MICHAL: Why?
DAVID: Nay, thou knowest. Thy father hates me beyond measure.
MICHAL: But I love you.
DAVID (takes her hand): Yea!
MICHAL: Is it nothing to you that Michal is your wife and loves you?
DAVID: Verily, it is not nothing. But, Michal, what will come to me at last? From moon to moon Saul’s anger waxes. I shall lose my life at last. And what good shall I be to thee then?
MICHAL: Ah, no! Ah, no! Never shall I see thee dead. First thou shalt see me dead. Never, never shall I tear my hair for thee, as a widow. It shall not be. If thou go hence, it shall not be into death.
DAVID: Yet death is near. From month to month, since I came back with the foreskins of the Philistine, and got thee to wife, Saul has hated me more. Michal loves David, and Saul’s hate waxes greater. Jonathan loves David, and the King commands Jonathan, saying: There, where thou seest him, there shalt thou slay David.
MICHAL: My father is no more a man. He is given over entirely to evil spirits. But Jonathan will save thee through it all.
DAVID: The Lord will save me. And Jonathan is dearer to me than a heart’s brother.
MICHAL: Think, O husband, if Saul hateth thee, how Michal and Jonathan, who are children of Saul, do love thee.
DAVID: Yea, verily! It is like the rainbow in the sky unto me. But, O Michal, how shall we win through? I have loved Saul. And I have not it in me to hate him. Only his perpetual anger puts on me a surpassing heaviness, and a weariness, so my flesh wearies upon my bones.
MICHAL: But why? Why? Why does it matter to thee? I love thee, all the time — Jonathan loves thee — thy men love thee. Why does the frenzy of one distracted man so trouble thee? Why? It is out of all measure.
DAVID: Nay, he is Saul, and the Lord’s anointed. And he is King over all Israel.
MICHAL: And what then? He is no man among men any more. Evil possesses him. Why heed him, and wake in the night for him?
DAVID: Because he is the Lord’s anointed, and one day he will kill me.
MICHAL: He will never kill thee. Thou sayest thyself the Lord will prevent him. And if not the Lord, then I will prevent him — for I am not yet nothing in Gilgal. And Jonathan will prevent him. And the captains will prevent him. And art thou not also the Lord’s anointed? And will not the Lord set thee King on the hill of Zion, in thine own Judah?
DAVID: O Michal! O Michal! That the hand of the Lord’s anointed should be lifted against the Lord’s anointed! What can I do? For Saul is the Lord’s, and I may not even see an enemy in him. I cannot verily! Yet he seeks to slay me. All these months since he gave thee to me, after I brought the foreskins of the Philistine for thy dowry, he has hated me more, and sought my life. Before the moon of our marriage was waned away thy father commanded his servants, and even Jonathan, to slay David on that spot where they should find him. So Jonathan came to me in haste and secret, and sent me away into the fields by night and hid me. Yea, before the month of our marriage was finished I had to flee from thee in the night, and leave my place cold.
MICHAL: But not for long. Not for long. Jonathan persuaded my father, so he took thee back. Even he loved thee again.
DAVID: Yea, he also loves me! But Saul is a man falling backward down a deep pit, that must e’en clutch what is nearest him, and drag it down along with him.
MICHAL: But Saul swore: As the Lord liveth, David shall not be slain.
DAVID: Ay, he swore. But before two moons were passed his brow was black again. And when the season of the year came, that the Kings of the Philistine go forth, I went up against them, and fought. The months of the fighting I fought with them, and all the people rejoiced. But I saw with a sinking heart the face of Saul blacken, blacken darker with greater hate! Yea, he hath loved me, as the Lord’s anointed must love the Lord’s anointed. But Saul is slipping backward down the pit of despair, away from God. And each time he strives to come forth, the loose earth yields beneath his feet, and he slides deeper. So the upreach of his love fails him, and the downslide of his hate is great and greater in weight. I cannot hate him — nor love him — but, O Michal, I am oppressed with a horror of him.
MICHAL: Nay, do not dwell on him.
DAVID: And the year went round its course, and once more there was war with the Philistine. And once more we prevailed, in the Lord. And once more the armies shouted my name. And once more I came home to thee — and thou didst sing. And my heart did sing above thee. But as a bird hushes when the shadow of the hawk dances upon him from heaven, my heart went hushed under the shadow of Saul. And my heart could not sing between thy breasts, as it wanted to, even the heart of a bridegroom. For the shadow of Saul was upon it.
MICHAL: Oh, why do you care? Why do you care? Why do you not love me and never care?
