. 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. 59 
 
 Then, giving Saul some (not unwelcome) blows, 
 She thus to David her discourse did close : 
 " When thou hast found the Lord deal well with thee, 
 " Remember that it was foretold by me." 
 
 This said, she stopt : but not before the Lord 
 Had David quite disarm'd (not of his sword, 
 ijut) of his anger, and that hot displeasure, 
 Which, in his breast had boil'd beyond due measure. 
 He now is changed : his heat is now allay'd, 
 And looking on fair Abigail, he said : 
 
 " Blest be the God of Isr'el who this day 
 " Sent thee to meet, and stop me on the way. 
 " Blessed be thy advice ; and blessed be 
 " Thou too, for giving it. Whereby thou me 
 " Prevented hast from shedding blood ; which I 
 u To do, hadst thou not come, was very nigh. 
 u I did the injury too high resent : 
 " And to revenge as high, was fully bent. 
 " But now from thoughts of violence I cease, 
 *' And gladly send thee back again in peace. 
 u Return, fair dame, return ; for I rejoice, 
 " That I have heard, and hearken'd to thy voice. 
 " Thy virtues good impressions in me leave ; 
 " And I thy present gratefully receive. 
 " Thy wise behaviour hath atonement made,. 
 " For the offence thy husband's rudeness laid/' 
 Then parting,, he unto his camp retir'd ; 
 She to her house ; he her, she him admir'd. 
 
 CHAP. VII. " 
 
 WHEN Abigail returned home, she found 
 Nabal kept open house ; all things abounct 
 Ev'n to profusion ; such a lavish 'feast, 
 As might have entertain'd a royal guest. 
 The wine 60 freely flow'd, and he the cup 
 So often took ; so often turn'd it up : 
 
 F 2 Ti-at 
 
60 DAVIDEIS. Book II. 
 
 That he, who was the master of the feast, 
 Had now transform'd himself from man to beast : 
 In high excess he spent the jovial day, 
 And stupid, now in drink, he snoring lay. 
 
 This was no time to speak to him. But when, 
 Next morn, his little sense return'd again ; 
 She in due order, did to him relate 
 The danger he had 'scap'd ; how near his gate 
 David's vindictive sword had been ; how he, 
 And all his house, were near a massacre. 
 How instant danger o'er them all had hung, 
 The cause, his rudeness and abusive tongue. 
 
 This he no sooner heard, but strait the thought? 
 O f danger, he upon himself had brought, 
 (Though now he knew 'twas over) struck a dart 
 Into his mean, and too unmanly heart. 
 His spirits sunk ; and in some ten days time, 
 Smote by the Lord, his life went for his crime. 
 So great a man, so strange a death, so near 
 To David's camp, must quickly reach his ear. 
 Which when he heard, he blest the Lord that he 
 Had both from self-avenging kept him free : 
 And also had by an immediate stroke, 
 Aveng'd his cause, and Nabal's heart had broke.. 
 
 Then recollecting what a goodly dame 
 (With beauty, wisdom, virtue, youth and fame, 
 Adorned) Abigail to him appear'd, 
 When (to avert the storm she justly fear'd) 
 She, as a suppliant, the other day, 
 Akho' with tears bedew'd, before him lay : 
 Love kindled in his heart a noble flame, 
 With honour to espouse the lovely dame. 
 To her he, therefore, quickly did dispatch 
 Ambassadors to treat an happy match 
 Between them ; let her know how chaste a flame 
 Possest his breast ; and court her in his name, 
 Conduct her safe, that she might be his wife, 
 Partaker of his fourlunes* during life. 
 
Book It. DAVIDEIS, 61 
 
 The message told : wise Abigail, who knew 
 How great, how good, how wise, how just, how true 
 Prince David was ; how pious and how dear 
 Tp God, and also to the crown how near ; 
 Did not take state upon her, nor require 
 Time to consider, and be courted higher, 
 But, by an humble phrase, express consent ; 
 And mounting, well attended, with them went 
 To David, who, with joy, did her receive : 
 And each, in heart, did to the other cleave. 
 
 About this time too, or not long before, 
 David (who long had been afflicted sore, 
 For loss of Michal, and now hopeless grown, 
 That he should e'er enjoy her as his own) 
 Marry'd Ahinoam, a goodly dame, 
 Of Jezreel, who out of Judah came, 
 So that he now was doubly wiv'd, and might 
 In there sweet conversation take delight. 
 
 At once was David of the two posiess'd, 
 With father's joy, and brother's beauty bless'd : 
 The first by Abigail was signify 'd ; 
 The latter nam'd his Jezreelitish bride. 
 This made him Michal's absence better bear ; 
 Supply 'd by two, so virtuous, and so fair, 
 For she, her cruel father (more to vex 
 Poor David, and his state the more perplex) 
 Had to another given ; and did constrain 
 Th' unwilling dame her nuptial bed to stain. 
 O impious man ! who gave her for a snare 
 To David (as he stuck not to declare*) 
 Which she not proving : In revengeful rage 
 He to another did her soon engage. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I Saw. x\*ii. a i, 
 
&2 DAVTDEIS. Book f& 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 A Time of respite David bad enjoy'd, 
 While Sam'el's funeral the king employed, 
 A time of joy ; wherein he might at leisure 
 Refresh himself with undisturbed pleasure. 
 But now his troubles hasten on again 
 And he must now repeat his former pain. 
 He now for self-defence had need prepare, ^ 
 
 Lest Saul be on him e'er he be aware. 
 
 For Saul to Gibeah was no sooner come, 
 But the false Ziphites thither to him run, 
 Inform him, David doth near them reside, 
 And in their woods himself and men doth hide : 
 Offer their service, urge the forward king 
 To come ; and with him strength enough to bring. 
 
 This invitation, added to the fire 
 In Saul's own breast, kindled so 3trong desire 
 Of taking David : that he forthwith rose 
 Prom Gibeah, and in quest of David goes : 
 Leading three thousand with him, men well try'd, 
 Vailiant and strong ; in whom he could confide. 
 These into the woods of Ziph did draw. 
 And pitched in the hill of Hachilah. 
 David, mean while, informed by his scouts, 
 That Saul lay encamped somewhere thereabouts 
 In th* evening ventur'd from his hold to try 
 Saul's strength, and disposition to descry. 
 
 Come to the camp, he saw where Saul did lye^ 
 Within the trench, his spear just sticking by 
 His bolster ; and a cruse of water near 
 His thirst to quench, and spirits also cheer. 
 This seeing, unobserv'd strait back he goes ; 
 Fetches Abishai ; unto whc^i he shows 
 Saul, Abner, ail the soldiers fast asle'.p j 
 No centinel awake, the watch to keep. 
 
 Fain 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. 63 
 
 Fain would Abishai give the fatal stroke, 
 To free his master from the tyrant's yoke ; 
 And much he press'd, and hard he begg'd for leave 
 To strike a blow, might Saul of life bereave. 
 
 But noble David (in whose gen'rous breast 
 Loyal and pious principles did rest) 
 Flatly forbad it, saying God forbid 
 That I should so myself from trouble rid. 
 The Lord forbid, that I mine hand should stretch 
 Against the Lord's anointed. Such a wretch 
 May I ne'er be ! I'll leave him to the Lord, 
 Who works by various ways besides the sword. 
 But take, said he, his water-pot and spear, 
 By which my innocency may appear, 
 
 This undiscover'd, done, they both withdrew ; 
 And from a distant eminence in view, 
 To Abner, David, loud, directs his call, 
 The gallant Abner, Saul's brave general : 
 Alarm'd, he starts, and cries, whose tongue doth ring 
 So shrill ? speak softly lest thou wake the king. 
 
 Ah ! art not thou a valliant man ? but where, 
 Said David, is thy vigilance and care ? 
 For there came one unto the king's bed-side, 
 (Whom none of all your centinels descry 'd) 
 By whom the king might have been slain, had I 
 Not interpos'd. Who now deserves to die ? 
 And that the truth thereof may plain appear, 
 See here his cruse of water, and his spear. 
 
 By this time Saul, awaking with the noise, 
 And startling at the sound of David's voice, 
 Cry'd, is it thou, my son ? Yes, yes, it is, 
 Said David : wherein have I done amiss ? 
 Since I to thee, O king, am always true : 
 Why ? oh why thus dost thou my life pursue ? 
 If thou thus hunt'st me by the Lord's command, 
 May he accept an off'ring at my hand. 
 But if this mischief, by the sons of men, 
 io'd against me, with design, O, then 
 
 Accursed 
 
64r DAVIDEIS. Book it 
 
 Accursed of the Lord be they, who strive 
 Me from th' inheritance of God to drive, 
 As iflthey said, to other Gods be gone : 
 Yet r resolve to serve the Lord alone, 
 And therefore trust in his support thro' all 
 That to the earth my blood may never fall. 
 How mean a thing it is, that Israel's king 
 An armed host into the field should bring, 
 To seek a flea ! are men of wisdom wont, 
 With armies, after partridges to hunt ! 
 No greater I than these may counted be, 
 If I, great prince, compared am to thee. 
 
 Not more did David's rhetoric prevail 
 On Saul, than that which never us'd to fail 
 With him, and such as he, the sight of's spear 
 In David's hand ; whereby he knew how near 
 David to him had been, whilst fast asleep, 
 He lay at David's mercy (none to keep 
 The stroke off from him) who might with one blow 
 Have sent his soul down to the shades below ; 
 Yet did not hurt him. This the better part 
 Of Saul's ill nature reach'd ; and in his heart 
 Kindled a spark of gratitude ; from whence 
 Sprang an acknowledgment of his offence. 
 Frankly, as o^ce before, in like distress, 
 His error, folly, sin he doth confess. 
 
 Son David, I have greatly sin'd, said he, 
 I beg thy pardon ; pray return to me. 
 Full well I know, that I have play'd the fool, 
 And broke the precepts taug^ht in virtue's schooL 
 But never more will I against thee rise, 
 Because my life was precious in thine eyes. 
 
 The Lord, said David, o.ice again hath put 
 Thee in my pow'r. I eas'ly might have cut 
 Thy thread asunder." God so deal with me, 
 As.. I have. faithful been, and kind to thee, 
 
 When 
 
Book II. DAVIDEIS. 65 
 
 When David ceas'd, Saul did his blessings give i 
 Wishing he in prosperity might live. 
 Then parting, Saul returned to his place. 
 And David to his camp directs his pace. 
 
 T*rX.END OF THE SECOND BOOK, 
 
 DAVIDEIS. 
 
DAVIDEIS. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 LONG had the Hebrew commonwealth been tern 
 By civil jars, since first the sacred horn 
 On David's head, from rev'rend Samuel's hand, 
 Had empty'd been by God's express command. 
 While the tall son of Kish, with armed force 
 Begirt (the flow'r of Israel's foot and horse) 
 Left nothing unattempted, to bring down 
 The son of Jess', the rival of his crown : 
 The princely youth by envy doom to fall, 
 Because his virtues far exceeded Saul : 
 Who can recount the jeopardies, which he 
 Was daily in, while he was fain to flee 
 From cave to rock ; from one hold to another, 
 And safety for his aged sire and mother 
 In Moab seek ; himself enfore'd to fly 
 To Achish Israel's utter enemy ! 
 Who the great' Philistines so lately slew, 
 Is glad now to a Philistine to sue 
 For shelter ; driven, by domestick foes, 
 To beg, from foreign enemies repose. 
 Adullum, Mizpeh, Harath, Keilah, Ziph, 
 En-gedi, Paian, arid the craggy cliff 
 Of Hachilah, the rocks where wild goats breed, 
 Witness the hardships borne by Jesse's seed 
 
 A sabbath now of years was fully run, 
 Since David's causeless troubles first begun j • 
 
 , V 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 67 
 
 When the Almighty, having throughly prov'd 
 The faith and love of him he throughly lov'd, 
 Said, 'tis enough ! and with that word decreed 
 The means, whereby his David should be freed. 
 
 The Philistines again in#ade the land, 
 The tall, but trembling king, is at a stand. 
 From God departed, he of God is left, 
 Of counsel, and of courage both, bereft 
 What course, in this so great a strait, to steer, 
 He wist not ; 'twixt necessity and fear. 
 The prophet, from whose heaven-inspired breast, 
 Counsel did use to flow, was gone to rest. 
 Gofi, nor by urim did, in that extream, 
 Vouchsafe to give an answer, nor by dream : 
 Though sought unto. In vain doth man expect 
 Diliv'rance by the hand he doth rejec~l. 
 
 Deserted thus of God, the faithless king 
 Himself upon th' infernal povv'rs doth fling • 
 Consults a witch, and her employs to raise 
 The prophet Samuel; who many clays 
 Had with his fathers slept. O blinded wretch ! 
 To think a silly witch had pow'r to fetch 
 A sacred prophet from his peaceful rest ; 
 Or Devils, after death, could saints molest 
 
 Yet by the apparition which she brought, 
 Was Sanl of his approaching ruin taught ; 
 And found it true. The Philistines prevail'd 
 The strength of Isr'ei with their courage fail'd 
 Numbers were slain ; the rest with terror fled, 
 And Saul's three sons were found among the dead t 
 He sorely wounded, and in blood imbru'd, 
 By chariots and by horsemen close pursu'd, 
 Bids his own squire (lest he should be abus'd) 
 >atch him quite ; but he through fear refus'd ; 
 ,iair then prompting, on his sword he fell, 
 - durst against the king of kings rebel. 
 
 Such wa3 the end of disobedient Saul, 
 >m God the first to Israel's crown did call 
 
 G For 
 
68 DAVIDEIS. Book III 
 
 For not performing God's express command, 
 Perish he must. And that by his "own hand. 
 H > that spar'd Agag, doom'd by God to death, 
 With his own hand lets out his vital breath. 
 Monarchs, beware. Let this great monarch's fall 
 For ever be a warning to you all. 
 
 CHAP. IL 
 
 WHILE this so great discomfiture befel, 
 For their king's Sake, the host of Israel ; 
 While streams of reeking blood did float the plain, 
 And Gilboa was loaded with the slain : 
 The all-commanding providence took care 
 That his anointed prince should not be there : 
 And by an extraordinary way 
 Kept him from danger, and from guilt that Day. 
 
 The great disposer of all human things, 
 Who, at his pleasure, makes, and unmakes kings ; 
 Who hath the hearts of princes in his hand, 
 And can our foes, to be our friends, command ; 
 He had the heart of Gath's fierce king inclin'd 
 To be to. David, in affliction, kind. 
 
 Achish did Ziklag unto David give, 
 Where he, with his retinue, safe migh live : 
 HeapM favours on him, promis'd great rewards } 
 No less than to be captain of his guards. 
 .But he must to the battle with him go, 
 And help to give his king an overthrow. 
 
 How great a strait must David now be in* 
 Having no other choice, than death or sin ! 
 Death if he should refuse to fight ; and sin, 
 In fighting Isr'el for the Philistine. 
 Thus sorely exercis'd, it may be guess'd, 
 
 thoughts as these might fill his troubled breast. 
 
 How can I draw my sword against my king, 
 por. mvself the Odium bring. 
 
 Of 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 69 
 
 Of foul rebellion ! I who never durst 
 
 Attempt his life ; although he sought mine first. 
 
 I dare not (knowing him by God appointed) 
 
 Stretch forth mine hand against the Lord's anointed. 
 
 I will recall, how I within was smote, 
 
 When I but cut the skirt from off his coat. 
 
 What may I then expect, but wrath divine, 
 
 If he should fall by any stroke of mine ! 
 
 But say the king were safe ; yet how can I, 
 Whose sword hath troops of Philistines made fly ; 
 Who purchas'd Michal with the parted skins 
 Of four times fifty slaughtered Philistines : 
 I, who the daring'st champ'on of their crew 
 (They looking on) in single combat slew ; 
 And (God assisting) with a single sling, 
 Deliv'rance did unto my country bring : 
 Shall I now for the Philistines go fight 
 And draw my sword against an Isr'elite ! 
 Shall I assist, God's heritage to bring 
 In thraldom to th* uncircumcised king ! 
 Shall I, upon myself, incur the guilt 
 Of all the blood which may that day be spilt 
 In Israel ! the Lord forbid, that I 
 Should ever yield to such villainy. 
 
 But yet, if I refuse my men to lead 
 With Achieh to the feld, and cannot plead 
 A fair excuse ; what can I think but he 
 Will thenceforth treat me as his enemy ! 
 What can I then exped for me, and mine, 
 But present death ! or that he will confine 
 Myself and men in prison close, until 
 He may our blood with ling'ring torment spill. 
 
 Shall I, this mischief to prevent, comply 
 With his commands, at least wise seemingly ! 
 Shall I unto my present fortune yield, s 
 And briskly draw my forces to the field ; 
 Shall I with Achish to the battle go, 
 As if I were to Israel a foe : 
 
 Thwi 
 
70 DAVIDEIS. Book III. 
 
 Then, when the battle's ]oind, wheel about, 
 And help to give the Philistines a rout ! 
 No ! that were base : and I had rather die, 
 Than stain mine honour with such treachery, 
 Exil'd from mine own land, I hither fled, 
 To seek a shelter for my hunted head ; 
 I found a kind reception with this prince, 
 And in his favour I have stood e'er since. 
 To me his bounty hath extended been, 
 No less than if I were a Philistine. 
 In me he doth repose a special trust. 
 And God forbid I should be less than just. 
 Ungrateful, to a proverb, I should be, 
 Should I betray him to his enemy. 
 Death rather choose ! than such an infamy 
 On David, or an Israelite should lie. 
 
 While David thus did many thoughts revolve, 
 Not knowing what, with safety, to resolve : 
 ( Save, in the rear, with Achish on to go, 
 And wait on God, for counsel what to do ;) 
 The God of David his deliv'rance wrought, 
 And fairly him frcm this dilemma brought. 
 
 The princes of the Philistines, to whom 
 Their king's new favourite was ••ov, become 
 An eye-sore ; not well pleas'd before to see 
 Gmttt=f«votHfS KrapM ••;• -c : 
 
 And now, observing that their easy king 
 Not only David, and his men, did bring 
 To battle ; hut had rang'd them by his side, 
 As if in them he chiefly did confide ; 
 Their emulation could no longer hide, 
 But, with a discontented murmur, cry'd, 
 What do these Hebrews here ! the king would fain 
 Their discontents allay ; but try'd in vain. 
 The more he David's courage, conduct, prais'd, 
 The more against him he their cholev nuYd. 
 
 ,- wrath brake forth. Tins fellow make, sai 
 FUti.vii unto his place; test be betray 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 71 
 
 Us, in the heat of fight ; and by that wile 
 
 Himself linto his master reconcile. 
 
 For, by what means, can he procure his peace 
 
 With Saul, so well as by the heads of these ? 
 
 Command him thefore back, for surely know, 
 
 He shall not, with us, to the battle go. 
 
 They stoutly urge. The king is fain to yield, 
 
 And- David forthwith is dismist the field. 
 
 Thus God, when he his saints hath throughly try'd, 
 
 Can ways unthought for their escape provide. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 JOY now abounding in his thankful heart, 
 Jesse's fair son doth from the camp depart, 
 And towards Ziklag, with a nimble pace, 
 Marches, his loyal consorts to embrace. 
 But, e'er the sun thrice set, his joy was check'd, 
 By a disaster he did least expect. 
 
 Approaching near the place, where stood the town. 
 To his surprise he found it levelPd down, 
 Burnt to the ground, and in its ashes laid, 
 And all that was therein away convey'd. 
 No living soul was left that might inform 
 Who were the authors of this dismal storm. 
 
 Who can conceive the horror that posoess'd 
 On that afflicting sight, poor David's breast 
 Amaz'd he stood, like one that's struck with thunder, 
 Fill'd with astonishment, and silent wonder. 
 His blood retiring to his trembling Heart, 
 Left a cold sweat upon each outward part. 
 Heart-rending sorrows did, without controi^l, 
 Imprison all the powers of his soul, 
 Grief fore'd a vent at last, and out did pour, 
 Thorough his fainting eyes, an easing show'r ; 
 Tears flow'd amain : he wept until the store 
 Of tears was 6pent, and he could weep no more. 
 
 G 2 When 
 
H DAVIDEIS. Book III. 
 
 When sighs did passage to his grief afford, 
 And speech was to his fait 'ring tongue restor' J. 
 He more obdurate must have been than stone, 
 Whose heart had not been tend'red with his moan. 
 The loss of Ziklag something was ; much more 
 That of the people, with their wealthly store : 
 But, with the deepest groans, he did bewail 
 His lost Ahinoam and Abigail. 
 His sorrow to compleat, his little host 
 (For there was no man that had nothing lost) 
 Where on the point to mutiny, and fall, 
 With stones, upon their guiltless general 
 
 His reason now did to return begin, * 
 Out of that stupor grief had plung'd it in ; 
 And calling back, with nimble diligence, 
 His spirits, and ills intellect'al sense : 
 His piety did first itself exert, 
 Sure token of a right religious heart. 
 Fear, bane of noble actions, off he shakes, 
 And in the Lord his God, fresh courage takes. 
 His blood enkindles, and his spirits boil 
 With strong desire to rega ; n the spoil, 
 The living spoil (if life did yet remain 
 In his two consorts, ar.d their youthful train) 
 His naming eye sparkles in angry threat, 
 And just revenge his active pulses beat. 
 Yet would he not on this adventure move, 
 Till he had try'd how God would it approve. 
 How happy should we be ! how would success 
 Crown all our actions ! how would heaven bless 
 Our essays, if in all we undertake, 
 We first the Lord our counsellor would make ? 
 
 The priest is calPd. The sacred ephod broug ht ; 
 God's counsel, in his own direction sought ; 
 The answer is propitious. Out he went 
 With his six hundied men. Two hundred spe 
 With their hard march, were by the rest forsook, 
 Not able to get over Besor-brook. 
 
 Not 
 
Book' III. DAVIDE1S. 7* 
 
 Not far had David, with the rest advanc'd* 
 When an Egyptian, in the field, they chanc'd 
 To find ; who, being sick, and hunger pia'd, 
 Was by those sacking rovers left behind. 
 Him they refreshed with long-wanted food ; 
 And by him, when recover'd understood, 
 That their old enemy, th* Amalekite, 
 It was, had done them this so great despite. 
 By him. too, oath of safety first being giv'n, 
 (Oaths then were lawful, by the God of heav'n) 
 Was David guided to the place, where they 
 In jovial merriment securely lay. 
 Of Ziklag's dainties they a feast had made, 
 And, with their plunder, drove a merry trade ', 
 From eating they to dancing fell, and drinking ; 
 How soon they must the reckoning pay, not thinking, 
 When, on a sudden, David in doth pour 
 His men upon them, like a thunder show'r. 
 
 Could you observe in what a furious way, 
 A lion leaps upon his trembling prey : 
 So on th' Amalekitcs, the Hebrews flew, 
 Than lions fiercer ; having in their view 
 Their captiv'd wives and children, and the fire 
 Of smoaking Ziklag. to inflame their Ire. 
 The slaughtered till the next day's ev'ning held, 
 The earth with slain was cover'd ; rivers sweil'd 
 With blood of Amalek, that thither ran ; 
 For of them all escaped not a man, 
 Except four hundred, who (perhaps by night) 
 On camels mounted, sav'd themselves by flight. 
 
 During the time this bloody work did lost, 
 The captive dames, with hands and eyes up cast, 
 Implor'd the God of Israel to bless 
 The arms of their deliverers with succes3. 
 But when destroy'd they saw their enemies, 
 Their thankful joy break through their sparklin^ e^es. 
 And as Andromeda, when from her chain 
 Reieas'd, she saw the frightful monster slain, : 
 
 So 
 
74 D'AVIDEIS. Book III. 
 
 So look'd Ahinoam, so Abigail, 
 
 When they their dearest David saw prevail. 
 
 The slaughter over, and the field now clear' d, 
 So that no living enemy appeared ; 
 The victors, and their new redeemed dames 
 (Those love, these love and gratitude inflames^ 
 Together run, with nimble-footed paces 
 And clasp each other, in most sweet embraces. 
 When they had paid the debt long due to love, 
 The Hebrew captain did from thence remove : 
 And toward Ziklag took again his way, 
 With his recovered spoil, and with the p;-ey 
 Of Amalek. To Besor-brook they bend, 
 Where his recruited men did him attend. 
 To them, as to the rest, he doth divide 
 Their share o' th' booty, and to Ziklag hy'd : 
 From whence he, of the spoil, unto his friends, 
 In all the coasts about, rich presents sends. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 TWO days in Ziklag now had David stay'd, 
 To view the rums which the fire had made y 
 But most his thoughts on Israel's camp did run, 
 And fear'd the worst ; not knowing what was done ; 
 When on the third, lo, one with running spent, 
 (Earth on his head, and all his garments rent) 
 Came from the camp, and falling at his feet, 
 Did with good news, as he suppos'd, him greet. 
 
 He told, how Israel from the battle fled ; 
 That of the soldiers multitudes were dead : 
 That Saul, and Jonathan his son, were slain. 
 At those great names, David could not refrain, 
 But forthwith ask'd him, by what means he knew 
 What he reported of Saul's death was true. 
 He, hoping some advantage would accrue, 
 Confessed his prince, at his request he slew : 
 
 Ai 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 75* 
 
 And to confirm the truth of what he said, 
 Saul's crown and bracelet at his feet he laid, 
 
 As one that stooping something up to take, 
 Claps his unwary hand upon a snake. 
 Doth with a sudden fright, first backward start 
 (His scared blood retiring to his heart) 
 Then, at a further distance, trembling stands, 
 With fainting countenance, and palsied hands ; 
 So startled David at th' unlook'd for sight 
 Of that which some would gaze on with delight, 
 Th' imperial crown ; by which he surely knew, 
 That what the fellow told him was too true. 
 Grief seiz'd his spirit. He with garments torn, 
 Together with his men, for Saul did mourn. 
 For Saul he mourn'd, though Saul to him had been 
 A fiercer foe, than any Philistine. 
 
 For Saul he mourn'd, though Saul his life had sought, 
 And him into extremest dangers brought. 
 For Saul he mourn'd, though by the death of Saul, 
 He knew the kingdom unto him would fall. 
 Thus gen'rous minds, e'en with their enemies, 
 In adverse fortunes can't but sympathize, 
 
 For Jonathan as for an only brother. 
 Or as a virgin for her constant lover : 
 So mourned he. For 'twixt them two had past 
 A friendship, tfeat beyond the grave mart last. 
 Immortal friendship ! never two were twin'd 
 More close ; they had two bodies ; but one mind, 
 Patrocles to Achilles was less dear; 
 Hylas to Hercules not half so near. 
 Not Pylades did more Orestes love : 
 Nor Damon to his Pythias truer prove. 
 To Pirithous more close not Theseus 
 Did cleave ; nor Nisus to Euryalus ; 
 Than did to David princely Jonathan, 
 From the blest day their friendship first began, ^ 
 Their souls were so commix'd, that none could teh 
 ich lov'd most truly ; either lov'd so well. 
 
 J©na$&n'* 
 
76 DAVIDEIS. Book Iff. 
 
 Jonathan's love to David strongly ran, 
 And David's flow'd as strong to Jonathan. 
 So that, e'en yet, we, in a proverb have it, 
 (Strong as the loves of Jonathan and David) 
 'Twas for his friend ; for such a friend, as man 
 Scarce had before : 'Twas for his Jonathan 
 That David moum'd. And who enough could moan 
 The death, untimely death, of such a one. 
 But, from particulars, his grief did call 
 To mourning, for the tribes' in general. 
 The house of Israel" was wounded deep, 
 What Israelite could hear it, and not weep ! 
 Not weep a flood ! the people of the Lord 
 Are fallen by the uncircumcised's sword. 
 This to his sorrow set the flood gates ope, 
 And to his melting grief gave boundless scd*pe. 
 - Nor would his single sorrow serve the turn, 
 Bur - 1 ! his men together with him mourn. 
 Saul s death and Jonathan's he did not fail, 
 In most pathetick language to bewail : 
 But sure* the stifling grief, that filPd his breast 
 For Isr'el, could not be in words exprest. 
 
 When sorrow now its force had somewhat spent, 
 And flowing tears to grief had given vent, 
 The messenger who did the tidings bring, 
 Having contest that he did kill the king, 
 Was, self-convi6ted, unto death appointed, 
 And kill'd, for having slain the Lord's anointed. 
 That Justice done, David from Ziklag rose, 
 By God's direction ; and to Hebron goes* 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 HAIL ! noble hero, favourite of heaven, 
 To whom a royal diadarais given ! 
 Welcome to Hebron ! lo, thy people bring 
 Their presents to their new-elected king, 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 77 
 
 • No sooner was it known, that Jesse's son 
 Had Ziklag left, and was to Hebron gone ; 
 But Judah's nobles thither did resort : 
 And, with a splendid train, did fill his court. 
 Judah, the tribe to which he did belong : 
 Judah, the tribe of all the tribes most strong. 
 
 The men of Judah, as with one consent, 
 From all their cities unto Hebron went. 
 They went, with hearts full of affection freight, 
 His safe arrivai to congratulate. 
 No sooner met, but David they instal 
 King over Judah in the room of Saul. 
 The sacred oil they on his temples shed, 
 And set the imperial crown upon his head. 
 The court they make and all the city ring 
 With joyful acclamations to their king. 
 
 Scarce were the coronation triumphs o'er, 
 Scarce the new king his diadem had wore ; 
 When he again must draw his late sheath'd sword, 
 Short are the joys external things afford. 
 
 A son of Saul's surviv'd his father's death, 
 Twice twenty years of age, nam'd Ishbosheth. 
 Him Abner did to Mahanaim brhig, 
 And o'er the house of Isr'el made him king. 
 
 Thus Israel and Judah were divided, 
 Whilst either party with their own king sided. 
 Hence civil Avars between the tribes arose, 
 And former friends degen'rate into foes. 
 They that were link'd by nature, and by grace, 
 Each other now in hostile manner chase ; 
 The sword devoureth kin on either side, 
 And Hebrews hands in Hebrews blood are dy'd. 
 
 When long these hateful civil wars had lasted. 
 And Israel's strength was thereby greatly wasted, 
 (For weaker grew the hfluse of Saul, the longer 
 Tii." w*ar endur'd, and David's house grew stronger) 
 
 i awful providence, by means unthought, 
 Tlit.war,, and faction, to a period brought. 
 
 To 
 
*78 DAVIDEIS. Book III. 
 
 To Rizpah, who had been Saul's concubine, 
 'Twas thought that Abner did too much incline ; 
 This Ishbosheth resenting with disdain, 
 Charg'd Abner that with Rizpah he had lain. 
 High-stomach'd Abner, who could nothing brook 
 That touch'd his honour, such displeasure took 
 At this reproach, that he resolv'd to bring 
 All Israel over unto Judah's king. 
 Nor would he in a covert manner go 
 To work : but boldly told his master so. 
 Forthwith to David messengers he sent 
 To make his peace ; and then in person went 
 To Hebron ; after he had first inclin'd 
 The Isr'elitish princes to his mind. 
 
 Him David graciously receiv'd, and made 
 A royal entertainment while he staid ; 
 And then in peace dkmiss'd him, to effect 
 The grand affair which Abner did proje6t. 
 
 Not f;r from Hebron yet was Abner gone 
 When Joab enter'd (David's sister's son) 
 Who, on some military enterprize, 
 Had absent been, against the enemies, 
 With David's men of war (for, over all 
 His uncle's forces he was general) 
 And having given his enemy the foil, 
 Was just returned laden with the spoil. 
 
 When Joab heard that Abner had been there 
 Receiv'd and sent away again with care, 
 His passion rose so high, it made him fling 
 Undutiful reflections on his king. 
 Zeal he pretended for his prince's state ; 
 But underneath did lurk revenge and hate, 
 For 'twas not long before, at Gibeon fight, 
 That Abner and his men being put to flight, 
 Asahel, Joab's brother, him so hard 
 Pursu'd, that Abner, standing on his guard, 
 Ir's own defence, and sore against his will, 
 To save himself, was fore'd the youth to kill, 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 
 
 His brother's blood, in Joab's eye still reeks, 
 And he a season to revenge it seeks, 
 
 He after Abner sends, in David's name 
 (Unknown to David) to return. — He came. 
 Deceitful Joab receiv'd him at the gate, 
 (With feigned kindness, hiding inward hate) 
 ' As if he had some secret to impart, 
 Took him aside, and stabb'd him to the heart. 
 
 Thus fell the valiant Abner, thus did lie 
 A brave commander, through base treachery. 
 Thus princely Joab did his honour stain 
 With Abner' s noble blood, ignobly slain. 
 
 When unto David's ear the news was brought, 
 Of the foul murder, by his nephew wrought. 
 It pierc'd his royal heart : apt words he lack'd 
 To speak his just abhorrence of the fa£t : 
 Yet, in unstrained terms, himself he freed 
 From being conscious of so foul a deed. 
 
 " I, and my kingdom, guiltless are, he said, 
 " Of Abner's blood ; on Joab be it laid ! 
 *' And may it on his house for ever rest ! 
 " May sword or famine him and his infest ! 
 <l May his posterity be never free 
 " From leprous ulcer, or infirmity ! 
 
 Then for the funeral he order gave, 
 And wept a show'r of tears on Abner's grave ; 
 Joab to rend his cloaths, he did command, 
 And at the grave, begirt with sackcloth, stand. 
 After the bier himself in mourning went, 
 And, in an elegy, his grief did vent ; 
 The people join their tears ; o'er Abrrer weep, 
 And, for his death, a solemn mourning keep. 
 
 CHAP. 
 H 
 
80 DAVIDEIS. Book III. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 TOO late did Ishbosheth his error find, 
 In having alienated Abner's mind 
 From his affairs ; too late did he repent 
 His hasty rashness, when he saw th' event. 
 
 *Twas, not without good cause, that nature set 
 A double guard before the tongue ; and yet 
 That nimble member ('tis too often found) 
 Nor lips, nor teeth can keep within its bound : 
 But out it breaks. A few unwary words 
 More mischief do, than twice as many swords, 
 Saul's inconsiderate son, 'tis like, ne'er thought 
 His taunt would such a dire effect have wrought* 
 But martial spirits no affront can brook. 
 That on their honour, like a stain doth look. 
 And therefore even kings themselves had need, 
 How they their subjects disoblige, take heed. 
 
 When fame had sounded Abner's hasty death 
 Into the ears of drooping Ishbosheth, 
 A trembling seiz'd him, and his spirits fail ; 
 His hands grew feeble, and his face grew pale ; 
 And he, though yet no danger did appear, 
 Himself abandon'd to unmanly fear ; 
 This abject mind made some neglect him more, 
 Who did not over value him before. 
 
 Two sons of R-immon (the Beerothite, 
 The off-spring of the wily Gibeonite) 
 Were under Ishbosheth, in some command ; 
 Each was, peihaps, the captain of a band; 
 Ti cr.c, by some means, intelligence had got, 
 Tl Isr'ePs princes a revolt did plot, 
 And hoping to advance their fortunes higher, 
 For David, did against their lord conspire. 
 • prince in to his chamber had retir'd 
 . at noon, the sultry clime required : 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 81 
 
 And, being both with heat and grief oprest, 
 
 Had thrown himself upon his bed to rest. 
 
 The resolute assassins thither came 
 
 (One Baanah stil'd, Rechab the other's name.) 
 
 Poor Ishbosheth, asleep supinely lay ; 
 
 Him on his bed, the traitors basely slay , 
 
 Then, from his bleeding corps, his head they take ; 
 
 And, thro' the plain, with speed for Hebron make. 
 
 Arriv'd, to David forthwith they address, 
 And in such terms as these, themselves express, 
 Behold, great prince, the head of Ishbosheth, 
 The son of Saul, thy foe, who sought thy death. 
 And instantly the mangled head they shew'd, 
 A ghastly sight, in purple gore imbru'd ! 
 The sight struck horror in the standers by, 
 But indignation flam'd in David's eye. 
 He paus'd ; then with a tone that made them quake, 
 To this effect, he to the traitors spake. 
 
 " As the Lord lives who hath my soul, laith he, 
 " Redeemed out of all adversity 
 4 * When one to Ziklag came, and tidings brought 
 ** That Saul was dead (who, for his tidings thought, 
 " He at my hand, a good reward should gain ) 
 " I caus'd him to be seized on, and slain. 
 u How much more then, when wicked men have sfaec! 
 *' A righteous person's blood, upon his bed, 
 M In his own house : shall I not now require 
 " Of you his blood ; and make your death ycur hire :"' 
 
 This said, at his command, his ready guard 
 The treason, with the traitors death, reward. 
 Their hands and feet cut off, upon a spear 
 Were hang'd in public, to make others 
 This justice done to Ishbosheth, his head 
 In Abner's sepulchre was buried. 
 
 The Isr'elitish elders, who before 
 To David did incline, do now much more. 
 Their way is open'd by th' untimely death 
 Of their own king, unhappy Ishbosheth* 
 
 • Their 
 
32 DAVIDEIS. Book Iff. 
 
 "heir Journey tlierefore they to Hebron take, 
 And to this purpose unto David spake. 
 
 Behold, great prince, thy bone and flesh are we; 
 And e'en while Saul was king, yet thou wast he 
 That led us out, and brought us in again : 
 Be pleased therefore over us to reign, 
 For God hath said, thou shalt my people feed : 
 And be a captain over Isr'el's seed. 
 
 Their message David, with majestic grace, 
 Receiv'd and all the elders did embrace. 
 A solemn league before the Lord they make, 
 That he not them, nor they should him forsake. 
 Then forth the consecrated oil they bring, 
 And over Israel anoint him king. 
 AH hearts are glad. Joy reigns in ev'ry eye, 
 Which shouts, and public triumphs, testify. 
 The vocal Nymph the news to fame reports, 
 "Whose trumpet sounds it into foreign courts. 
 
 When the Solemnities were at an end, 
 Which on the coronation did attend, 
 And all things settled ; the twice crowned king 
 A royal army to the field did bring : 
 
 .■with th' insulting Jebu sites he beat, 
 And made Jerusalem his royal seat ; 
 The Philistines he smote, who were so bold, 
 To co-.v j and brave him, even in his hold. 
 The Moabites he fully did subdue, 
 And mighty Hadadezer overthrew. 
 The Edomites he tributary made, 
 And Syria having smarted, was afraid. 
 Abusive Ammon he chastis'd, and tam'd, 
 And, for his prowess, through "the east was fan 
 
 And yet not more for that, than for his love 
 To Jonathan, which did itself approve 
 J.onrr after Jonathan, unhappy prince. 
 In battle fell ; not for his own offence, 
 But for his father's. Friendship that is brave 
 Doth death survive ; and lives beyond the grave. 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 
 
 David, now having got a little rest, 
 Bethinks him how his love may be exprest 
 To Jonathan, his dear deceased friend, 
 In his posterity : and, to that end, 
 Enquires, if any yet remain 'd of all 
 Descended from the family of Saul, 
 To whom he, for the sake of Jonathan, 
 Might kindness shew. They call to mind a man 
 Whose name was Ziba : him they seek, and bring- 
 To court ; and straightway he inform'd the king- 
 That Jonathan had yet a son, by name 
 Mephibosheth, who of his feet was lame. 
 For he, poor child, when tidings came that Saul 
 And Jonathan were slain, receiv'd a fall 
 Out of his nurse's arms ; when, in the fright, 
 She sought to save him by too hasty flight, 
 By which disaster he, alas ! became 
 A cripple ever ; both his feet were lame. 
 
 Him David sent for ; and, with special grace- 
 Receiving, did at his own table place : 
 Assuring him, he, for his father's sake, 
 Like care of him, as of his own would take. 
 Then all his grandfather's and father's lands 
 Restoring to him : Ziba he commands 
 To take the charge thereof ; the land to till, 
 And make the best oft, to his utmost skill j 
 And bring the profits to his master's son, 
 That he, in handsome port, might live thereon. 
 
 Mephibosheth, with kindness overcome, 
 Though lame in feet, was neither rude, nor durnjp, 
 But, both by gesture, and expression, shew'd 
 The highest marks of humble gratitude. 
 
 H 2 
 
84 DAVIDEIS. Book III. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 THE highest pitch of honour now attain'd 
 By David, and the sov'reign power gain'd J 
 Thrice had the consecrating oil been shed, 
 In solemn wise, on his majestick head. 
 His temples cincturd with a double crown, 
 The house of Saul, his rivial quite brought down, 
 His enemies of him did stand in awe, 
 And to his Neighbours round he gave the law. 
 His arms brought conquest home. His very name 
 Struck terror, where his armies never came. 
 Secure he sat, upon his awful trigone : 
 By others fear'd : beloved by his own. 
 All things, to make him happy, did conspire, 
 in want of nothing reason could desire. 
 
 But how unsafe is greatness ! ah, how nigh 
 Unto prosperity doth danger lie ! 
 
 'ling pleasures do on grcatnesss wait, 
 ice still lurking lies at pleasure's gate. 
 If in it slips (and hard it is, I doubt, 
 Where pleasures have free course, to keep it out) 
 Virtue it doth insensibly destroy, 
 And brings forth treble grief for single joy. 
 This David found ; and e'er he was aware, 
 taken and betray 'd in pleasure's snare. 
 
 It came to pass, one evening, when the heat 
 ited was (which, in that clime, was great) 
 That David from his easeful bed arose ; 
 And to his palace roof for air he goes. 
 There walking to and fro, his wand'ring eye 
 A naked woman, bathing, did espy. 
 
 The sight surpriz'd him. Yet he pleasure took,, 
 On that aitraclive object still to look : 
 For scarcely had he* seen so fine a creature, 
 For shape, complexion, and for lovely feature. 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 85 
 
 Poor David's nature now set all on fire, 
 His breast enflaming with undue desire, 
 He look'd and burnt ; he burnt and look'd again, 
 Nor power had from looking to refrain. 
 His eyes betray 'd his heart. Now yield lie must 
 Himself a captive to unruly lust. 
 
 Ah ! how unsafe it is to let the eye 
 Into the privacies o£ women pry ! 
 How dangerous to let the devil catch ! 
 The mind a roving, from its inward watch ! 
 David was guarded strong enough, no doubt, 
 To hinder any mischief from without, 
 But he that will secured be from sin, 
 Must keep a strict and constant guard within. 
 
 Now all his thoughts poor David doth employ, 
 The party how to find, and to enjoy. $£** 
 He makes inquiry ; and doth quickly fmd 
 One, that knew both the woman, and his mind. 
 By him he understood, the beauteous dame 
 Was Ammiel's daughter : Bathsheba her name. 
 And that she was the brave "Uriah's wife, 
 (Uriah lov'd her as he lov'd his life) 
 This known, the king, impatient of delay, 
 Sends messengers : the woman they betray, 
 And bring her to him. She by him conceives-; 
 And then, returning home, the palace leaves. 
 
 How miserable is that prince's state, 
 On whom a set of parasites do wait ! 
 How sad is his condition who must trust 
 Such as will pander to his lawless lust. 
 Had they, whom David sent the dame to bring, 
 Been worthy of a place about a king ; 
 They would have run the hazard of his blame, 
 To save their master from so foul a shame. 
 They would have represented to his view 
 That odious evil in its proper hue. 4 
 They would have try'd all means ; have strove, have" 
 ', rather than have aded, disobey'd. [p ra y'^» 
 
 But 
 
86 DAVIDEIS. Book III. 
 
 But ah ! such faithful courtiers are as rare, 
 As crows in streams, or fishes in the air. 
 
 No help from his had David, they he sent 
 Were, in so bad a work, too diligent. 
 He spake the word, they ran ; their errand tell : 
 Prevail, the woman bring ; by her he fell, 
 He fell, who had such high attainments known, 
 To whom such special favours God had shown. 
 He who so late before the ark did dance, 
 Now could not stand against a woman's glance. 
 Surpriz'd by a temptation, down he fell ; 
 Who the sweet singer was of Israel. 
 He, from the holy path, aside did start ; 
 Who once a man was after God's own. heart. 
 
 Ah ! who can hope, when such men fall, to stand 
 V/ithout an eminent supporting hand ! 
 Our life's a war : temptations all assail : 
 And without strong resistance, will prevail. 
 Not kings, we see, can stand ; however good 
 They are, when once they yield to flesh and blood. 
 
 After fair Bathsheba had been at home 
 Time long enough to know, her fruitful womb 
 (By which she was not apt to be beguil'd) 
 Gave her assurance, that she was with child* 
 Forthwith she private notice thereof sent 
 To David ; public scandal to prevent. 
 This put poor David to his shifts to find 
 How he the husband, and the world might blind. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 MEAN while Uriah from his home had "been,. 
 Seeking immortal fame, by arms to win. 
 Him David strait *vay sent for home, that he 
 A cloak to the 
 
 Unthinking that he thea ; - . .00 late, 
 To cover an amour of such a date. 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 87 
 
 No sooner good Uriah did receive 
 The king's command ; but forthwith taking leave 
 Of Joab, to the court his course he bent, 
 And to his sovereign did himself present, 
 The king enquires : Uriah doth relate 
 Both Joab's welfare, and the army's state. 
 
 When he had made an end, and night came on, * 
 The king (impatient till he saw him gone) 
 Dismist him ; and advis'd him haste to make 
 Down to his house ; and there refreshment take. 
 
 Then from his presence forth Uriah went ; 
 And after him a royal mess was sent ; 
 The king concluding he would home repair, 
 Himself to solace with his (faulty) fair. 
 
 No farther went Uriah than the gate 
 Of David's house, where servants us'd to wait ; 
 With whom, his old acquaintance, he consorts, 
 And unto them the war's success reports. 
 When bed time came, amongst the guards he kept, 
 And soldier-like, amongst the soldiers slept. 
 
 Troubled was David, when he heard, by some 
 Next morn, Uriah had not been at home. 
 Yet hiding what he could, his discontent, 
 He for Uriah to his presence sent : 
 And with a seeming pity, when he came, 
 Him, in such words as these, did gently blame : 
 
 " What- was the matter, over-hardy knight, 
 " Thou wentest not down unto thy house last night ; 
 " Cam'st thou not from the journey, tir'd and spent ? 
 " Why art thou of thy thyself so negligent ? 
 " I thought thou might'st have borne a bed less hard, 
 " Than are the matted benches of my guard. 
 " I therefore sent thee home, to take thy rest, 
 " Where I suppos'd thou might enjoy it best. 
 " Hereafter of thyself more careful be, 
 u Thou thinks not what thy loss would be to me." 
 
 With humble thanks, Uriah thus reply'd, 
 Isr'el and Judah, with the ark abide 
 
 la 
 
?8 DAVIDELS. Book III, 
 
 In tents : lord Joab lieth, with his men, 
 In open fields encamped. • Shall I then 
 Go to my house to eat, and merry make, 
 And pleasure in my wife's embraces take ? 
 The Lord forbid ! as lives thy soul, O king, 
 I will not be persuaded to this thing ; 
 I shun whatever courage would abate, 
 Soft pleasures do the mind effeminate. 
 
 Thus spake Uriah. „ And let none suppose 
 It dropp'd by chance ; or from a soldier rose : 
 But needfully observe it, with an eye, 
 That can, through words, a providence descry. 
 For God was hedging David's way about ; 
 That David's guilt might, to his shame break out. 
 
 When David had Uriah's answer weigh'd, 
 He plainly saw, unless he were betray'd, 
 He never shoi.ld by him efiect the end, 
 For which he for him., from the camp, did send. 
 New measures therefore David r.cw doth take : 
 Contrives how he Uriah drunk may make ; 
 Looks on him with a more familiar face ; 
 And now receives him into special grace. 
 So stems he in Uriah to take delight, 
 i f he were the only favourite. 
 
 His feigned kindness quickly grew so great, 
 That now Uriah must with David eat. 
 He makes him drink, and drink, and drink ag 
 Till* with rich wines, he overcharg'd his brain. 
 Thus sin to sin, thus guilt he adds to guilt : 
 Nor stops until Uriah's blood be spilt. «.* 
 
 ts the allow'd commis ion of a si i, 
 Net 5 to let another in. 
 
 i now is drunk ; the grapy juice 
 Hath cf his reason robb'd him of the use. 
 \VTtl am'd, who would have tho't 
 
 But he his wife's embraces would have sought ? 
 
 : neither drunk nor sober, could he be 
 Peimiaded either house, or wife to see. , 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 89 
 
 But with the guards at night again he lay ; 
 And snoring slept his drunkenness away. 
 
 The king now hopeless, and enraged to think 
 That neither by his flattery nor drink, 
 He could his end obtain ; and harder grown 
 (For sin repeated, hardens any one) 
 Resolves at last, a desp'rate course to try ; 
 And murder join unto adultery. , 
 No way to save his honour did remain, 
 He thought, unless he got Uriah slain. 
 For since he found that, not by any wile, 
 He the resolv'd Uriah could beguile : 
 He saw that, if he suffer'd him to live, 
 He never would the injury forgive : 
 But, if not seek revenge, at least proclaim 
 The wrong he suffer'd ; and his princes shame. 
 Thus reason'd David ; on this policy 
 The king concludes, Uriah needs must die. 
 He, that had suffer'd too much wrong before, 
 Lest that discover'd be, must suffer more. 
 Uriah's guiltless blood must now be spilt, 
 To make a covering for David's guilt. 
 But oh ! the guilt of guiltless blood thus shed, 
 Will fall, with treble weight, on David's head. 
 All ! what is man, the best of men when left 
 Unto himself, of grace divine bereft ! 
 
 To Joab David doth a letter write, 
 Commanding him that in the hottest fight 
 He should Uriah, in the fore-front, place ; 
 And, when he is engag'd, retire a-pace : 
 Leaving him single in the open plain, 
 That, by the enemy, he may be slain. 
 
 The letter which contain'd this dire command, 
 Is sent to Joab, by Uriah's hand ; 
 Uriah, void of jealousy and fear, 
 fatal Letter doth to Joab bear, 
 
 own death the instrument he's made, 
 -asily is innoceacy betray 'd ! 
 
00 DAVIDEIS. Book HL 
 
 So when Bellephoron, whose milder fate 
 Did unto him prove more propitiate. 
 
 When Joab understood his master's mind, 
 He to Uriah such a place assign'd, 
 Where, by experience, he before had found 
 Were valiant men that would defend their ground, 
 Then falling back, there left them to maintain 
 The fight alone ; so was Uriah slain. 
 
 Thus the brave Hittite, by a plot fore laid, 
 Valiantly ii gluing, basely was betray 'd. 
 The first, perhaps, that ever lost his life. 
 Tor not embracing his most beauteous wife. 
 
 With speed Uriah's death is signify'd 
 To David, who his joy could hardly hide. 
 Uriah's widow, when she heard the news, 
 Put on the mourning weeds that widows use, 
 And mourn'd the time. Then David took the dame 
 Home to his house ; and she his wife became. 
 Nor was it long before she bore a son 
 But God was sore displeased with what was done, 
 
 CHAP IX. 
 
 NOW all was hush'd and still. Uriah dead, 
 His wife translated to king David's bed. 
 No more by stealth ; but now with open face, 
 The \c,\ iji king doth Bathsheba embrace. 
 Before his courtiers doth her court, and kiss : 
 And", without blushing, dares to call her his. 
 Uriah's b'k.od tli' adult'ry out did blot, 
 And hew chat blood was shed is now forgot. 
 Dissoh'o i: melting pleasures David lies, 
 And fivm th' Avenger, in himself, he flies. 
 
 Remorse was lost. Hardness had enter' d in, 
 Sensur.l de3 i drown'd the sense of sin. 
 
 But David s Goc (u,e God who David chose, 
 And David lov'd) would not his David lose. 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 91 
 
 For though a strong- temptation had prevaiPd 
 And David, sway'd thereby, had grosly fail'd : 
 Yet he, who hearts doth search, and reins doth try. 
 Saw yet in David a sincerity. 
 
 A prophet therefore God did send to rouze 
 The stupid king from his lethargick drowze. 
 
 O boundless goodness ! O unmeasur'd love ! 
 Which did the bowels of the father move 
 Towards his erring child. He condescends : 
 And the first motion makes, for being friends. 
 Th* offended uses means, to raise a sense 
 In the offender, of his foul offence : 
 That, on repentance, he may mercy show : 
 And reconciliation thence may flow. 
 
 Th' inspired prophet, thus to David sent, 
 Did, by a harmless wile, him circumvent : 
 And having in a parable him caught, 
 The king to be his own condemner brought. 
 
 " Two men, said he, did in one city dwell : 
 " One very poor, and one in wealth did swell ; 
 " The rich, of flocks and herds had plenteous store, 
 " The poor man had, in all the world no more 
 * s But one small ewe-lamb, which he bought and fed> 
 " And choicely, with his children, nourished. 
 " Of his own cup it drank ; and for its meat, 
 " He grudg'd it not the same himself did eat. 
 ** "He let it in his bosom lie at night : 
 " For, as a daughter, 'twas his chief delight. 
 u Now when a stranger to the rich man came 
 " To visit him ; so void was he of shame, 
 *' That sparing all his own, he took and drest 
 " The poor man's lamb, to entertain his guest." 
 
 With stricl attention did King David hear 
 The prophet's tale. Then made it soon appear, 
 How quick, his sense was of the poor man's wrong : 
 And what to the rich oppressor did belong. 
 Against the man his hot displeasure brake, 
 And to prophet Nathan thus he spake : 
 
 I ** As 
 
92 DAVIDEIS. Book III. 
 
 " As lives the Lord, let him be e'er so high, 
 " The man, that this hath done, shall surely die. 
 " Nay death shall not suffice, but furthermore, 
 " He four times over shall the lamb restore : 
 " Because that, having plenty of his own, 
 " He did this thing, and hath no pity shewn." 
 So spake the king. But little thought, alas 1 
 That he the sentence on himself did pass. 
 
 How partial is the nature of mankind ! 
 Quick-sighted at another's fault ; but blind 
 Unto our own ! ourselves how apt to spare, 
 But unto others how severe we are ! 
 He that could, with an over-hasty breath, 
 For a less fault, pronounce another's death : 
 Could just before abuse his neighbour's wife ; 
 And him, without remorse, deprive of life. 
 
 No sooner -<lid the heavy sentence come. 
 From David's lips, but Nathan set it home. 
 Disguises laid aside, the seer began : 
 Mv message is to thee. — Thou art the man ! 
 
 How great was now the guilty king's surprize ) 
 Might ha\e been seen in his dejected eyes. 
 His conscious blood into his face did flush, 
 And brought upon his cheeks a scarlet blush J 
 Which lasted not, but in a while did fail ; 
 And was succeeded by a fainty pale. 
 As if the guiltless blood he lately spilt, 
 Had thither flow'd, to evidence his guilt. 
 And then retiring, back again had fled, 
 To shew the stained ground, where it was shed. 
 A great disorder in his face appear d ; 
 As well from what he felt, as what he fear'd ; 
 His hair's, like one that had the palsy, shook ; 
 His trembling knees against each other strook. 
 Silent he sat ; his spirit almost gone : 
 While the inspired prophet thus went on. 
 
 " Thus saith the Lord, the God of Israel, 
 " (Who in most awful majesty dcth dwell) 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS. 93 
 
 u I over Isr'el thee appointed king, 
 
 ** And out of all thy troubles thee did bring. 
 
 " Out of the hand of Saul I thee did save, 
 
 " And unto thee thy master's house I gave. 
 
 " Into thine arms thy master's wives I cast, 
 
 " And to thee Isr'el made, and Judah, fast : 
 
 ** And if all this had been too small a store, 
 
 u T would have added such and such things more. 
 
 " Why then didst thou the Lord's command despise, 
 
 " To do the thing that's evil in his eyes ? 
 
 " Uriah thou, with Amnon's sword, hast slain, 
 
 {t And with his wife, as with thine own, hast lain. 
 
 " Now, therefore, never shall thy house be free 
 
 ** From sword ; because thou hast despised me ; 
 
 " (Who, from the sheep-cot, set thee on the throne) 
 
 " And took Uriah's wife to be thy own. 
 
 " Thus saith the Lord, behold, I'll evil raise, 
 " Out of thy house, against thee, divers .ways. 
 " Thy wives, before thine eves, I'll from thee take ; 
 *' And let thy neighbour strumpets of them make. 
 " He with thy wives, in open view, sliall lie : 
 " Regardless who looks on, or who stands by* 
 " Thou secretly hast wrought, and in the dark, 
 " But I will on thee set a public mark. 
 " For I will cause this justice to be done 
 Ai Before all Isr'el, and before the Sun." 
 
 This said the prophet stopp'd. The wounded king, 
 (Who of his guilt now felt the piercing sting) 
 Defence had none to make : no art did use, 
 His foul offence to palliate, or excuse. 
 But fetching from his very inmost part, 
 A doleful groan, which seem'd to rend his heart ; 
 His quiv'ring lips let fall this mournful word, 
 Ah me ! I sinned have against the Lord ; 
 A sigh the sentence clos'd ; a sigh that came 
 So warmly out, it might his lips inflame : 
 But that his melting eyes a plenteous show'r 
 Of tears upon his cheeks and beard did pour. 
 
 i 
 
94 DAyiDEIS. Book III. 
 
 Short the confession was. Yet that it flow'd 
 From a true penitent, the accent show'd. 
 It reach'd the prophet's heart, and gain'd belief 
 Of the sincerity of David's grief. 
 For God repentance, if it be sincere, 
 Accepts, though short in words, it doth appear, 
 
 Such David's was ; yet was it not in vain, 
 The gladded prophet alter's now his strain ; 
 And with an healing word, doth thus begin : 
 " The Lord hath also put away thy sin ; 
 " Thou shalt not die." Oh ! who would be so base, 
 To sin again such undeserved grace ! 
 " Howbeit (thus the prophet did proceed) 
 " Because thou great occasion, by this deed, 
 " Has given wicked men, the Lord to scorn ; 
 " The spurious child, who unto thee is born, 
 " Shall surely die," his word was verify'd : 
 For, on the seventh day, the infant dy'd. 
 
 The prophet now, his message fully done, 
 Had left the king ; and to his house was gone, 
 But what he, from the Lord, had to him said, 
 On David's heart a deep impression made. 
 His conscience, which before did slumb'ring lye, 
 Now, throughly waken'd, in his face did fly, 
 And charg'cl him home. He felt the wounds within,, 
 Which, on his bleeding hear!:, were made by sin. 
 
 Ah ! who his grinding sorrows* can express ! 
 Or speak the hundreth part of his distress ! 
 His galling grief, his r/rty-rnovings moans ! 
 His deep-fetch'd signs and his heart-rending groans ! 
 Himself, we find, could not deliver these, 
 Without the help of great hyperboles. 
 
 Hew earnest was he ! with what fervency, 
 Unto his God, did he for pardon cry ! 
 " Have mercy on me, O my God, he cry'd : 
 " And for my sins thy face, not from me, hide, 
 « Purge me with Hyssop, cleanse me from my sin : 
 " And wash me throughly, from all guilt, within. 
 
Book III. DAVIDEIS, 95 
 
 " Create in me a clean heart, and renew 
 " Within me, Lord, a spirit right and true. 
 " O from thy presence cast me not away , 
 " Nor take thy spirit from me, Lord, I pray. 
 i( With thy free spirit me uphold. Restore 
 " The joy of thy salvation, as before." 
 
 Such moving supplications day and night 
 Did he pour forth ; which I nor can recite, 
 Nor need ; for he hath couch'd them in such verse, 
 As my short winded muse cannot rehearse. 
 Suffice it therefore, that the reader know, 
 He did not pray in vain ; but prayed so, 
 That he not only pardon did obtain ; 
 But his lost favour did with God regain. 
 God grant, whoever sins like him, may be 
 As true a contrite penitent, as he. 
 
 THE END OF THE THIRD BOOJS. 
 
 DAVIDFTS 
 I 2 
 
DA VI DEIS, 
 
 BOOK IV, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THO* the sharp sentence, which, in too great haste, 
 TV unwitting king upon himself had plac'd, 
 Was mitigated by the clemency 
 Of David's God ; that David might not die : 
 Yet did the prophet, in God's name declare, 
 That he would evil against him prepare j 
 Which should in his own family arise, 
 And on him bring the sorest exercise. 
 
 This was the doom, tho' more at large exprest, 
 By which poor David was to be distrest. 
 Which (though protracted, yet) would certain be: 
 For who can alter a divine decree ? 
 Judgment denoune'd may linger : but at length, 
 They fall more heavy, and with greater strength. 
 Sometimes the stroke doth at a distance stand : 
 Yet that which brings it on is near at hand. 
 So, in this case, some years did intervene, 
 Betwixt the sentence, and the tragick scene ; 
 Yet that which led thereto did closely lurk, 
 And, in short time, did thus bring on the work. 
 
 Of all the many sons which David had, 
 Amnon the eldest was ; a topping lad, 
 Who of the Jezreelite, Ahinoam, 
 Was born, soon after she to Hebron came. 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 97 
 
 A daughter also David had, whose name 
 Was Tamar ; a most beautiful young dame, 
 Sister she was to Absalom the fair, 
 David's third son ; so noted for his hair. 
 
 On this half sister-princess, Amnon cast 
 A wanton eye. Affection grew so fast 
 Upon him, that, net daring to discover 
 For shame, or fear, what an unlawful lover 
 He was ; he pin'd away, his cheeks grew pale, 
 His flesh did waste, his strength began to fail. 
 The fiery passion, in his bosom pent, 
 Did inward burn, for want of outward vent. 
 
 A friend he had, who unto him was near 
 Of kin ; a friend peculiarly dear : 
 His father's brother's son, nam'd Jonadab, 
 Quick sighted, and too wise to be a blab. 
 
 He, well observing how, from day to day, 
 His princely kinsman pin'd and fell awa ; : 
 For which since he no outward cause could find, 
 Concluded something did afflict his mind. 
 Wherefore, a proper season having got, 
 He put the question close ; enquiring what 
 It was, that on his nature did prevail, 
 So as to make his countenance look pale, 
 And flesh decay ; imploring not to hide 
 Aught from his friend ; in whom he might confide. 
 
 Prince Amnon, by his friend thus closely prest, 
 His love, tho' not without a blush, confest, 
 The princess Tamar 'tis, said he I love, 
 Oh, that my love should so eccentrick move ! 
 I love my own half sister, who dtfLspring 
 From the same root, as I myself^Rhe king. 
 I love, ah me ! I love ; yet love in va.ni ; 
 Hopeless the object of my love to gain. 
 This is my case. The heat of my desire 
 Consumes my nature ; sets me all on fire. 
 
 When Jonadab (than whom no man alive 
 Knew better how a mischief to contrive) 
 
 Had 
 
98 DAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 Had heard the case ; he soon discover'd what 
 Would Amnon please ; and thus he laid the plot. 
 
 Go take thy bed, said he, and (for a trick) 
 Put on thy night cap. Feign that thou art sick. ' 
 And when thy father comes to see thee, say, 
 Give leave, I pray, my sister Tamar may 
 Come to me ; and before me dress some meat : 
 That, seeing her prepare it, I may eat. 
 
 He went no farther. For, he knew, the prince 
 Was quick enough, to understand his sense. 
 And if he could but draw the long'd for dame 
 Within his reach, knew how to quench his flame. 
 
 Amnon, the council liking, forthwith took 
 His bed upon it ; and, with puling look, 
 Dissembled sickness. Quickly the Report 
 Of Amnon's illness reached the royal court. 
 
 The king, in haste, to Amnon doth repair, 
 To see his ailing son, the kingdom's heir, 
 This gave fair room for Amnon to request, 
 He might eat something by his sister drest. 
 The king consents ; and doth his mind declare, 
 That Tamar should to Amnon's house repair : 
 And there, by his direction dress such meat 
 For him, as he, poor heart ! could like to eat. 
 
 The princess Tamar did no sooner hear 
 Her father's order, but, with filial fear, 
 And nimble steps, she to her brother hies, 
 Who, on his bed. dissembling sickness, lies. 
 She ask'd him how he did : and did bemoan 
 His danger. But more justly might her own. 
 The courteous mein, fresh beauty of the dame, 
 Did more and more the letcher's lust inflame. 
 She ask'd him what he'd please to have her make 
 For him to eat : he pitch'd upon a cake. 
 She to the work address'd herself with haste ; 
 Temper'd the flour, and wrought it into paste. 
 Her milk white hands, and slender fingers frame 
 The pliant paste, till it a cake became. 
 
Book IV. DAV1DEIS. 99 
 
 Then having bak'd it also at his fire, 
 (Each turn and motion height'ning his desire) 
 She brought it to him. But he put it by : 
 His room was overfill'd with company. 
 But order given that it clear'd should be, 
 And none left in it, but himself and she ; 
 He then requested, that she would draw near, 
 And bring the mess. She did so, without fear, 
 But when, alas ! within his reach she came, 
 He laid fast hold upon the lovely dame : 
 Then taking her about the neck, he kiss'd her, 
 And bluntly said, come, lie with me, my sister. 
 
 Surpriz'd, the damsel trembled : and wculd fain 
 Have from him got : she strove but strove in vain \ 
 He held her fast. She then began to plead ; 
 And, for her honour, thus did intercede. 
 
 " Oh ! force me not, my brother ! I entreat 
 
 Thee to consider, that the sin is great. 
 
 Great in itself: greater, in thee to me ; 
 
 So nearly link'd by consanguinity. 
 
 Forbear, I pray, forbear : thy lust restrain. 
 
 Thy honour, mine, our father's, do not stain 
 
 With such an infamy'. Thou knowest full well, 
 
 No such thing may be borne in Israel. 
 
 Should' st thou defile me : where could I abide ! 
 
 Where find an hole ? my shamed head to hide ! 
 
 Thou tco, the heir of our great father's crown, 
 
 Born to the kingdom, bred in high renown. 
 
 Thy father's darling, and the people's joy : 
 
 What will become of thee, if thou destroy 
 
 Their hopes, by perpetrating such a crime 
 
 As this ? well might thou theceforth curse the time 
 
 Thou e'er saw Tamar : for thou then (ah me ! ) 
 
 But as a fool in Israel would'st be. 
 
 Regard thine honour, mine, our family : 
 
 And rob me not of my virginity. 
 
 Force me not, brother, force me not : but rather 
 
 Ask me hi marriage of our royal father. 
 
 « He 
 
100 DAVIDEIS. Book IV, 
 
 *' He to bestow me on thee will not fail 
 
 " O let my pray'rs and tears with thee prevail ? 
 
 This said, she, with her tears, bedew'd his face ; 
 But he, whom lust had quite bereft of grace, 
 Her most importune prayers would not hear ; 
 But to her supplications stopp'd his ear : 
 And, being stronger, did by force deflow'r 
 The princely dame ; resisting, to her pow'r. 
 
 Great is the difference betwixt lawful love, 
 And lawless lust. That doth itself approve, 
 By its effects, to be indeed divine, 
 As having a celestial origin. 
 That constant is ; and by enjoyment grows 
 Still stronger ; which its innate virtue shows. 
 
 But t'other (which is miscall'd love, and must 
 If rightly namM, be stiled filthy lust) 
 From sensual concupiscence doth flow : 
 Which shews its parentage is from below. 
 This likes tc tike a taste of ev'ry one, 
 Dally with all ; but constant be to none, 
 Arid this, how hot soever it doth burn, 
 After enjoyment, can to hatred turn. 
 
 Such love was Amnon's ; whose uncurb 1 d desire, 
 After his sister, set him all on fire, 
 He burn'd, he flam'd, conram'd, and needs would die, 
 Unless he might with his own sister lie. 
 Yet, when he once his brutish end had gain'd, 
 And, by a rape, his sister's honour stain'd ; 
 He in a moment, chang'd his amorous theme, 
 And flew as high in tli' opposite extreme. 
 He, who but now was over hot and bold, 
 Is now become to her exceeding cold. 
 He, that in nothing else could take delight, 
 But her fair face, now loathes and shuns the sight 
 She, who befqre his heart did captivate, 
 Is now become the object of his hate. 
 He hates her now. He hates her now much more . 
 With perfect hatred, than he lov'd before. 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 102 
 
 He hates her so, he can't her presence bear : 
 But every hour she stays, he thinks a year. 
 That nothing might, to shew his hate, be lacking ; 
 He rudely bids her, up ; away, be packing. 
 
 This surly carriage added to the grief 
 She had before. Nor know she where relief, 
 Opprest, to find. She told him, on her part 
 There was no cause he thus should break her heart. 
 Wish'd him to weigh, whether this would not bring 
 Greater displeasure on him from the king. 
 
 He the deaf ear, to all she said, did turn ; 
 And churlishly did at her counsel spurn. 
 Then call'd his man, and sternly bid him put 
 That woman out ; and fast the door to shut. 
 He did so. She, poor princess, did lament 
 The double injury. Forthwith she rent 
 Her royal robe (of divers colours made, 
 With which kings virgin-daughters were array'd) 
 The lovely tresses of her well set hair, 
 Her trembling fingers, through deep sorrow, tare ; 
 Then putting ashes on her head, she laid 
 Her hand thereon, and mourning accents made, 
 "Nubile to her brother Absalom's she went, 
 Where she, more freely, might her case lament. 
 
 As soon as Absalom the ravish'd dame 
 Did see (well knowing also whence she came) 
 He strait suspecting what had her befel, 
 Begg'd of her, that she would not stick to tell 
 Him how, 'twas with her : whether Amnon had 
 Abus'd her ; and from thence she was so sad 
 She blushing, rather to acknowledge chose, 
 Her wrong by looks, than shame by words disclose. 
 He understood her. And considering 
 How dear prince Amnon was unto the king ; 
 How high in favour of the court and town, 
 He stood, as heir apparent to the crown : 
 Concluded in himself, 'twould be but vain 
 To ho^e for justice, if she should complain : 
 
 Therefore 
 
102 DAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 Therefore he wish'd his sister to conceal 
 The wrong sustained, until he could deal 
 With Amnon for it. She submits to wait ; * 
 And live with him ; but much disconsolate. 
 
 Absalom's guess was right, that 'twould be vain 
 For Tamar of prince Amnon to complain 
 Unto the king ; for though he very wroth 
 Is said to be ; yet was he no less loth 
 (When to his ear this foul transgression came) 
 To lay on Amnon punishment or shame. 
 
 But Absalom did bear the thing to mind ; 
 And in due time to be reveng'd design'd. 
 For, in his heart, he could not choose but hate 
 The man that durst his sister violate, 
 Flow near, or high soever, such a stain 
 Will hardly be got out, till he is slain 
 That gave it. Therefore Absalom is set 
 Amnon to kill, when he fit time can get. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 TWICE had the restless, and unweary'd sun, 
 His yearly course, throughout the Zodiac run, 
 E'er Absalom a season fit could find, 
 To execute the vengeance he design'd 
 On Amnon, for the wickedness he wrought. 
 In the dishonour he on Tamar brought, 
 But now a fit occasion did present, 
 And he tco take it too, was fully bent. 
 
 A great sheep shearing, at his country seat 
 Had Absalom ; at which a noble treat 
 He meant to make ; and thither to invite 
 The king and court ; then Amnon there to smite. 
 
 To court he hastens, and acquaints the king, 
 In humble manner, with his sheep shearing. 
 Intreats that he, at the set time and place, 
 His feast would, with his royal presence, grace. 
 
 To 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 105 
 
 
 T^suit hastate, and his retinue large, 
 jQj^u^H^'siider'd, would eahance the charge ; 
 B^^HPHt this, and handsomely refas'd, 
 WBKop'd his son would hold the king excus'd. 
 
 It suited well ; and sure he lik'd it best, 
 Without the king ; so Amnon were his guest 
 Amnon, for whom the entertainment's made, 
 Whom to destroy, the subtle train is laid. 
 Yet crafty Absalom, the more to hide 
 His bloody purpose, still himself apply'd, 
 With greater earnestness, to gain the king 
 To come : and with him all his sons to bring : 
 But all in vain. The king will not be won, 
 By his entreaties, to oppress his son. 
 Yet, that he might his good acceptance show, 
 His blessing he upon him did bestow. 
 
 Then Absalom, by this ernbolden'd, prest, 
 To let his brother Amnon be his guest, 
 Why Amnon ? ask'd the king. Because said he, 
 Amnon in dignity, is next to thee. 
 The gentle king, from all suspicion free, 
 And overcome by importunity, 
 Yields that, not Amnon only, but the rest 
 Of the king's sons should go at his request. 
 
 The point tb.us»gain'd now Absalom doth part 
 From court, and hastes, with unrelenting heart, 
 Unto his country seat, that he might there 
 The proper means to his design prepare. 
 
 Then, of his servants, calling to him such, 
 As, in his cause, he knew would never grutch 
 Their lives to lose : he thus the matter breaks ; 
 And, in such terms as these, his purpose speaks : 
 
 " Mark well, said he, when Amnon, at the feast? 
 " Shall have drunk high, and overcharg'd his breast 
 " With gen'rous wine ; when I say, Amnon smite ; 
 %i Fall on, strike home, fear not, but kill him quite, 
 " Remember it is I that give command : 
 *' Be 'pliant then, and to your weapons stand. " 
 
 K Accordingly 
 
104 DAVIDEIS. Book IV, 
 
 
 Accordingly, his brethren beinp- come, 
 And all the guests to feast witi Absalom ; 
 Ke, that he i-iianoa might the mon beguil? 
 (His hatred hiding with a feigned smile) 
 Embrac'd, caress'd him, and, for special grace, 
 He strait preferr'd him to the chiefest place. 
 Ply'd him with sprightly wines, till he perceiv'd 
 Tne wine had him of sense well nigh bereav'd, 
 CThen starting up, he gave the fatal word, 
 Smite Amnon. Forthwith each assassin's sword 
 Was sheathed in him : ev'ry one let fly 
 At Amnon, until Amnon dead did lye* 
 
 But oh ! the dreadful tumult that it made 
 Among the guests ! each held himself betray'd- 
 The royal stock were most of all perplex'd, 
 Of whom each fear'd his turn would be the next. 
 Which to prevent, all to their mules did hie, 
 And back to court fear adding wings, did fly. 
 
 But tho', with utmost speed, they cut their way, 
 Yet long tongu'd fame made greater haste than they, 
 The tabling dame before they got to court, 
 A d of the sad disaster made report. 
 A d, as her nature is to magnify 
 T ' ill news she bears (not sticking at a lye) 
 She, to exaggerate the crime did feign, 
 Tn . Abs»ak/Cn had all his brothers slain ; 
 
 t net one of them alive was left ; 
 But of his sons the king was quite bereft. 
 
 Such doleful news sufficient was to shake 
 The strongest mind, and make the heart to ake. 
 The king, with garments rent, upon the ground 
 Himself did cast ; his sorrows did abound. 
 And all his servants, with their garments rent, 
 The loss of- so much royal blcod lament. 
 
 Th s . o-.adab observing (he who gave 
 The counsel, which brought Amnon to his grave) 
 
 o 'd the king not to believe that all 
 His son's were slain ; Amnon alone did fall. 
 
 E 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 105 
 
 That this, which he related, was most true, 
 He could assure him. For, said he, I knew, 
 Long since, that Abs'lom, from the very hour,. 
 Wherein his brother Amnon did defiow'r 
 His sister Tamar, had his death design'd ; 
 And only waited until he could find 
 A season for't, which since he now did gain, 
 He caus'd his brother Amnon to be slain. 
 Thereby to sacrifice to Tamar's honour, 
 Him that had brought so great reproach upon her. 
 By that time Jonadab his tale had told, 
 (Which scarce as yet could gain belief) behold 
 The king's sons enter'd, in a frightful maze, 
 And on the king, as he on them, did gaze: 
 Till he and they into loud weeping brake ; 
 And, in sad accents, mutual sorrows spake. 
 
 Mean while young Absalom, to save his head 
 From stroke of justice, for protection fled 
 Unto his grandfather's, King Talmai's court : 
 Where he might hope for safety and support. 
 But David long did Amnon's death bewail, 
 Which yet could not Uriah's countervail. 
 
 This is the second instance may be giv'n, 
 Of the fulfilling that decree of heav'n, 
 By God denoune'd on David ; when he says, 
 From thy own house, against the divers ways, 
 
 I'll evil bring. First, Amnon did deflow'r 
 
 His daughter Tamar put into his pow'r 
 By him ; than which, ah, what more foul dishonour 
 Poor harmless princess, could have come upon her, 
 What home-bred mischief on himself could fail, 
 Which could a worthy mind more deeply gall. 
 
 This seem'd the first ; and scarcely two years after 
 His son and heir had thus dehTd his daughter : 
 That injury her brother did repay, 
 And in revenge the wretched Amnon slay. 
 Had David justice upon Amnon done, 
 He might have mended, and not lost, his son. 
 
 Thi? 
 
106 DAVIDEIS. Book IV- 
 
 This was a eutting evil, and must need 
 Strike deep, and cause a father's heart to bleed. 
 This was the second stroke, by which that word 
 Was verify* d ; David beware the third. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 NOW had prince Absalom three winters spent 
 At Geshur, whither he for safety went : 
 When David, having for his Amnon shed 
 A flood of tears ; but seeing he was dead, 
 His grief subsides ; and soon paternal love, 
 Its place resuming, in his breast doth move 
 To Absalom ; right heir to Isr'el's throne, 
 Now Amnon's dead, and Chileah also gone. 
 
 This hank'ring mind Joab's observing eye 
 Did in the king, his uncle, soon espy ; * 
 
 And being glad to find it, sought a way 
 How he might Absalom to court convey : 
 Not doubting but, if he could that obtain, 
 The royal favour he would soon regain. 
 This to efFec~t, a wily train he laid 
 The king to circumvent ; who, thus betray'd, 
 Unwittingly should pardon Absalom, 
 And that once done, should then recal him home. 
 
 To Tekoah he sent, where then did dwell 
 A woman, who in wisdom did excel : 
 Her he instructed, when arriv'd to dress 
 Herself in mourning weeds, then get access 
 To David's presence, and before him feign, 
 She mourned for a son of hers, was slain 
 By his own brother ; whom the family 
 Rose up against, condeming him to die. 
 Then, to beseech the king her son to save 
 From being buried in his brother's grave. 
 
 Instructed thus, she to the court did go, 
 And, as a suppjjfrnt, herself did throw 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 107 
 
 At the king's feet. And being ask'd the case, 
 Her artful tale she told, \fhich took such place 
 In the unwary king, that thus he spake, 
 Go home ; and proper care for thee I'll take. 
 She, glad of this, did yet her suit renew 
 Once and again ; until the king she drew 
 To say, thy son for this shan't lose an hair ; 
 And this he did not only say, but sware. 
 
 When thus the wily dame the king had wrought 
 To grant, unwittingly, the thing she sought, 
 Obtaining leave, the matter home did bring, 
 And fairly did apply it to the king. 
 Told him, that he was that avenger, whom 
 She fear'd, on the behalf of Absalom. 
 Besought him to consider that, unless 
 He pardon'd him and did his people bless 
 With their beloved Absalom : Nor he 
 From danger could, nor they from fear be free. 
 She begg'd that he, as father, and as king, 
 Would pardon Absalom ; and home would brine 
 His banished ; and him again restore 
 Unto the grace, in which he stood before. 
 
 The king, himself now finding bver-reach&d, 
 (As once before ; when Nathan to him preach 'd 
 That saving sermon ; with this odds ; that he 
 Was guilty then ; but now from guilt was free) 
 Injoin'd the woman, that she should not hide 
 From him the thing he ask'd ; but should confide 
 In him, that he would no advantage take 
 Against her. She consenting, thus he spake, 
 Is not the hand of Joab in this thing ! *^ 
 
 She own'd it was. Then Joab hither bring, 
 
 The king reply'd. And Joab being come, 
 
 He gave command, go fetch the young man hcrr,e . 
 
 The gen'ral's countenance his joy display'd, 
 And thanks return'd, and low obeisance made, 
 To Geshur's splendid court, with speed he flies, 
 TL prince receiv'd him with a glad surorhe : 
 K 2 
 
103 DAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 The welcome news, through all the court, resounds, 
 
 The joy was gen'ral, yet in decent bounds, 
 
 On Absalom's account, who ever since 
 
 He came to Geshur, like a noble prince, 
 
 Himself conducted wisely, and so well, 
 
 No complaisance could Absalom's excel ; 
 
 So gentle, courteous, and so princely fair, 
 
 Kach heart was gain'd by his obliging air. 
 
 His smiles were honours, ev'ry courtier strove 
 
 Himself to render worthy of his love. 
 
 This him to them so feelingly endears, 
 
 They could not think of parting without tears. 
 
 Yet go he must, affection, friendship, all 
 
 Must vail, and yield to a paternal call : 
 
 Though duty seenvd to claim the greatest share ; 
 
 Yet interest here no little weight did bear. 
 
 With Joab therefore Absalom returns 
 From Geshur to Jerusalem, and burns 
 With thristy hopes, and expectation great, 
 Of highest favour from the royal seat. j 
 
 But oh ! the disappointment it must bring 
 To his aspiring mind, when, from the king 
 Joab returning, let him understand, 
 It was to him the king's express command, 
 That he should strait to his own house resort, 
 And not attempt to chew himself at court. 
 For well the king consider'd, 'twas not meet, 
 Although his love was great, his son should see't ; 
 Nor that he him to special grace should take, 
 Who had so lately made his heart to ake. 
 
 Though therefore, circumvented by a wile, 
 He hsd recall'd him from his self exile : 
 And sav'd his life from danger of the law, 
 He held it best to keep him still in awe. 
 Hoping, in time, he to a better sense 
 Might thereby bring him of his great offence. 
 
 When two full years prince Absalom had lain 
 Under confinement ; not without disdain. 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 109 
 
 That he had not been suffer'd, in that space, 
 His father to salute, or see his face ; 
 Impatient of restraint, he now did send 
 For Joab (both his kinsman and his friend) 
 To try if he howe'er he sped, would bring 
 Him to the long'd-for presence of the king. 
 
 But truly Joab (who, perhaps, might find 
 How to the son the king did stand incKn'd) 
 Would not at first, nor second summons, come : 
 Which usage so provokM prince Absalom, 
 That he resolv'd, since fair means seenvd to fail, 
 He'd try by rougher methods to prevail. 
 He bid his servants, therefore, set on fire 
 A field of Joab's. Joab to enquire 
 The cause of this abuse, did quickly come, 
 And this blunt answer had from Absalom. 
 
 Thou know'st I for thee sent, once and again ; 
 But thou from coming to me didst refrain. 
 No other means being left, I this did take, 
 To see if int'rest would thee kinder make. 
 Thee to the king now suffer me to send, 
 And beg, he. to my life will put an end, 
 Rather than under this restraint me keep, 
 Confin'd so, that abroad I may not peep. 
 Why didst thou me (a most unhappy wretch !) 
 From grandsire Talrnai's court, in Geshur, fetch ; 
 Under pretence, that I should be restor'd 
 Unto the favour of my royal lord ! 
 Better it were, I thither might go back 
 (Where I nor liberty, nor love did lac!.) 
 Than here remain ; where I no comfort have, 
 But what arises from an hoped grave. 
 Therefore beseech the king me once to grace, 
 With the fair aspect of his royal face. 
 If live I may not in his gracious eye, 
 Let me not live at all : I choose to die. 
 
 Tho* Joab gladly would himself excuse 
 From going on this errand, Yet refuse 
 
 He 
 
110 DAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 He knew not how. The prince hard presses for't, 
 
 And he o'ercome, doth trudge away to Court, 
 
 Come thither, he a proper season waits, 
 
 And then so aptly to the king relates 
 
 The moving case of his beloved son, 
 
 His father's fondness soon he gain'd upon ; 
 
 Affection help'd his judgment to betray, 
 
 And to the prince's suit prepares the way : 
 
 For now affection made his judgment doubt, 
 
 If he against his son should still hold out,. 
 
 He might endanger, e'er he was aware, 
 
 The driving of his son into despair. 
 
 Wherefore he order'd Joab strait to bring 
 
 Absalom to his presence ; th' only thing c 
 
 By both desired. Joab o'erjoy'd, doth haste 
 
 To Absalom ; and brings him back as fast. 
 
 He to the king doth all submission show ; 
 
 And at his royal feet himself doth throw. 
 
 The king in kindness, lifts him from the ground^ 
 
 Glad such humility in him was found, 
 
 Embraces, and salutes him with a kiss, 
 
 In sign he pardon'd what he'd done amiss. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 OThe imtemp'rance of the ambitious mind ! 
 To no due bounds, or medium confin'd, 
 How doth it swell ! how doth it soar on high ; 
 As if it fain would climb above the sky, 
 
 This topping temper soon itself did show 
 In Absalom, and wrought his ovei throw: 
 He that, at home confin'd but t'other day, 
 Greatly deprest in mind, obscurely lay, 
 O'erwhelm'd almost with grief, and cold despair ; 
 No sooner felt the warmth of courtly air 
 But, as the vvmter-fhes, whom heat doth bring 
 To sense, begins to buz, and take the wing ; 
 So he, the royal favour feeling, strait 
 Took wing, and soar'd above his proper state. 
 
 Unsteadv 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. Ill 
 
 Unsteady nature, varying like the wind, 
 Hurries to each extreme th' unstable mind. 
 At sea becalm'd, we wish some brisker gales 
 Would on us rise ; and fill our limber sails. 
 We have our wish ; and strait our skiff is toss'd 
 So high, we are in danger to be lost. 
 At land we would be foremost ; make a stir ; 
 And ride at neck and all, with whip and spur. 
 We would be, would have all ; are loth to stay 
 For future rights, till providence make way. 
 
 This is the nature of ambitious man, 
 Soaring as fast, as high too, as he can. 
 Whereas, would we but bridle our desire, 
 Till the due time, we might rise safely higher. 
 
 This was the ruin of this goodly prince, 
 Let loose to soon ; his lofty mind, e'er since, 
 Aim'd nothing lower than the highest seat ; 
 Thought nothing, for himself, too good or great. 
 He on the crown look'd with a lodging eye : 
 Nor speak, nor dream'd of ought but monarchy. 
 And whensoe'er he saw the royal throne, 
 Could scarce forebear to call that seat his own. 
 His own it might have been, would he have staid, 
 Until his fathers' s head was fairly laid ; 
 But his impatience thought each day a year, 
 Each year an age, until the throne was clear. 
 Nor would he stay till providence should make 
 His way to the crown, but's own way would take* 
 
 Accordingly, he did assume such state, 
 As far transcends the highest subject's rate. 
 Horses he did, and chariots too provide ; 
 And fifty men, in whom he could confide, 
 To run before him ; which might seem to be, 
 Either for state, or for security. 
 High state it shew'd if these his lacquies were : 
 A strong defence, if he did them prepare 
 For his life guard. On which soe'er account 
 It was ; it did a subject's state surmount 
 
 This 
 
112 DAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 This pomp, however, made the people gaze ; 
 And in the mob did admiration raise. 
 For vulgar eyes with gawdy shews are caught j 
 And from admiring to submission brought. 
 But he had other ways to circumvent 
 The better sort and thus to work lie went. 
 
 Early each morn, he to the court would go ; 
 And there, beside the gate, would stand, that so 
 Whatever suiter to the king did come, 
 For judgment, must pass by prince Absalom ; 
 Then would he call him near, and ask his name, 
 What his affair might be, and whence he came. 
 Then feigning a concern the matter might 
 Go well ; he'd say, take care thy case be right : 
 But then, with down cast look, and shaking head. 
 Added, the king hath no man, in his stead, 
 Deputed thee to hear ; so thatthough right 
 Thy cause should be, thou suffer may'st by migfa 
 Then ;n a kind of discontented tone 
 (As if he did the peoples case bemoan) 
 He'd mutter something ; then would make a. stop ; 
 And, in a softer tone this wish would drop ; 
 Would I were made chief justice in the land ! 
 That every man, who hath a cause in hand, 
 Might come to me ; and I would do him right, 
 How poor soe'er : none should oppress by might. 
 Would I were on the bench, that I, from thence> 
 Might equal justice unto all dispense ! 
 
 When thus himself he'd artfully extoli'd, 
 And thereby the poor suiter had cajoll'd, 
 To bow before him, and obeisance make ;, 
 Into his arms he would the client take, 
 Hug and embrace him ; nor would him dismiss, 
 Till he had charm'd him with a treacherous kiss. 
 Thus did the son, by such alluring arts, 
 Bereave the father of his peoples hearts ; 
 And draw them to himself ; while the good king, 
 Of all tilings, least suspected such a thing. 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 113 
 
 By this time, Absalom is thought to be 
 Forty years old. And finding now, that he 
 So strong a party had, that he durst venture 
 Upon the crown, by force of arms, to enter ; 
 And drive his too kind father from the throne, 
 (Which he, among his faction, call'd his own :) 
 He held it best yet policy to use ; 
 His royal parent further to abuse ; 
 And gain some time, from his beguiled father : 
 That so he might his scatter'd forces gather 
 Unto a general rendezvous ; and then 
 Pour on the king a mighty host of men. 
 
 For this end therefore, to the court he went. 
 And that he might besure to circumvent 
 The king ; this feigned tale he did devise, 
 His treason, with religion, to disguise. 
 
 " While I at Geshur, did an exile live, 
 " I vow'd a vow, that if the Lord would give 
 *' Me favour in thy sight, and bring me home, 
 " That I, in peace, unto this place might come ; 
 " Then would I to the Lord an offering make 
 4 * At Hebron, where I life at first did take. 
 " Now therefore, gracious sire, be pleas'd, I pray, 
 " To grant thy servant leave, that go I may 
 " To Hebron, and perform the vow I made 
 " Unto the Lord." The good king thus betray'd, 
 By feigned words, said, go in peace. He might 
 Have better said, come back in peace at night. 
 But wise men, good men, suffer'd are sometimes, 
 To fall into the snares their former crimes 
 Have for them laid. Thus this unwitting king 
 Helps forward that, which must upon him bring 
 The judgment * long since giv'n. Uriah's blood 
 Is not yet silenc'd j but still cries aloud. 
 
 To Hebron now prii ce Absalom doth post, 
 And sends his scouts abroad, through every coast 
 
 * * Sam. xii. II. 
 
 Of 
 
114 DAVIDEIS. Book IV, 
 
 Of Israel, that they might notice give 
 To all his friends, who did dispersed live 
 In all the tribes ; that when they once should hear 
 The trumpet sound, they should for him appear 
 In arms imbody'd ; and where e'er they came, 
 Amongst their neighbours, they should him proclaim, 
 And_that, not faintly ; but, in lofty strain, 
 Say Absalom doth now in Hebron reign. 
 
 With Absalom too, from Jerus'lem went 
 Two hundred chosen men ; who his intent 
 Knew nothing of; but went unto his feast ; 
 By which his strength, and numbers were increased ; 
 For these were men of choice abilities 
 -For war ; as well to fight, as to advise. 
 
 But he for counsel chiefly did rely 
 Upon Ahithophel, whose fame so high 
 Was in esteem, that whatsoe'er he said, 
 Was, as the Oracle of God, obey'd. 
 Him who had counsellor to David been, 
 Absalom now did to his faction win :* 
 And, from his city Giloh, did the wretch 
 To his head quarters, now at Hebron, fetch. 
 And now this foul conspiracy grew strong, 
 The people did so thick to Hebron throng. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 WHILE thus the son, with a disloyal mind, 
 His father to dethrone, by force design'd ; 
 Some loyal subject, who had notice got, 
 Of both the preparation, and the plot, 
 Sped to the court, that he might timely bring 
 The news, howe'er unwelcome, to the king ; 
 That he might not, altho' he were betray'd, 
 At unawares be slain, or pris'ner made. 
 Half breathless rushing in, he therefore said, 
 /.bis ! my lord, O king, thou art betray'd ! 
 The men of Israel arc from thee rent, 
 And Absalom to crown are fully bent, 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 115 
 
 Him they already have proclaimed king ; 
 
 And mean thy scepter from thy hand to wring. 
 
 So universally they take his part, 
 
 As if, in this, they all had but one heart. 
 
 And he is drawing out his troops apace, 
 
 As if he aim'd to seize thee in this place. 
 
 So strange a message, so unthought a thing, 
 No wonder if it did surprize the king. 
 Yet did it not from him his judgment take, 
 Nor him so wholly void of counsel make, 
 But that he thought, 'twas better leave the city, 
 Than hazard it unto the rebels pity. 
 
 Calling his servants therefore come, said he, 
 Since we're betray 'd, arise and let us flee. 
 If Absalom should find us in this place, 
 He'll sack the town, perhaps, if not deface 
 The royal buildings, a id, as to despite, 
 The people also, that are in it, smite. 
 Whereas if we be gone, us he'll pursue, 
 So place, and people, may that hurt eschew. 
 . This said, and in his house ten women left ; 
 He, of his native courage not bereft, 
 March'd forth : his houshold servants him attend ; 
 And unto Kidron-brook their course they bend. 
 
 When there arriv'd, his little troop he musters, 
 (More like the gleanings, than the thickset clusters 
 Of a full vintage :) Yet enough to shew, 
 He had some friends yet left ; though but a few. 
 
 Besides his houshold (which was large) went o'er 
 Six hundred fighting men ; who, long before, 
 Had been companions of his suffering state 
 Under King Saul ; and whom no adverse fate 
 Could make to flinch ; or so far to transgress 
 The bounds of loyalty, as in distress 
 To leave him. These his vet' ran soldiers were : 
 And, in his cause, would sell their lives full dear. 
 1 he^e were his life guards, men of wond'rous might, 
 •Strong, hardv, brave, and valiant in fight. 
 
 L With 
 
116 DAVIDEIS, Book IV 
 
 With these the gallant Ittai did consort, 
 The noble Gittite, lately come to court. 
 The king observing him approach the brook, 
 Thus kindly to the gen'rous alien spoke ; 
 Wherefore shouldst thou unhapp'ly take a part, 
 In my misfortunes, who a stranger art, 
 But lately come. Return into the city. 
 Thou yet art safe. And it would be great pity, 
 That I should draw thee into danger, who 
 Neither knows what to do, nor where to go. 
 Take back thy brethren therefore, and abide 
 With the new king, till God the cause decide. 
 And, for the kindness thou to me dost show, 
 May truth and mercy always with thee go. 
 
 The noble Gittite, with a brave disdain, 
 Heard out the king. But then could not refrain 
 From telling him, how much himself he held 
 In honour bound, to serve him in the field, 
 He therefore solemnly protested that, 
 He would not leave him in his adverse state ; 
 But with his leave, wherever he should bend 
 His course, he would upon him there attend. 
 Come life or death, he ne'er would him forsake, 
 But with him, to the last, his lot would take. 
 
 So brave a resolution needs must cheer 
 The king, not much inur'd to let in fear. 
 Then passing on together without stay, 
 They to the wilderness direct their way. 
 
 But Zadock and Abiathar, who were 
 At that time priests, and of the ark took care ; 
 Fearing some htjury it might receive, 
 If at Jerusalem they it should leave, 
 Had brought it with them ; which when David saw, 
 He stopp'd, and with a reverential awe, 
 To Zadock said, bear back the ark again 
 Into its place, and let it there remain. 
 For, If the Lord should me vouchsafe the grace, 
 That I once more with joy may see his face ; 
 
 He'll 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 117 
 
 He'll bring me back, and I shall then behold 
 His habitation as in days of old. 
 But if he thus say, I have no delight 
 In David : lo, I stand here, in his sight, 
 Ready to bear, with unrepinmg mind, 
 What he, to do to me, shall be inclin'd. 
 For well I know his Judgments all are just : 
 And in his mercy I repose my trust. 
 
 The ark dispos'd ; yet was not David clear ; 
 He something had to say in Zadock's ear. 
 He therefore ask'd him ; art not thou a seer ? 
 (Thou, and Abiathar too, thy compeer) 
 You therefore both will out of danger be, 
 Your office giving you immunity. 
 Return into Jerusalem, and stay 
 As near to Absalom, as well you may. 
 Explore his counsels. Pick up what you can ; 
 And send it to me by some' trusty man. 
 Thy son, and his, fit messengers may be, 
 To bring intelligence from you to me, 
 I, in the plain above, will stay until 
 I hear from you how things go, well <jr ill. 
 
 Then parting, with the ark the priests go back ; 
 The king went forward ; tho' with pace but slack. 
 Grief now seiz'd deeper, from a sense that he 
 Must from the ark of God thus banisli'd be ; 
 And that by his own son (rebellious child ! 
 To whom he'd ever been but over mild) 
 But then consid'ring that the Lord his God 
 Did him chastise, in mercy, with this rod ; 
 He call'd to mind Uriah's blood, and wept ; 
 Watering, with tears, the ground whereon he slept, 
 Barefoot he went, and had his hoary head 
 (Sure sign of highest grief) close covered ; 
 But when he had, at length attain'd the top 
 Of Olivet, he there did make a stop, 
 And worshipped the Lord with humble heart, 
 Kissing the sacred hand, which made him smart. 
 
 While 
 
118 BAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 While here he staid, good Hushai came to meet him, 
 And with his kind condoling strains did greet him, 
 Hushai, his faithful servant, and true friend, 
 Whom hearty sorrow made his garment rend, 
 And earth to lay upon his mournful head, 
 Hushai, at court, to courtly counsels bred ; 
 Hushai, than whom king no servant had, 
 More able, nor to serve his lord more glad. 
 
 The king, at sight, concluding where he best 
 Might be dispos'd to serve his interest, 
 Said to him, " If thou passest on with me, 
 " Thou unto me shalt but a burden be. 
 " Go therefore to the city, and salute 
 " King Absalom. That done, prefer thy suit, 
 " That thou mayest be his servant, as thou wast 
 " His father's faithful servant, in days past. 
 " By his means thou the counsels of the great 
 " Ahithophel mayest for my good defeat." 
 Then him directing how he might convey 
 Intelligence, each took his proper way. 
 
 Not far had David gone beyond the top 
 Of Olives mount, when he another stop 
 Was fain to make. There Ziba ready stood, 
 Holding too asses, laden both with food, 
 (Fine manehet, summer fruits, and luscious wine) 
 Whereon the kj„ o might j v hen he ^eased, dine. 
 
 Well might the king suppose, this present came 
 From his friend's son, Mephibosheth the lame ; 
 Since Ziba brought it ; who full well lie knew 
 Was steward to Mephiboshctii. This drew 
 The king to ask, where is thy master's son, 
 That he came not ? False Ziba thereupon 
 Reply'd he at Jerusalem doth stay, 
 Blown up with hopes ; nor did he stick to say,. 
 Now shall the house of Israel restore 
 To me the crown which my grandfather wore, 
 The king, not Ziba's treachery suspe&ing, 
 Too easily belie v'd him ; and reflecting 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 119 
 
 On the detestable ingratitude, 
 
 Which he supposed Mephibosheth shew'd ; 
 
 Not having time to hear the cause, forsook 
 
 The course of justice, and for granted took 
 
 The proofless charge of a designing knave, 
 
 And thereupon a partial judgment gave ; 
 
 Whereby he from the innocent, unheard, 
 
 Took all he had ; and all that all conferr'd 
 
 On the unjust accuser, who deserv'd 
 
 A rope much rather, had not justice swerv'd. 
 
 The fawning traitor having sped so well, 
 
 Upon his knees before king David fell ; 
 
 And full o'th' wond'rous gratitude he feigri'd. 
 
 Gave thanks for what his treachery had gain'd. 
 
 Near Bahurim, as David pass'd, appear' d 
 A rude insulter, of the vulgar herd, 
 From Saul descended, Shimei by name, 
 Who loudly rail'd and cursed as he came. 
 " Come out, said he, come cut, thou man of blood, 
 " Thou son of Belial ; who too long hast stood ; 
 " The Lord hath now return'd upon thee all 
 ** The guiltless blood, which in the house of Saul 
 " Hath by thy means, been shed. The kingdom thou 
 " Usurped hadst, is taken from thee now, 
 " And given to thy son, Thou taken art 
 " In the devices of thine evil heart." 
 
 Nor stay'd he here. From words he fell to blow.. : 
 Both dust and stones he at King David throws, 
 And on his servants, who about him were 
 On either side ; to whom 'twas hard to bear. 
 
 Abishai, David's nephew, seem'd to take 
 This most to heart ; and thus the king bespake : 
 Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king ? 
 JLet me go to him ; and his head I'll bring. 
 
 But David (who, altho' right well he knew, 
 That railing Shimei's charge was quite untrue, 
 So far as he unto the house of Saul 
 Apply'd it, where he had no guilt at all : 
 
 L 2 Yet 
 
120 DAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 Yet, in the book of conscience, daily read 
 
 His guilt and doom, for blood unjustly shed : 
 
 Uriah's blood, for which he knew full well 
 
 This judgment from the Lord upon him fell) 
 
 Would not permit Abishai, for his sake, 
 
 Vengeance on cursing Shimei to take. 
 
 " Let him curse on, said he : for if he curse 
 
 " By God's command, who can think him the worse ? 
 
 " Don't you behold, said he, that my own son, 
 
 " Who from my bowels sprang (and cause hath none) 
 
 4 * Usurps my throne : hath kindled mortal strife 
 
 " Amongst my subjects ; yea, and seeks my life ? 
 
 " How much more then may this rude Beinamite 
 
 " Be borne with, though he do me great despite ! 
 
 " Let him alone. If God hath bid him curse, 
 
 " It may, perhaps, for me be ne'er the worse. 
 
 M Who knows but that the Lord on me may look 
 
 " With pity ; when he sees how well I took 
 
 " Th' affliction he laid on me ; and with good 
 
 " May me requite, for Shimei's cursing mood*'* 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Y this time to Jerusalem was come, 
 In royal equipage, King Absalom : 
 Leading, besides his train, a numerous host 
 Of armed men, drawn out of every coast 
 
 Amongst his friends, who made the greatest haste 
 Him to salute, Hushai was not «the list. 
 He, coming to his presence, cry'd aloud, 
 God save the king, God save the king (and bow'd) 
 Under which words he might his meaning hide, 
 I ? o:- they might well to David be apply'd. 
 
 Absalom had a mind, it seems, to try 
 Whether he safely might on him rely. 
 Wherefore he, at first meeting, on him play'd, 
 And, with a kind of exprobation, said, 
 
 How 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 121 
 
 How now ! is this the kindness to thy friend ! 
 
 Why went'st thou not, that thou mightest him defend ! 
 
 Nay, but his will I be, Hushai reply'd, 
 Him will r serve ; with iiim will I abide, 
 Whom God, and the men of Israel choose : 
 None shall me of unfaithfulness accuse. 
 Should not I serve in presence of his son, 
 As I thy father serv'd (now he is gone) 
 Surely, as I was then at his command : 
 So will I henceforth in thy presence stand. 
 All which he so equivocally spake, 
 That each the words might in his own sense take. 
 Self-flatt'ring Absalom, elate wich pride, 
 The whole, as in his favour meant, apply'd. 
 And strait, by honest guile, in part, deceiv'd, 
 Among his council Hushai he reeeiv'd, 
 
 A council called, he bid them think upon 
 The work ; and tell him what should first be done." 
 Ahithophel (who would not take it Wv.ll, 
 That any, but himself should bear the bell) 
 Stood up, and Absalom he thus be^pake ; 
 " Thy father's concubines direclly take, 
 u And in mqst public manner them derile ; 
 " Which will reputed be a crime so vile, 
 i( That nothing ever can for it atone, 
 «' So will the people cleave to thee alone." 
 The counsel pleas'd : Absalom lik'd it well. 
 All praise their oracle, Ahithophel. 
 
 Forthwith a tent on the house-top, was spread, 
 Where Absalom his father's wives should bed. 
 He did so ; void of grace, and void of shame ; 
 And public kly his father did defame. 
 By which the sentence, that before, from heav'n, 
 Was, by the prophet, unto David * given, 
 Was now fulfilled ; to the extent, 
 May the example still the like prevent. 
 
 Now 
 
 * a Sana, xii. it 
 
122 DAVTDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 Now did the treacherous Ahithophel 
 (Finding his wicked counsel pleas' d so well) 
 Proceed to consult further. " Now let me 
 * c Forthwith choose out twelve thousand men, said he, 
 ce And go on the pursuit this very night, 
 " While David's weary, and unfit to fight. 
 " So shall we strike him, and his men with fear, 
 '* That they'll forsake him ; and we'll smite i'th' rear 
 " The king alone (whom only thou dost lack 
 " To be cut off) and bring the people back." 
 
 This counsel was approved of by all 
 Then present : yet King Absalom bid call 
 Hushai the Archite, that (said he) we may 
 Hear also what he, in this case, can say. 
 
 Kushia brought in, the king to him did tell 
 The counsel given by Ahithophel. 
 Then ask'd, dost thou approve it ? If not, shew 
 Thy reasons, and direct us- what to do. 
 
 The wary Archite (knowing very well 
 The haughty temper of Ahithophel : 
 That he might not be thought him to neglect) 
 Exprest his mind in words to this 'effect 
 
 Although I know, of all that fill this table, 
 Ther^ is not, in the main, a man more able 
 For counsel, than the great Ahithophel, 
 Who doth in wisdom others far excel : 
 Yet, at this time, and in the present case, 
 I must confess, I cannot go his pace. 
 " If thou, with so much speed, should forward rush v 
 " Thou'lt hazard ail upon too sharp a push. 
 " Thy father is a man of war, thou know'st, 
 ** And will not lodge at night among the host. 
 n He now, no doubt, is in some pit or cave ; 
 " W^here he himself, from a surprize, may save. 
 " Besides, both he and all his men, we know, 
 " Are mighty men of valour ; and will show, 
 ** When once engagM, no weariness in fight ; 
 " But, stung with fury, will exert their might : 
 
 « Chafe 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 122 
 
 " Chaff 'd like the mountain bear, of whelps bereav'd, 
 
 " With double force, as doubly they're aggriev'd, 
 
 " They'll deal their rage around, and scorn to yield 
 
 11 To twice ten thousand men the bloody field. 
 
 " Whereas thy men, undisciplin'd and raw, 
 
 " Too likely may, when firmly stood, withdraw, 
 
 " And turn the back, and some be overthrown : 
 
 u Which when it shall among the rest be known, 
 
 " Will raise a rumour, throughoui all the hosl, 
 
 " That Absalom the field hath wholly lost : 
 
 " And where that rumour takes, it will prevail 
 
 " To make the courage of the stdi 
 
 " So shalt thou lose the day ; and either die 
 
 " Upon the spot, be ta'en, or foic'd to fly. 
 
 " Which to prevent, my council is that all 
 " The men of Israel, in general, 
 " From one end to the other, of the land, 
 " Be drawn together, like the imnumbei'd sand 
 •* On the sea-shore : and thou, their lord and head, 
 " Into the field do them, in person, lead. 
 " So shall we on thy father, and his men, 
 " Fall, like the dew upon the ground, and then 
 " Nor he, nor any that arc w'th him, can 
 " Escape our hands ; we'll have tfaem to a man. | 
 
 " But in some fort should he himself immure, 
 
 " We'll there invest him round; till ... ; 
 
 " Ropes to the place, and draw it ao.vn by force, 
 " And sink it in the rapid water-course." 
 
 Thus Hushai, like an orator, did play 
 Upon his hearers weakness ; and yet they 
 Did not perceive it, nor his purpose see ; 
 But prince and people did as one agree, 
 That Hushai's counsel did by far excel 
 The counsel given by Ahithophel. 
 Nor is it strange; for 'twas the Lord that wrought 
 This change in them ; that what before they thought 
 Was good, they now dislik'd ; that he might bring 
 Justice on Absalom their self-made king. 
 
 But 
 
124 DAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 But when Ahithophel (who ne'er could brook 
 Competitor, nor on a rival look, 
 But rack'd with envy, to behold that they 
 Not only were resolv'd to disobey 
 His counsel (which he as direction gave ; 
 And did expect applause, and thanks to have) 
 But Hushai's counsel did to his prefer, 
 (Not able, an affront so high, to bear) 
 Saddling his ass, away he strait did trot ; 
 And, in good time, to his own city got. 
 Where, having wisely settled his affairs, 
 He to the' halter's help, with speed, repairs : 
 Which having firmly fasten'd to a rafter, 
 He stretch'd his neck t' avoid affronts hereafter ; 
 There let him hang, while we look back, and heed 
 How Hushai's better counsel did succeed. 
 
 When Hushai had done speaking, e'er he knew 
 Hew it would be accepted, he withdrew ; 
 And to the priests (Zadock," Abiathar) 
 Related what had pass, and what a jar 
 Had been, in counsels, 'twixt Ahithophel 
 And him ; and, what each had advis'd, did tell, * % 
 But not yet knowing which would followed be, 
 He wish'd them to inform the king, that he 
 Might not that night lodge in the plain, but speed 
 Him e'er the river, that he might be freed 
 From death and danger, which he might sustain, 
 If he should stay till morning in the plain. 
 
 The priests two sons without the city staid, 
 (For to be seen within they were afraid) 
 To them their fathers, by a certain maid 
 The message they should carry strait convey'd ; 
 Which when they had received, away they hy'd 
 Buc, by a youth, unhappily were spy'd, 
 And thereupon pursued ; but by the way, 
 They, in a well conceal'd, securely lay : 
 A matron o'er its cover having spread, 
 Ground corn, as if to dry for making bread ; 
 
 And 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 125 
 
 And when the coast was clear, they posted on ; 
 And told the message, which they came upon. 
 
 David, thus warn'd, arose ; and, in the night, 
 Past over Jordan. By the morning light 
 He, and the people with him, all were gone: 
 Nor of his army miss'd they any one. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 \ 
 
 TO Mahanahim now King David goes, • 
 His friends to meet with, and to miss his foes. 
 This was the place where Jacob, long before, 
 God's angels meeting did his help implore ; 
 And gave it then this name ; by which is shown 
 Two hosts, God's host of angels, and his own. 
 
 Here David friendship found, and was supply'd 
 With needful things, while he did here abide : 
 Which was not long, Absalom now an host 
 Had rais'd, of which he thought he well might boast, 
 Over his army he Amasa made 
 His general. With banners then display'd, 
 He over Jordan passsd, a rebel right, 
 Against his father, and his king to fight. 
 
 When David knew that his son Absalom, 
 With a great host, was over Jordan come, 
 To give him battle, he his men drew forth : 
 Who, though not many, were all men of worth : 
 And, though his army was but small, he chose 
 It it into three battalions to dispose. 
 The first of these he unto Joab gave ; 
 Abishai, Joab's brother, was to have 
 The second ; noble Ittai led the third : 
 Second to none, for use of spear and sword. 
 The king himself intended too to go 
 At head of them, a? gen'ralissimo : 
 But that the people by no means would yield) 
 That he himself should hazard' in the field. 
 
 They 
 
126 DAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 They represented that the enemy- 
 Would not regard, if half of them should die 
 So much if they him could take or slay ; 
 Therefore they begg'd he from the field would stay, 
 .And, if occasion should require, would send 
 Them succours. He was forc'd to condescend. 
 
 But when they march'd away, he standing bv, 
 Shevv'd a paternal passion in his eye. 
 His bowels roll'd towards his graceless son, 
 And (as presaging that the field was won) 
 Thus to the sev'ral generals he spake ; 
 Deal gently with the young man, for my sake. 
 
 The field now taken, and the battle join'd, 
 The victory to David's side inclin'd : 
 But not without a cruel slaughter made 
 Of them that were by Absalom betray'd 
 Into this treason. Twenty thousand fell 
 On his side. For, although he did excel 
 In number; yet they, lighting in a wood 
 His numbers could not do him half the good, 
 As, in an open 'champain plain, they might ; 
 Where they could every man have come to light. 
 Hopeless, at length the routed rebels flee, 
 And David's men pursue them eagerly. 
 
 The rebel Absalom, now forc'd to run 
 Where'er his fell pursuers he might shun, 
 Confus'd with rage and horror, guilt and fear* 
 And pushing on the trackless wood to clear, 
 Amongst the boughs of a thick-spreading oak, 
 ITio head was caught, and fix'd as in a yoke. 
 His mule went on, and left him hanging there, 
 'Twixt earth and heaven, in the open air : 
 Nor could he free himself, his bushy hair, 
 His ornament before, was now-his snare. 
 Him hanging thus, a certairt soldier saw ; 
 And passing by him with respectful awe, 
 Hasted to Joab, and to him thus spoke : 
 I obscrve'd Abs'lom hanging in an oak. 
 
 An cl 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 127 
 
 And didst thou ! Joab said ; why didst not smite 
 
 Him to the ground, and kill him there outright ? 
 
 Hadst thou done so, I would have kindly dealt 
 
 By thee, and given thee a soldier's belt, 
 
 Besides ten shekles. O ! cry'd out the man, 
 
 Though I a thousand shekels might have wan, 
 
 I would not do't ! for I did plainly hear 
 
 Oar lord the king (whom we ought all to fear) 
 
 A strict charge give, that none should dare to touch 
 
 His son, so as to hart him. And 'tis much 
 
 But thou thyself, if I this thing had done, 
 
 Wouldst have, amongst the rest, agai ist me run. 
 
 Jo'b hastily reply 'd, and struck him mute : 
 
 No time had he to trifle in dispute. 
 
 Three darts he snatch'd, and eagerly he sprung 
 
 To where the prince now agonizing hung ; 
 
 Against him he directed ev'ry dart, 
 
 And pierc'd him thrice, yet living, through the heart. 
 
 Then caus'd his armour bearers, ten young men, 
 
 Out right to kill him ; which they did ; and when 
 
 He saw him dead, he a retreat did soun^, 
 
 That no more Hebrew blood might stain the ground. 
 
 Thus fell th' usurper Absalom. Thus fell 
 He, who against his father durst rebel. 
 Thus fell a prince, in body, and in mind 
 So well accomplish'd, that he seem'd design'd 
 For government, would he the time have staid, 
 And not his royal father's throne invade. 
 
 But blind ambition kindled hot d 
 In him, and set his boiling blood on fire. 
 He thought his father drew too long his b-eath, 
 Nothing would serve him but the crown or death. 
 The crown he miss'd. A cruel death he founS ; 
 Stabb'd, hack'd and he v'd, with many a ghastly wound. 
 
 His mangled body to a filthy pit, 
 Near to the place he fell in, th 7 commit ; 
 A.vk without ceremo y, load his bones, 
 With an huge heap of uudistiaguish'd stones. 
 
 M° V* 
 
128 DAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 "Which must have seiVd him for a monument, 
 Had not he, in his life-time, with intent 
 To keep his name up, having then no son, 
 Set up a pillar (with his name thereon : 
 Which unto after ages did remain ; 
 And bore his name, long after he was slain. 
 
 The field thus won, and the unhappy head 
 Of this unnat'ral insurrection, dead ; 
 Their care was next what cautious terms to use, 
 In sending to the king th' unwelcome news. 
 
 Some strife arose, who should the tidings bear ; 
 And divers, for the office forward were. 
 Young Ahimaaz, good old Zadock's son, 
 Of Joab begg'd that he therewith might run ; 
 But Joab doubting that it would not be 
 Acceptable, unwilling was that he, 
 Whom he well lov'd, should go ; and rather chose 
 One less respected than his friend t'expose. 
 For though the victory was cause of p oy, 
 The death of Absalom would ih;it destroy. 
 He therefore bid black Cushi go and tell 
 The king the matter, just as it befel. 
 He ran. But Ahimaaz not content, 
 Unless he too on the same errand went, 
 Die: press so hard, for leave to run, that he 
 Got leave ; but by mere importunity. 
 Then setting forth, and running by the plain, 
 He so much ground dd of the blackmoor gam, 
 That he got first to court ; and that did tell 
 Which needs must please ; for he said, all is well. 
 
 But when the king, whose heart was set upon 
 The welfare of his disobedient son, 
 Ask'd is the young man safe- ? poor Ahimaaz, 
 Not k.:cwif!g what to say, did on him gaze : 
 Loth to confess what he could not deny, 
 vet well knowing how to put it by : 
 at which, with the king, was the main chance, 
 He, too well knowing, pleaded ignorance. 
 
 The* 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 129 
 
 Then standing by, as bid, in Cashi ran, 
 And to relate his message thus began. 
 
 Tidings, my lord, the king ; for thee this day 
 The Lord avenged hath ! so that all they 
 That rose against thee, now are overcome. 
 But cry'd the king, how is't with Absalom ? 
 Say, is the young man safe ? Cuslii replies, 
 So may it be with all thine enemies, 
 As 'tis with him. — This David understood, 
 As from his eyes strait gushed forth a flood 
 Of melting tears. Paternal pity wrought, 
 And overwhelmed each prudential thought. 
 Up stairs he went ; and, as he went, he cry'd, 
 O my son Absalom ! would I had dy'd 
 For thee, O Absalom, my son, my son ! 
 And thus he cry'd, and still he kept alone. 
 His face he cover'd, and let loose the rein 
 To boundless grief ; of noble acts the bane : . 
 This turn'd the triumph, proper for the day, 
 To mourning. The brave soldiers slunk away", 
 As men ashamM. They who the held had won, 
 Stole in, as if they from the field had run. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 THIS was to Joab told, who weighing well 
 How this behaviour might the courage quell 
 Of all the army ; or raise discontent ; 
 Which might be doubly dang'rous in th' event. 
 (For soldiers, if themselves they slighted find, 
 Will shift their sides as nimbly as the wind) 
 He, that he might his duty not forsake, 
 Went to the king, and soldier-like, thus spake. 
 " Thy faithful servants (who have risquYl their lives 
 " Thee to preserve, thy children and thy wives) 
 " Thou shamed hast, by shewing thou extends 
 " More love to enemies than to thy friends. 
 
 « Thy 
 
ISO DAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 " Thy carnage this day she^ws, thou dost not heed 
 " Or prince, or servant ; for, in very deed, 
 " If Absalom had liv'd, 'tis plainly seen, 
 *'■ And we all dy'd, thcu hadst well pleased been. 
 " Wherefore, arise, go forth, and kindly speak 
 " TJuto thy servants ; else away they'll break 
 " Before the morring ; for I boldly dare 
 " Unto thee, by the Gcd of Isr'el, swear, 
 " That, if thou come not in the peoples sight, 
 " There will not tarry one with thee this night. 
 " And that will be worse to thee, I avow, 
 " Than all the evil thou hast felt till now." 
 
 By this bold speech (perhaps more necessary, 
 Than either decent, or discreet and wary) 
 Joab so rouz'd the king, that off he threw 
 His wailing fit. And being a prince that knew 
 To his condition how to suit his hand, 
 And to oblige as well as to command j 
 He hasten'd down into the city gate, 
 And there, as heretofore, in public sat. 
 Which known, the people (who before had fled 
 Each to his tent, as if they had no head) 
 Now fleck unto him, and with deaf'ning sound 
 Of jOyful acclamations him surround. 
 
 And now a gallant emulation rose 
 Amor.gst the tribes ; each to be foremost chose- 
 In shewing their affeclton to the king, 
 And striving him in triumph home to bring. 
 This first among those men of Isr'el fell, 
 ('Tis thought) whom Absalom had made rebel, 
 Who that they might wipe off the guilt and stain 
 Of that foul crime, and credit so regain, 
 Spurr'd one another on, and seem'd to vie 
 Which should most signalize his royalty, 
 In bringing back the king. Who they now praise, 
 Recount his merits, and admire his ways. 
 
 But Judah, his own tribe, too backward were, 
 And too regardless of the common care. 
 
 This 
 
Book IV. DAVIDEIS. 131 
 
 This drowsy negligence did grieve the king. 
 That therefore, them he to a sense might bring 
 Of what became them, he a message sends 
 To Zadock and Abiathar, his friends ; 
 Commanding they should to the elders speak 
 From him ; and thus the matter to them break. 
 
 " Why are you to bring back the king, the last ? 
 " Why ye so slow, when others run so fast ? 
 " Have ye forgot that ye my brethren are, 
 " My bones and flesh (so have a greater share 
 " In me than others ?) why do yet let slip 
 " The season ? and let others you out-strip 
 " In love and loyalty ? This caution take, 
 " And to yourselves advantage of it make." 
 
 He bid them also to Amasa say, 
 (Amasa gen'ral but the other day, 
 Of all the rebels) " Art not thou to me 
 '* A kinsman, near my consanguinity ? 
 " Return to thy allegiance without dread, 
 ** And be my general, in Joab's stead." 
 
 By these, and other such, engaging arts, 
 Pie wrought so strongly on the peoples hearts, 
 That Judah, sensible they had been slack, 
 Now hasten'd to him, to conduct him back. 
 
 Got over Jordan Shimei was the first 
 (Shimei, by whom he was so lately curs'd 
 And rudely treated) who the tide thus turn'd, 
 Contrary to his expectations, mourn'd, 
 Or seem'd to mourn ; perhaps the crafty ki 
 Might sorrow feign, his guilty head to save ; 
 His guilt and danger now impell'd him in, 
 To beg King David's pardon for his sin. 
 
 He therefore, pushing in with Judah led 
 A thousand Benjamites, himself the head ; 
 To shew, perhaps, what interest he had 
 (Which was the worse in one that was so bad) 
 Or if occasion were, his cause to plead, 
 And for him with the king to intercede. 
 
 M 2 This 
 
132 DAVIDEIS. Book IV. 
 
 This traitor was 'the first who met the king, 
 
 And on hk knees Peccavi thus did sing. 
 
 " Let not my gracious lord the king, said he, 
 
 " Impute this day iniquity to me ! 
 
 " Nor bear in mind what I perversly said, 
 
 " And did against him, when he was betray'd I 
 
 " For I, thy servant know, that I therein 
 
 " Am guilty of an execrable sin. 
 
 " Therefore I, with the iirat, am hither come, 
 
 " To wait upon my lord, and bring him home. 
 
 " Pardon, my lord, O king, my fault I pray, 
 
 " Let me find mercy at thine hand this day." 
 
 Before the king could any answer make, 
 Abishai, Zeruiah's forward son thus spake. 
 What ! shall not Shimei be put to death ! 
 That rebel Shimei who with pois'nous breath, 
 Did rail upon, and curse the Lord's anointed ! 
 What, less than death, can be to him appointed J 
 
 This sounded harshly in good David's ear, 
 And that to him he quickly made appear. 
 For, " What, said he, have I with you to do, 
 " Ye busy sons of Zeruiah, that you 
 " On all occasions, still contrive to be, 
 " As much as in you lies, averse from me ? 
 " Shall any man be put to death this day 
 " In Israel ? The Lord, and I, say nay, 
 4< For have not I, think ye, good cause to v kncp? 
 ** That I so lately near an overthrow, 
 il Still king of Israel am, by heav'n's grace ! 
 « Which should with you, as well as me, have place.. 
 " For since the Lord this day doth me restore 
 " Unto the throne on which I sat before, 
 " It ought to be a day of thankful joy, 
 " Which no sad execution should annoy. 
 k ' Then turning unto Shimei, thou, said he, 
 " Shalt not be put to death for this by me." 
 
 THE END OF THE FOURTH BOOK* 
 
 DAVIDEIS 
 
DAVIDEIS 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AMONG the. rest, whom love, or int'rest, drew 
 To meet the king, false Ziba Came : who knew, 
 When once his master came in David's sight, 
 His base deceit wauld then be brought to light. 
 That therefore he might still retain the ] 
 He had, by falsehood gain'd, in David's gTace ; 
 He, with his fifteen sons, and twenty men, 
 Can:?, with pretence to bring him home again. 
 
 But now Mephibosheth (who being lame, 
 Was not so nimble) in due season came, 
 To clear himsslf from Ziba's false report, 
 And on the wretch his treachery retort. 
 
 When David ask'd, why went thou not with me, 
 Mephibosheth ? " My lord, O king, said he, 
 " My faulty servant Ziba, me deceiv'd : 
 " And hapless me, he of his help bereav'd. 
 " I order'd him to saddle me an ass, 
 ** That I thereon unto the king might pass, 
 M Not able else to go. Away he slipt, 
 " And me of means to follow wholly stript. 
 " Nor is that all ; but he hath slander'd too 
 4t Thy servant to my lord, with words untrue. 
 " But well I know, my lord the king is wise : 
 " Do therefore what shall seem good in thine eyes, 
 " I plead no merit : All I have I place 
 " To the account of thine abundant grace. " 
 
 Enough ? 
 
134 DAVIDEIS. Book V, 
 
 Enough ! reply'd the king, my word shall stand ; 
 Thou and thy servant shall divide the land. 
 
 Thus having wrong'd Mephibosheth before, 
 In stripping him, unheard, of all his store : 
 That wrong he by a somewhat less wrong salves, 
 And doth the wrong'd mar, justice but by halves. 
 
 Mephibosheth not oily was most clear 
 From Ziba's charge, as plainly did appear ; 
 But also had so true a mourner been, 
 For David's trouble, that he ne'er was seen 
 To dress his feet, though lame ; nor trim his beard ; 
 Nor in clean linen ever had appear'd 
 To cheer his body, from the very day 
 In which the king, distressed, went away, 
 Until the day lie came again ; which made 
 His case the harder, being duly weigh'd. 
 Yet he, good man, for ;uv the king was come, 
 In peace and safety, to his royal home, 
 Regardless what might to himself befal, 
 Cry'd, ay, let Ziba, if he w : 13, take all. 
 
 We heard before of certain rren, that came 
 To. bring the king supplies a : : Mahanaim ; 
 Of these Barzillai was, the Gileadite ; 
 Who did the king support wit!) great delight, 
 The sense whereof did so affect the king, 
 That to Jerusalem he fain would bring 
 The good old man ; that there he might have shew'd 
 The highest marks of royal gratitude. 
 
 But good Barzillai did to go refuse, 
 And by his hoary age himself excuse. 
 " I am, said lie, full fourscore years of age, 
 " And therefore, with good reason, may presage 
 i: My days cannot be many. I am pa;t 
 " The pleasures of a court, I cannot taste 
 •' My food with relish. 'Twere an oversight 
 " For me in vocal music to delight. 
 •* My ears too heavy to distinguish sounds, 
 " And me the harbinger of death surrounds. 
 
 «< Whv 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. 135 
 
 " Why then should I a further bm den be 
 
 " Unto my lord the king ! oh no ! let me 
 
 44 Wait on thee over Jordan, and return 
 
 " Unto my city, and my parents urn : 
 
 " That there, amongst my people, I may die, 
 
 " Aad in my parents sepulchre may lie. 
 
 " But lo, my son, thy servant Chimham, he 
 
 " Shall wait upon my lord, and always be 
 
 " At thy command. Him to thee I commit : 
 
 " And thou rnayst do to him what thou thinks nt." 
 
 That I'll perform, said David, and to thee 
 Will give besides what thou shalt ask of me. 
 This said, the good old man he kindly kist, 
 And with his royal blessing him dismist. 
 
 Then mareh'd he on, attended very well, 
 By Judah, and one half of Israel. 
 That half, or part, be it suppos'd to be, 
 Which was not from the late rebellion free : 
 And therefore now would more officious seem, 
 That they their shaken credit might redeem. 
 
 But now again a fresh contention rose 
 Between them, which of friends soon made them foes. 
 
 These men of Isr'el could not now contain 
 Their anger ; but did to the king complain 
 Of Judah, that they stole from them the king*, 
 That they alone might him o'er Jordan bri 
 The ground of which they did not understand ; 
 And therefore did their reasons now demand. 
 
 The men of Judah briskly answer'd thus : 
 Because the king is near a kin to us. 
 More brisk than true. David, indeed, was so ; 
 But not as king. Kings are a kin, we know, 
 To all their subjects : and alike to all, 
 That faithful are to them, both great and small. 
 Why, added Judah, do ye then contend? 
 We did our duty without selfish end : 
 We neither eat at the king's charge, nor yet 
 Receiv'd from him a gift, or benefit. 
 
 But 
 
136 DAVIDEIS. Book V. 
 
 But we (the men of Israel reply M) 
 Have that to say which will the cause decide : 
 For we have ten parts in the king ; while you 
 Cannot pretend, at most, to more than two. 
 Why then, since we the greater number are, 
 Did ye despise us ; ana proceed so far 
 As to bring back our sovereign lord the king, 
 Without consulting us ; and thereby bring 
 Contempt upon us ? thus they brawl and chide, 
 And toss the fiery ball from side to side. 
 But Judah r s words, in this contention fell 
 More hot and fierce, than those of Israel. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 HOW needful 'tis hot anger to suppress, 
 Wrath to repel ; for wrath is all excess ! 
 Nor to give way to passion ! Nor too high 
 Resent an apprehended injury r ! 
 Much less to let the tongue, upon debate, 
 Break loose in words, which may exasperate. 
 
 (ten words, like flint and steel, strike fire, 
 And thereby the contention raise the higher. 
 So have I seen what from a sparkle came, 
 Biovfh, by hot breath, into a furious name- 
 Thus, in the present contest, it betel 
 The men of Judah and of Israel. 
 The men of Isr'el did resent too high 
 A slight offence : Judah at them let fly 
 A thuud'iing volley, in such cutting words, 
 As wounded deeper thrm the sharpest swords ; 
 And made the Ik-'elities almost repent, 
 Tint e'er to wait upon the keig tl ey went. 
 
 This beirg olserv'd by She! a, Bichri's son, 
 A Benjajnite, who thither that day run 
 Amongst the rest, 5©t. willing to let go 
 So lit a time his ft '\ -i.lrA to show, 
 
 He 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. *37 
 
 He blew a trumpet ; and each Israelite 
 To fresh rebellion did thus invite : 
 
 " No part have we in David ; nor possess 
 " We any share now in the son of Jess' 
 *' Wherefore, O Isr'el, to your tents betake 
 " Yourselves forthwith ; and Jesse's son forsake." 
 
 So spake this man of Belial ; and so did 
 The men of Isr'el ; strait away they slid 
 From David ; and with nimble paces run 
 After rebellious Sheba, Bichri's son. 
 But Judah clave intirely to their king, 
 And him in honour safely home did bring. 
 
 When thus retum'd the first thing by him done, 
 Was to shut up those concubines his son 
 Defiled had ; to whom he did allot 
 Fit maintenance ; but thenceforth us'd them not.^ 
 
 That done, he did Amasa to him call 
 (Whom he design'd to make his general) 
 And bid him all the men of Judah raise, 
 And draw them up before him, in three days. 
 Away Amasa went, but longer staid ; 
 Although what haste he could he doubtless made. 
 The king, uneasy at Amasa's stay, 
 (Knowing danger rises from delav) 
 Abishai to him call'd, and bid him take 
 The forces ready. After Sheba make 
 With all the speed he could ; lest he should get. 
 The fenced towns, his treason to abet. 
 
 Out march'd Abishai, leading Joab's men, 
 The Cherethites and Pelethites ; but when, 
 Upon the way, Amasa in did fall, 
 He took the chief command as general. 
 
 Joab, not by the king expressly sent, 
 Yet loving aclion, with his soldiers went, 
 And envying Amasa (as indeed 
 He envy'd all, who might himself succeed) 
 He managM so, that, from its sheath, his sw^rd 
 Dronp'd unawares* as of its own accord ; « ** "* r « 
 
 And 
 
138 DAVIDEIS. Book V. 
 
 And quick, as though he would not seem to stand, 
 He snateh'd it up, and bore it in his hand. 
 
 Amasa saw it ; but suspected not 
 That Jo'b therein against him had a plot. 
 For, taking it to be an accident, 
 He was, for his own safety, less intent. 
 Joab advanced. And under feigned show 
 Of kindness, ask'd him, brother, how dost do ? 
 And kissing him, most treacherously, the while 
 A deadly wound he gave him, with a smile. 
 Out dropp'd his bowels : there Amasa lay, 
 Welt'ring in gore, amidst the public way, 
 So dy'd a great and valliant man ; so fell, 
 By treachery, a prince in Israel. 
 
 On Joab, with Abishai went, in quest 
 Of Sheba, leaving one, to tell the rest, 
 That he, who favoured Joab, and who was 
 For David, after Joab on should pass. 
 Which, notwithstanding, as the men drew nigh 
 The place, where murder 'd Amasa did lie, 
 They made an halt ; nor would a step advance ; 
 But gazing stood, like people in a trance. 
 Which one observing, quickly (as behov'd) 
 Amasa's corps, out of the way remov'd, 
 Ir.ro a field, and cover' d it ; which done. 
 Tht warlike people after Joab run. 
 
 ba mean while, through all the tribes had past, 
 And to the city Abel came at last ; 
 His kindred Be'rites join'd him on the way, 
 To share with him the fortune of the day. 
 H re Sheba fix'd ; the place was fortify 'd, 
 Here Jo'b besieg'd him, and his force apply'd. 
 Sh ba, within, resolves (but all in vain) 
 The town against th' assailants to maintain. 
 
 ge grows hot, the engines shake the wall : 
 T xt assault is like to make it fall. 
 
 Which done, the furious soldiers strait rush in 
 With sword in hand, and so the city win. 
 
 Un- 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. 1 
 
 Unthinking, in their heat the people slay, 
 And afterwards, they seize upon the prey. 
 
 Forseeing this, a prudent city dame, 
 Strait to prevent it, on the bulwark came ; 
 And cry'd to the besiegers, hear, O hear, 
 And speak, I pray, to Joab to come near, 
 That we may treat a little — Strait he came, 
 (Not thinking much to parly with a dame, 
 Rough though he was) she his attention won, 
 An ancient custom urging, thus begun. 
 
 " In old time they (said she) were wont to say, 
 " At Abel, surely, they will counsel pray ;" 
 And so the matter ended — Thus she tripp'd 
 This bold commander, who thro' haste had slipp'd 
 The law of * Heraldry ; which did provide, 
 That peace should first be ofFer'd, fair means try'd, 
 Before a siege was laid. Which had he done, 
 He needed not this hostile course have run. 
 
 Thus having gently pinched him, becauee 
 He had not well obscrv'd the Fecial laws ; 
 She told him, though her citizens, and she, 
 Both faithful were and peaceable ; yet he 
 Sought to destroy a city, known full well 
 To be a mother too in Israel. 
 Then ask'd him how he could the siege advance*, 
 To swallow up the Lord's inheritance. 
 
 This startled Joab. Far be it from me, 
 That I unjustly should destroy, said he 1 
 The matter is not so. But ye protect 
 A rebel, who king David doth reject. 
 The son of Bichri, Sheba is his name, 
 (To you, and all true Isr'elities, a shame) 
 Deliver him alone, and I, in pity 
 To you, will raise my siege, and free your city* 
 
 Nay, said the woman, sure, if that be aG, 
 His guilty head we'll throw thee o'er the vmL 
 
 N T 
 
 * Deut. xx. io. 
 
140 DAVIDEIS. Book V 
 
 Then to her citizens the woman went, 
 
 And did to them so wisely represent 
 
 The case, their danger ; which so close she put, 
 
 Th t horn his shoulders Sheba's head they cut, 
 
 And it immediately to Joab threw ; 
 
 Who seeing that, a peaceful trumpet blew, 
 
 They rais'd the siege, and to their tents retir'd, 
 
 And much the matron's wisdom all admir'd. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 THESE two rebellions quelled, which of late 
 Gave such disturbance to the civil state ; 
 Ihe court new modell'd was, removes were made 
 O Ministers, some old aside were laid. 
 Only fierce Joab (who was more bold 
 Tha a welcome to the king) his place will hold. 
 
 A standing army David muster* d then, 
 Consisting of three hundred thousand men, 
 Which into twelve I rigades d.vided were, 
 Answering to the twelve months of the year. 
 In each brigade were twice twelve thousand, and 
 A thousand officers did them command. 
 These took their turns, in time of peace, to be 
 A month on duty, and eleven free; 
 And as their month return'd, in every year, 
 Did each brigade, at court, in arms appear, 
 But all, in time of war, did ready stand, 
 On sound of trumpet to obey command. 
 These to the field King David often drew, 
 His enemies, on all sides, to subdue. 
 
 Four fields he with the Philistines did fight, 
 To each of which they brought a man of might, 
 An Anakim, one of Goliah's race ; 
 Whom David's warriors did not only chase, 
 But si, gle hai ded did them singly slay ; 
 And, each time, bore the victory away. 
 
 We 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. 141 
 
 We read of British Arthur, and his table 
 Of warlike knights (which some account a fable, 
 But grant it true) they never might compare 
 With David's worthies, as their deeds declare. 
 Which whoso list's may, if he please to look, 
 Read at his leisure, in the sacred book. 
 
 Not less concerned was this pious king 
 God's honour to promote ; his praise to sing ; 
 Advance his worship ; celebrate his name ; 
 And others, with like godly zeal, inflame. 
 
 The ark of God (which long before had been 
 The scorn and scourge of the proud Philistine, 
 And with Abinadab had since remain'd ; 
 Who for his entertaining it had gain'd 
 Great blessings from the Lord) the zealous king, 
 With Israel and Judah, went to bring 
 Unto Jerusalem ; but through mistake, 
 Erring, the sacred law they plainly brake. 
 
 The Levites (son3 of Kohath) ought to bear 
 The ark upon their shoulders. They, to spare 
 Their shoulders (learning the Philistine art) 
 Stick not to clap the ark into a cart. 
 God's ark they trust to stumbling oxen, which 
 Might have the ark o'erthrown into a ditch. 
 The oxen stumbling, caus'd the ark to shake ; 
 Well meaning Uzzah care thereof doth take : 
 Puts forth his hand, and holds it, lest it fall, 
 And instants dies, which terrifies them all. 
 
 The Lord's a sovereign Prince ; and wont permit, 
 That man shall vary from his law a whit. 
 The law was plain and easy ; all must say, 
 The fault upon the Levites only lay. 
 Displeas'd was David, that through their defau't 
 This sudden death was on poor Uzzah brought. 
 And since the stroke by God himself was given, 
 Much David fear'd the majesty of heav'n, 
 Lest of the matter he should disapprove, 
 As well as manner, e'en the ark '* remove. 
 
 Not 
 
142 DAVIDEIS. Book V. 
 
 Not daring therefore at that time to bring 
 The ark unto Jerusalem, the king 
 Left it at Obed-Edom's ; who was blest, 
 During the time the ark with him did rest. 
 
 But three months after, on maturer thought, 
 The ark into Jeiusalem was brought 
 In its due order ; and was placed there 
 In a fair teat, which David did prepare. 
 For he, before he would attempt again, 
 What he, before had enterpriz'd in vain, 
 Convening priests and Levites, did declare, 
 None but the Levites ought the ark to bear ; 
 Being therefore charg'd themselves to sanctify, 
 That to the ark they safely might draw nigh, 
 And take it up ; which had they done before, 
 They had not ouifer'd what they now deplore. 
 Then on they go, and, as they go, rejoice, 
 Accomp'n'ing instruments with sound of voice. 
 
 But none, of all the cornparv, more glad 
 Appear'd to be, tha David ; who was clad 
 In linen ephod, and did leap and dance 
 Before the ark, with joyful countenance. 
 
 i his da cing, David 'spi >. 
 q hi - wit! t-t, 
 
 Brake forth in taunting terms. For which she was 
 Condemn 'd her life in barreness to pass ; 
 Sore punishment indeed ! which her did bind 
 From bearing him, who was to save mankind. 
 The ark thus brought, and with triumphant grace 
 And due devotion settled in its place, 
 The pious king, who did before it dance, 
 Now studied how God's honour to advance, 
 
 The priests and Levites he dispos'd in courses 
 (As he before had done his martial forces) 
 To each his proper service he assign'd, 
 Which they should execute with willing mind. 
 Some to burnt-off ritigfi and sacrifices, 
 With rites belonging to those exercises. 
 
 c. 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. 143 
 
 On instruments of musick, some to play, 
 
 And praise the Lord, upon each solemn day. 
 
 To prayer some. Some to give thanks. Some bles!s 
 
 The Lord and seek his wonders to express. 
 
 Nor staid he here. His right religious mind, 
 To build an house for Isr'el's God, inclin'd, 
 A sacred temple he design'd to build, 
 Which with majestick glory should be fill'd. 
 
 This godly purpose of his royal heart 
 The pious king to Nathan did impart : m 
 
 The godly prophet, of the motion glad, 
 That he might strength to his intentions add, 
 (Too hastily, without command) said go, 
 And what is in thine heart to do, that do ; 
 For God is with thee. The good man in this, 
 Through strong desire to have it done, did miss, 
 
 For that same night the Lord his prophet bid. 
 Go tell his servant David (which he did) 
 That in thine heart it was, an house to raise 
 To me wherein to clebrate my praise ; 
 I take it well. But therefrom thou art freed: 
 Thy will, by me, is taken for the deed. 
 Thou shalt not build the house ; for thou has led 
 Great armies to the field, much blood hast shed. 
 But when thy head is laid, a peaceful king, 
 Who of thy seed, and from thy loins shall spring, 
 Shall build my house ; which must be built in peace. 
 Who builds for God, from war and blood must cease-, 
 
 Submissive David, with an humble mind, 
 Intirely to the will of God resign'd ; 
 In solemn manner, did to God express 
 His hearty thanks, and his great name did bless : 
 And still, with diligence, himself apply'd, 
 Materials for the building to provide, 
 Gold, silver, precious stones, brass, iron, wood 
 Of divers sorts ; whatever seemed good 
 For choicest use, he in abundance stor'd, 
 Won, from his enemies, by dint of sword, 
 
 N 2 To 
 
144 DAVIDEIS. Book V. 
 
 To which he added so much of his own, 
 As drew his princes (when it once was known) 
 Chief fathers, captains, rulers to express, 
 By their free offerings, their thankfulness. 
 All which the king to Solomon demis'd, 
 With such instruction as the Lord advis'd ; 
 Assigning to each part its proper use, 
 To build and ornament the sacred house. 
 
 CHAP, IV. 
 
 DURING the reign of David, there had been 
 Three years successively (no ease between) 
 A raging famine ; which did sore oppress 
 The Isr'ehtes, and brought them to distress. 
 
 The long duration of this pinching dearth 
 (Which pin'd the people, and defac'd the earth) 
 Made David, of the Lord, the cause enquire. 
 Which agamst Isr'el, had provok'd his ire. 
 The answer was, it was for faithless Saul, 
 And for his bloody house, this plague did fall 
 Upon the people ; which, perhaps, was due, 
 Since, by their help, the Gibeonites he slew. 
 
 How, when, or why, he did this fact commit, 
 Is not deliver'd in the sacred writ. 
 Wc o ily read, he did it in his zeal 
 For Israel's and Judah's common-weal. 
 
 Some think it was, when he the witches slew, 
 And sought t' exterminate th' infernal § crew : 
 Tho' when e'en that was done, is not so clear 
 From holy writ, to be ascertained here. 
 
 The Gibeonites were not of Israel, 
 Although they with the Isr'elites did dwell. 
 They of the Amorite, a Remnant were, 
 A people, Isr'ePs sword was not spare. 
 
 Which 
 
 § I Sam, xxvlii. 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. 14S 
 
 Which they fore-knowing, by a crafty wile, 
 Good Joshua, and the princes, did beguile. 
 
 These feigning that Ambassadors they came 
 From a far country, did a story frame ; 
 That they so long had en their journey heen, 
 That their provisions (which was plainly seen) 
 Were grown corrupt. Their bread, which hot from 
 
 home 
 They said they brought, was mouldy now become. 
 Old leathern bottles rent and bound they shew ; 
 Which they affirm'd, when they set out were new. 
 Their tatter'd clothes, and clouted shoes, did make 
 The Isr'elites give heed to what they spake. 
 And, being by this stratagem betray'd, 
 An unadvised legaue they with them made, 
 To let them live : and all the princes sware 
 By Isr'el's God ; whose justice will not spare 
 The man, or people, that in vain shall take 
 His sacred name ; but them examples make. 
 
 Well near four hundred years this league was kept 
 Inviolate, till all the judges slept ; 
 And the good prophet Samuel was gone 
 To rest ; and wicked Saul yet filPd the throne, 
 And probably it was not very long 
 Before his end, he did this cursed wrong. 
 For it had early been, it may be thought 
 The punishment had in his time been brought. 
 
 When now king David, on enquiry, knew 
 What 'twas, that on this land the judgment drew ; 
 He call'd the Gibeonites, and bid them say, 
 What they would have him do to take away 
 The guilt of blood. And how he might atone 
 For the injustice Saul to them had done : 
 That satisfaction given, they might bless 
 The Lord's inheritance, with such success, 
 That he appeased, might his heavy hand 
 Remove, and smile again upon the land. 
 
 For 
 
146 s DAVIDEIS. Book V, 
 
 For justice God rewards. And therefore he, 
 How low soe'er the wronged party be, 
 Will righted have, before he will remove 
 The rod, wherewith he doth chastise in love, 
 The Gibeonites reply'd, 'tis not our will, 
 That, for our sakes, thou any man should kill 
 In Israel ; nor Saul's possessions crave. 
 The only thing which we desire to have, 
 The man who us so cruelly annoy'd, 
 And who would us intirely have destroy'd, 
 Let seven of his sons, without delay, 
 Deliver'd be to us, that them we may 
 Hang up, in Gibeah, unto the Lord. 
 To their demand King David did accord. 
 
 Small choice he had, out of Saul's house, to take 
 Sev'n men, atonement for Saul's sin to make. 
 Mephibosheth, he had a special care, 
 For Jonathan his father's sake to spare : 
 Having regard to friendship, and the * oath 
 Which long before had pass'd between them both. 
 
 Of all Saul's sons, but two were now alive, 
 (Unhappy they, that they did him survive,. 
 To undergo an ignominious death 
 For his offence) of these Mephibosheth* 
 The younger was "> Armoni was the other ; 
 Both sons of Rizpah, their ami&ed mother. 
 Five sons of Merab to make up the tale 
 He pitch'd upon. Merab might well bewail 
 Her double loss. Of David first, and then 
 Of her five sons : A set of proper men. 
 For had she married David (which of right 
 She should have done) she, without question, might 
 Have still enjoy'd her sons : herself have been 
 A joyful mother, and a happy queen. 
 
 The number thus complete, the king commands 
 They should be given up into the hands 
 
 • i Sam. xx. 43=. 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. 14? 
 
 Of the wrong'd Gibeonites, they in a word, 
 Hang'd them up, man by man, before the Lord. 
 
 This needful execution being done. 
 When barley-harvest was but new begun ; 
 And the dead bodies being to remain 
 Unhuried 'til the Lord, by sending rain 
 (The want of which was the next cause of dearth) 
 Should his acceptance shew, and bless the earth : 
 Religious Rizpah, that she might defend 
 These uninterred bodies, did attend 
 During the time, as well by night as day, 
 That neither bird, nor beast, might on them prey. 
 For which end, on the rock, where they lay dead* 
 She a pavilion did of sackcloth spread. 
 
 Which pious a6l of hers when David heard 
 (After the Lord propitious had apppar'd) 
 He took the bones of Saul, wlr'ch did remain 
 At Jabesh Gilead (where they long had lain) 
 Together with the bones of Jonathan, 
 H's nolle friend (a brave and worthy man) 
 And gathering up the bones of these, w hq now: 
 Had hanged been ; he on them did bestow 
 A funeral ; awl di 1 them a 1 ! inter 
 3 i ICish, their father's prpper sepulchre. 
 Which done, according to the kings command, 
 The Lord was pleas'd again to bless the land. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 WHEN now the Lord had his anointed blest, 
 As well with inward peace, as outward rest j. 
 Having subdu'd his enemies, and made 
 His neighbours, round about him, all afraid. . 
 Him to offend ; so that he now could say 
 Unto his friend, this is the happy * day 
 The Lord hath made ; let us, with tuneful voice, 
 And thankful heart, in this his day rejoice. 
 
 When 
 * Pfahn csviii, 34, 
 
148 DAVIDEIS. Book V. 
 
 When to this peaceful state the happy king 
 Had thus attain'd, that he could sweetly sing 
 Psalms of thanksgiving, while his fingers play'd, 
 And on his harp melodious music made : 
 The restless adversary of mankind 
 (Who mischief always had to men design'd) 
 Envying the happiness which now befel, 
 Under so good a king, poor Israel, 
 Did with a thought his royal breast inspire, 
 Which quickly set both heart and head on fire ; 
 It kindled in him an ambitious mind 
 To know his strength, and strongly him inclin'd, 
 Unmindful of th' Almighty's will, to dare 
 To number all the people fit for war. 
 
 To Joab therefore, as his general, 
 He gave command to go, and number all 
 The people, fit for war in every tribe ; 
 And, in a muster-roll, their names describe ; 
 That he might thereby know (vain mind, alas \y 
 How strong, in military force he was. 
 
 The snare which David saw not, Joab saw, 
 And labor'd David from it to withdraw ; 
 But all in vain. The king was fully bent 
 To have his will ; Joab about it went 
 Unwillingly ; and, in some ten months time, 
 Returning, shew'd the king his strength and crime. 
 
 For he no sooner the account gave in, 
 But David, smitten in himself, his sin 
 Confessing, said, I sinned greatly have 
 In that which I have done. And now I crave 
 Thy pardon, Lord ; and do most humbly pray, 
 That thou'lt be pleas'd to take my sin away. 
 Ah ! sensible I am, that herein I 
 Have err'd, and done exceeding foolishly. 
 
 Next morning God, in high displeasure, sent 
 His prophet, to denounce a punishment 
 To iiavid for his sin. The prophet goes, 
 And thus his message doth to him disclose. 
 
 « Thus. 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. 14» 
 
 " Thus salth the Lord, three sorts of punishment 
 " I set before thee, and am fully bent 
 " O -ie of them to inflift : but leave to thee 
 " The choice, which of them shall inflicted be. 
 u Choose therefore one ; which I to thee may do : 
 f< For thy offence shall not unpunish'd go. 
 ** Shall * three years more of famine in thy land 
 4t (Which three years hath already suffer'd) stand ? 
 " Or wilt thou, for three months together flee 
 " Before thine enemies, and chased be ? 
 " Or shall, throughout thy land, the pestilence 
 " For three days rage, to punish thine offence V 
 Be now advis'd, said Gad, think well what word 
 I shall, from thee, return unto the Lord. 
 
 Here the gradations sink, as it appears, 
 From months to days, and unto months from years, 
 Three months of bloody war, 'tis likely, may 
 As many as three years of famine slay. 
 And three days pestilence accounted are 
 To equal three months of devouring war. 
 
 Great was the strait poor David now was in 
 (Ah ! what but straits attend presumptuous sin !) 
 Which of the three to choose he's unprepar'd, 
 To choose was favour : but the choice was hard. 
 
 Famine the land had felt so late before : 
 That too would, first and most , affect the poor, 
 Himself it would not reach ; to whom, he knew, 
 The rod was chiefly, though not only due. 
 
 Like reason was of war. In person he 
 Might be, for three months time, from danger free. 
 Besides, if Isr'el should be beat and fly 
 So long- and oft, it might the enemy 
 Embolden, of their strength or cause, to boast ; 
 And to blaspheme the Lord, the God of hosts. 
 
 These therefore wavM, the king r.-.solv'd, at last, 
 Himself into the hand of God to cast. 
 
 Into 
 
 * I Chron. xxi, 12. 
 
150 DAVIDEIS. Book V- 
 
 Into the hand of God, said he lets fall ; 
 And humbly unto him for mercy call-. 
 His mercy's great. I by experience, know 
 He will, upon repentance, mercy show. 
 In him I trust. To him, distrest I fly. 
 And on his tender mercies I rely. 
 But let me not into the hands of man 
 Be cast ; for he will do the worst he can. 
 
 The choice thus made, the pestilence is sent 
 Throughout the land ; the angel swiftly went, 
 Waving his flaming sword, whereby there fell 
 Seventy thousand men in Israel, 
 In three days time. But when the angel came 
 To shake his blade against Jerusalem, 
 (The royal city the imperial seat, 
 The cabinet of what was choice and great) 
 T'he mournful king, with Isr'els elders, clad 
 In sackcloth, with their countenances sad, 
 Fell on their faces at the dreadful sight 
 OF that devouring blade, stretch'd out to smite 
 The people ; and the trembling king thus pour'd 
 His supplication forth before the Lord. 
 
 " Ah ! am not I the man, that gave command 
 " The people should be number'd thro' the land ! 
 ** 'Tis even I that did this sin commit, 
 u O that I only suffer might for it ! 
 " On me, and on my house, O Lord, I pray, . 
 " Be pleas'c, for what remains, thy hand to lay ! 
 " But not upon the people in this city ; 
 " Oh ! on these harmless sheep, I pray have pity ; 
 " And let not them be plagu'd for my offence ; 
 « Accept my p;ay'er, regard their innocence. " 
 
 This earnest s pplication heaven pierc'd, 
 And the remaina r of the doom revers'd, 
 The Lord repent ng, to the angel said ; 
 It is enough. New let thii.e hand be staid. 
 
 The a ti gel stoo.- when this blest word was giVn. 
 By Oman's threshing floor, 'twixt earth and heav'n. 
 
 And 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. 151 
 
 And Oman (or Araunah) when he spy'd 
 The angel, ran, with his four sons, to hide. 
 
 But David, being by Gad instructed, went 
 •To buy the threshing-floor, with full intent 
 To rear an altar, in that very place, 
 Unto the Lord ; and their to seek his face, 
 
 Araunah, looking forth, and seeing the king 
 Approaching, on the ground himself did fling, 
 The cause enquiring, which had brought him there ; 
 Which in so great a prince, must great appear. 
 My bus'ness, answer'd David, is to buy 
 Of thee thy threshing-floor, that thereon I 
 May raise an altar to the Lord, and see 
 If by peace-oft;'rings he appeas'd will be. 
 That so, his just displeasure being allay'd, 
 The plague, inflicled on us, may be stay'd. 
 
 O, said Araunah, let my lord the king 
 Accept the ground ; thou needest nothing bring. 
 The oxen for burnt off 'rings, and the wheat, 
 Accept, for the meat ofPring, I intreat ! 
 The threshing instruments may serve the turn 
 Instead of wood, the offerings to burn, 
 And may'st thou by the Lord accepted be 
 As sure as these are freely giv'n by me, 
 
 Nay, hold, said David, do not think that 1 
 A begging came ? I came indeed to buy ; 
 And buy I will ; and that too at full price ; 
 What's not my own I will not sacrifice. 
 Nor will I that, for which I gave no costs, 
 Pretend to offer to the Lord of hosts. 
 
 The price then set, and paid, an altar there 
 King David to the Lord his God did rear : 
 And thereon offer'd to appease the Lord, 
 Burnt off'rings and peace off'nngs and implor'd 
 His gracious pardon. And the Lord, who knew 
 That David's heart was right, his sorrow true, ' 
 Vouchsafe to answer h m by fire, which came 
 From heav'n, upon the altar, in a flame, 
 
 O By 
 
152 DAVIDEIS. Book V. 
 
 By which he shew'd his anger was appeasM, 
 And he, with David's sacrifice, was pleas'd. 
 
 Thus ceas'd the plague, with seventy thousand slain, 
 By which so many fewer did remain 
 To serve the king. And tho' the Lord thought fit 
 To spare the man that did the sin commit ; 
 Yet, in his kingly state, in part he dy'd ; 
 At least was wounded through his peoples side. 
 For kings and subjects are cor-relatives ; 
 The one must die, unless the other lives. 
 Herein, however, divine providence 
 Suited the punishment to the offence : 
 That since, of numbers, David fain would boast, 
 He of his number seventy thousand lost. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 AGE now, and the expence of blood in war, 
 To weakness, had reduc'd the king so far, 
 That, though against the cold they did him arm 
 With store of clothes, they scarce could keep him warm; 
 Wherefore they for a fair young virgin sought, 
 Whom having found, unto the king they brought, 
 Her name Abishag, she a Shunamite, 
 Who on the king should wait both day and night* 
 She stood at hand, to serve him all the day ; ^ 
 
 And, when night came, she in his bosom lay ; 
 Whereby her nat'ral heat she did impart 
 Unto the king ; which did refresh his heart. 
 Thus led she a concubinary life : 
 Yet did the king not know her as a wife. 
 
 His eldest son, then living, was a prince 
 Of an aspiring mind ; who, ever since 
 The death of Absalom, himself did hold 
 Heir to the crown, and thereupon grew boldt 
 His name was Adonijah, which doth sound 
 A ruling lord ; and such he would be found. 
 
 A goodly 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. 153 
 
 A goodly man, for personage, was he, 
 
 And from correction had been always free. 
 
 For the king's lenity to him was such, 
 
 He never had displeased him, so much 
 
 As but to say unto him, O my son, 
 
 What is the cause, thou so, or so hast done ? 
 
 He long had cast his eye upon the throne, 
 As counting, if not calling, it his own, 
 And reckon'd he sustain'd no little wrong, 
 In that his father sat upon't so long. 
 But now, his father's age, and feeble state, 
 Made him resolve, he would no longer wait ; 
 But take possession of the royal crown, 
 Ascend the throne, and thrust his father down. 
 
 In order thereunto, he did provide 
 Chariots and horsemen (for both guard and pride) 
 And fifty men, who should before him run ; 
 Like as his brother Absalom had done. 
 
 Then into the conspiracy he drew 
 Joab, his father's gen'ral ; who, he knew, 
 Among the soldiery great interest had, 
 And to his cause, could strength and credit add. 
 Abiathar, the priest he also got 
 To join with him, and consecrate his plot. 
 
 Both he and Joab had stood right before, 
 When Absalom rebell'd ; and to restore 
 The king, they labour* d hard, unto his crown, 
 What pity 'twas they now the pail kick'd down. 
 
 Joab indeed, some colour might pretend 
 For his defection. He might apprehend, 
 (Not without reason) since he lost his place. 
 He stood but loosly in the royal grace. 
 
 But for the priest, no cause as yet we see, 
 Which might, in his excuse, alledged b 
 Unless it were, what among such dH^un, 
 An aptness to adore the rising sun. 
 David declin'd apace ; ready to set, 
 Young Adonijah ready up to gat. 
 
 The 
 
154 DAVIDEIS. Book V. 
 
 The plot now being ripe, the time at hand, 
 Wherein he meant all Isr'el to command ; 
 He made a royal feast ; fat cattle slew, 
 Both sheep and oxen ; and to it he drew 
 His brethren, the king's sons (e'en every one 
 Of them, excepting only Solomon) 
 And with them Joab and Abiathar : 
 And all the men of Judah, though they were 
 The king's own servants : and with them too most 
 Of the brave captains of his father's host ; 
 Who, when the wine their spirits did inflame, 
 Should Adonijah, for their king proclaim. 
 
 Just in the nick, the prophet Nathan got 
 The knowledge of this execrable plot : 
 And wisely weighing, how he might prevent 
 The dire effects thereof, away he went 
 Unto queen Bathsheba, and her surpriz'd 
 With the relation of it : then advis'd 
 Her to the king immediately to go, 
 And open, to the king, the matter so, 
 That he the danger deeply in may take ; 
 And, to prevent it, due provision make. 
 And, added he, whilst thou yet speaking art 
 Unto the king, I'll come and take thy part. 
 Then her instrucxing, how she should begin 
 The matter, he withdrew ; and she went in. 
 
 Come to the presence of thtrking, she bow'd, 
 (Alter such manner as they then allcw'd) 
 An:' being by the king ask'd, what she would I 
 She in such terms as these, her bus'ness told. 
 •' Thou once my lord, unto thine handmaid sware, 
 " By the Almighty (who doth witness bear) 
 " That, ait^r thee, thy servant Solomon 
 " Should rejttte&nd sit upon his father's throne. 
 " Y^t now,TSBftl Adonijah cL'h reign : 
 " And he hath oxen, and fat cattle slain 
 ** In great abundance, and a feast hath made : 
 « To which thine other socs are all betray'd, 
 
Book V, DAVIDEIS. 155 
 
 " That they may own his title : tho' only one 
 
 " Excluded, is thy servant Solomon. 
 
 " But, upon thee, my lord, O king, the eyes 
 
 " Of Isr'el are : that thou before thou dies, 
 
 " Shouldst plainly tell them who, when thou art gone,, 
 
 u Shall thee succeed upon the royal throne. 
 
 ** Which, if to do, my lord the king shall fail, 
 
 " And Adonijah's treason should prevail ; 
 
 <■ When thou, my lord, shalt with thy fathers sleep, 
 
 (The thought whereof occasions me to weep) 
 
 " It then shall come to pass, offenders we, 
 
 " My son and I, shall then reputed be." ■ 
 
 While yet she spake, the prophet Nathan came 
 Into the anti-chamber ; and his name 
 Sent in, he did for quick admittance sue, 
 And being introduc'd, the queen withdrew, 
 The prophet quickly his obeisance made, 
 And to the king, in haste, abruptly said, 
 " Dost thou, my lord the king, indeed ordain 
 " That Adonijah, after thee, shall reign ? 
 " Or hast thou said, when I to rest am gone, 
 " I will that he shall sit upon my throne ? 
 " For he this day hath made a royal feast, 
 " And to it hath invited many a guest ; 
 " All the king's sons (except prince Solomon) 
 " Unto his feast : at his request are gone, 
 " And Joab; with»the captains of the host, 
 *' He doth caress ; not sparing any cost : 
 " Nor is Abiathar the priest, the least 
 " Among his guests, to bless the trait'rous feast, 
 " All whom that he may richly entertain, 
 u Fed cattle in abundance he hath slain. 
 14 They eat, drink, sing, loud acclamations give : 
 " And cry, long may king Adonijat^iye. 
 
 " But me, thy servant, and thyfcpgliteiit 5011 
 " (Best of thy sons) the brave prince Solomon, 
 " He hath not call'd, nor Zadoek, the good priest;, 
 " Nor yet Benajah, to his treach'rous feast. 
 
 O % ■• B 
 
156 DAVIDEIS. Book V. 
 
 u Is this thing, by my lord's appointment done, 
 " A nd to thy servant, it thou hast not shown ? 
 " Or hath aspiring Adonijah chose 
 " This time, to seize the crown, and thee depose :'* 
 
 He stopt. But what had heen already said, 
 On David's mind, a deep impression made. 
 He had not yet the sad effects forgot, 
 Of his son Absalom's disloyal plot ; 
 How hard it with him went ; what dangers he 
 Was in ; how he was fain for life to flee : 
 Which now (so weak he was) he could not do : 
 But must, whate'er befel him, undergo. 
 He therefore to this sore, resolv'd t' apply 
 A speedy, and effectual remedy. 
 He therefore said, call Bathsheba to me : 
 She soon appear'd with awful modesty, 
 And stood before him (Nathan out was gone 
 Leaving the king and Bathsheba alone) 
 To whom the king thus spake (and with an oath 
 .Old what he said confirm, between them both.) 
 " As lives the Lord, who hath redeemed me. 
 «* From all distress, I now declare to thee, 
 " As I engaged solemnly before, 
 " When by the God of Israel I swore, 
 <% Assuring thee, that Solomon, thy son, 
 «i Should me succeed, and sit upon my throne-: 
 " That will I certainly perform this day ; 
 44 Thine eye shall see it done without delay." 
 
 The queen, most humble rev'rence having made^ 
 Only, long live my lord King David, said. 
 By which, we may suppose, she wish'd that he 
 Mtght stiil reign on, and be from trouble free. 
 
 But he, upon the matter more intent, 
 For Zadock, ^jbihan, and Benajah sent, 
 To whom he ga*3|jSn charge that they should strait- 
 Take ot his servants, both for strength and state, 
 Sufficient numbers ; and should cause his son 
 (The Lord's belov'd, Jediah) Solomon, 
 
 On 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. 157 
 
 On the king's mule, in royal pomp, to ride 
 (The priest and prophet walking by his side, 
 With royal guards before him and behind. 
 And all the people who were well inclin'd) 
 Until they came to Gihon's little stream, 
 Which from the court parted Jerusalem. 
 Let Zadock there, and Nathan him anoint ; 
 For him I king o'er Israel appoint, 
 Said David, in my stead, upon my throne 
 To sit ; and hencefore take it for his own. 
 
 And when he is anointed, forthwith sound 
 The trumpet, and let all the people round, 
 With joyful acclamations, call upon 
 The Lord and say, God save King Solomon. 
 Then bring him up, that he, as I ordain, 
 May over Israel and Judah reign. 
 
 Amen, reply'd Benajah ; and O may 
 Thy gracious God amen unto it say ! 
 As with my lord the king, the Lord hath been, 
 So may he too with Solomon be seen : 
 And may his throne transcend thy throne as far, 
 As other thrones to thine inferior are. 
 
 This said, away they altogether go, 
 Zadock the priest, Nathan the prophet too ; 
 Captain Benajah, with the king's life guard, 
 The Cheiethites, and Pelethites, prepar'd 
 The king's command to execute ; and those 
 To slay, who should them in the work oppose 
 
 The priest, out of the tabernacle, took 
 An horn of oil ; and down to Gihon-brook 
 They lead prince Solomon, in royal state : 
 Priest, prophet, people, gladly on him wait, 
 And there the priest, upon his princely head, 
 From out his horn, the sacred oil did shed. 
 The trumpet then was blown, and thereupon 
 The people cry'd God save King Solomon. 
 Their throats were then distended ; and the sour.d 
 Of trumpets was by that of voices drovvn'd. 
 
 Triumphant 
 
158 DAVIDEIS. Book V, 
 
 Triumphant noises through the air did break, 
 And their transporting joys did loudly speak. 
 Such acclamations made ! such shouts were giv'n 
 As seem'd to read the earth, and pierce the heav'n? 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 BY this time Adonijah, and the rest 
 Who had been entertained at his feast, 
 Their banquet past, were ready now to bring 
 Him forth in public, to proclaim him king ; 
 Buoy'd up with confidence of their success, 
 A priest attending them the work to bless : 
 And the old gen'ral Joab at their head, 
 The military forces up to lead. 
 When, on a sudden, the rebounding cries, 
 Of Solomon's attendants, them surprize. 
 They heard, and started ; and the more they hear, 
 The more they're with amazement Gtruck, and fear. 
 What, said old Joab (when he heard the sound 
 Of trumpets, and the shouts which trumpets drown'd) 
 May we suppose the cause cf this to be ? 
 The city in an uproar seems to me. 
 
 White yet he spake, came one unto the door 
 (Who had been prowling out some time before) 
 Jonathan (who was son unto the priest 
 Abiathar, of traitors not the least) 
 Who having been abroad upon the scout, 
 Had seen the work the city was about. 
 
 Him Adonijah seeing, said, come in, 
 And tell us what the matter is. Begin : 
 For thou a man of noted valour art, 
 And usually good tidings dost impart : 
 Say, what's the bus'ness ? ah, alas ! said he, 
 u j\^ ridings now will not be good tc thee : 
 ** j.0' verily^ our lord King David now 
 " IJath Solomon made king.'* Then told him how, 
 
 Where*- 
 
Book V. DAVIDEIS. 1$9 
 
 Where and by whom, it managed had been ; 
 And what, relating to't he'd heard or seen. 
 Adding, the people's joy, for their new king, 
 They so exprest, as made the city ring. 
 And that the noise is, which ye now have heard ^ 
 The cause of which is justly to be fear'd. 
 For Solomon on the throne doth sit ; 
 And doth to every one what he thinks fit. 
 
 At this report the guests were all afraid, 
 And slipt away : Not one among them staid 
 With Adonijah. He, as well he might, 
 Deserted thus, fled, in a grievous fright 
 Unto the altar ; of its horns laid hold, 
 Hoping that sacred place now (as of old 
 It had to others done) might him protect, 
 At least till he might other means project 
 His pardon to obtain. This being laid 
 Before king Solomon, he thereon said, 
 If he himself a worthy man will shew, 
 There shall, for this, no punishment ensue- 
 But if hereafter, he again shall try 
 111 practices against me he shall die. 
 
 Then Solomon sent messengers to bring 
 Him, from the altar, down unto the king ; 
 He came, and to the king himself did bow, 
 Which shew'd he did his sov'reignty allow. 
 The king dismissing him, this only said, 
 Go to thy house ; do well ; be not afraid. 
 
 This gentle dealing, th' ancient king approv'd, 
 No doubt, because he Adonijah lov'd ; 
 And therefore, probably, was glad to see, 
 In his successor, so much lenity. 
 Which made him (when his courtiers came to wait 
 Upon" him, and with joy, congratulate 
 This great deliv'rance ) bow himself and say, 
 il Blest he the Lord, e'en Isr'el's God, this day ; 
 " Who wnilst I am living, have vouchsafed one 
 " Of mine own sons, to sit upon my throae." 
 
 The 
 
160 DAVIDEIS. Book T. 
 
 The sense whereof did make this godly king, 
 Unto the Lord, his nunc dimittis sing. 
 And now the days of David drawing nigh, 
 Wherein, by course of nature, he should die ; 
 He of King Solomon his leave did take ; 
 And unto him he thus, at parting, spake. 
 
 " I go the way of all the earth, said he ; 
 " Be strong, and let the man appear in thee. 
 " God's sacred charge observe throughout thy days, 
 " And walk uprightly in his holy ways ; 
 " His statutes keep ; his high commands obey ; 
 " His judgments dread ; his dodtrines all display : 
 " That in whate'er thine hand doth undertake, 
 " Thou mayest the Lord to thee- propitious make 
 H Then will the Lord confirm his word, which he 
 •* Most graciously did speak concerning me : 
 " When he, some years ago, was pleas'd to * say* 
 ** If thine shall take good heed unto their way, 
 *' With all their heart, and all their soul to walk 
 " In truth before me (justice never baulk) 
 " Then shall thou never want a favour* d son^ 
 " To sit upon the Isr'elitish throne." 
 
 This said, he Solomon instruction gave 
 How he, hereafter, should himself behave 
 To some, who had from their allegiance swerv'd ; 
 And others, who of him had well deserv'd : . 
 Then having seen full threescore years and ten,. 
 And forty passed in a glorious reign, 
 He with his father's slept and was interr'd 
 In his own city, which he most preferr'd ; 
 And which to honour him, thenceforth became 
 The royal sepulchre for men of fame, 
 And now my muse, might she so high presume, 
 Would write this epitaph upon hia tomb. 
 
 EPITPAH. 
 
 * z Sam. via. 12. 
 
EPITAPH. 
 
 HERE lies King David, whose sharp sword did quell 
 The fiercest enemies of Israel. 
 Here the sweet singer lies, whose various state, 
 The psalms by him composed do relate, 
 Here lies the man, who (for the greatest part),_ 
 Did walk according to the Lord's own heart. 
 His body in the grave below doth rest ; 
 His spirit lives above, among the blest* 
 
 <Y$E ENfc. 
 
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