DAVID: It is not in me. I have been blithe of thy love and thy body. But now three days ago, even in the midst of my blitheness, Saul again threw his javelin at me — yea, even in the feast. And I am marked among all men. And the end draws nigh. — For scarce may I leave this house, lest at some corner they slay me.
MICHAL: What end, then? What end draws nigh?
DAVID: I must get me gone. I must go into the wilderness.
MICHAL (weeping): Oh, bitter! Bitter! My joy has been torn from me, as an eagle tears a lamb from the ewe. I have no joy in my life, nor in the body of my lord and my husband. A serpent is hid in my marriage bed, my joy is venomed. Oh, that they had wed me to a man that moved me not, rather than be moved to so much hurt.
DAVID: Nay, nay! Oh, nay, nay! Between me and thee is no bitterness, and between my body and thy body there is constant joy! Nay, nay! Thou art a flame to me of man’s forgetting, and God’s presence. Nay, nay! Thou shalt not weep for me, for thou art a delight to me, even a delight and a forgetting.
MICHAL: No! No! Thou leavest me in the night, to make prayers and moaning before the Lord. Oh, that thou hadst never married in thy body the daughter of thine enemy!
DAVID: Say not so, it is a wrong thing; thou art sweet to me, and all my desire.
MICHAL: It is not true! Thou moanest, and leavest me in the night, to fall before the Lord.
DAVID: Yea, trouble is come upon me. And I must take my trouble to the Lord. But thy breasts are my bliss and my forgetting. Oh, do not remember my complaining! But let thyself be sweet to me, and let me sleep among the lilies.
MICHAL: Thou wilt reproach me again with my father.
DAVID: Ah, no! Ah, never I reproached thee! But now I can forget, I can forget all but thee, and the blossom of thy sweetness. Oh, come with me, and let me know thee. For thou art ever again as new to me.
MICHAL (rising as he takes her hand): Nay, thou wilt turn the bitterness of thy spirit upon me again.
DAVID: Ah, no! I will not! But the gate of my life can I open to thee again, and the world of bitterness shall be gone under as in a flood.
MICHAL: And wilt thou not leave me?
DAVID: Nay, lift up thy voice no more, for the hour of speech has passed.
Exeunt DAVID and MICHAL through curtain at back.
SCENE XIV
The same room, unchanged, an hour or so later: but the grey light of day. A WOMAN-SERVANT comes in. There is a wooden image in a corner.
WOMAN-SERVANT: Yea, the lighted lamp, and the food! My lord David hath kept watch again before the Lord, and tears will fall in Michal’s bosom, and darken her heart! Aiee! Aiee! That Saul should so hate the life of David! Surely the evil spirits are strong upon the King.
BOY (entering): Jonathan, the King’s son, is below, knocking softly at the door.
WOMAN-SERVANT: Go! Open swiftly, and make fast again. Aiee! Aiee! My lord Jonathan comes too early for a pleasure visit. I will see if they sleep.
Exit WOMAN-SERVANT through the curtain.
Enter JONATHAN. JONATHAN stands silent, pensive. Goes to window. Re-enter WOMAN-SERVANT. She starts, seeing JONATHAN — then puts her hand on her mouth.
WOMAN-SERVANT: O my lord Jonathan! Hush!
/> JONATHAN: They are sleeping still?
WOMAN-SERVANT: They are sleeping the marriage sleep. David hath even watched before the Lord, in the night. But now with Michal he sleeps the marriage sleep in the lands of peace. Now grant a son shall come of it, to ease the gnawing of Michal’s heart.
JONATHAN: What gnaws in Michal’s heart?
WOMAN-SERVANT: Ah, my lord, her love even for David, that will not be appeased. If the Giver gave her a son, so should her love for David abate, and cease to gnaw in her.
JONATHAN: But why should it gnaw in her? Hath she not got him, and the joy of him?
WOMAN-SERVANT: O Jonathan, she is even as the house of Saul. What she hath cannot appease her.
JONATHAN: What then would she more?
WOMAN-SERVANT: She is of the house of Saul, and her very love is pain to her. Each cloud that crosses her is another death of her love. Ah, it is better to let love come and to let it go, even as the winds of the hills blow along the heavens. The sun shines, and is dulled, and shines again; it is the day, and its alterings; and after, it is night.
JONATHAN: David and Michal are asleep?
WOMAN-SERVANT: In the marriage sleep. Oh, break it not!
JONATHAN: The sun will soon rise. Lo! this house is upon the wall of the city, and the fields and the hills lie open.
WOMAN-SERVANT: Shall I bring food to Jonathan?
JONATHAN: Nay! Hark! Men are crying at the city’s western gate, to open. The day is beginning.
WOMAN-SERVANT: May it bring good to this house!
JONATHAN: It is like to bring evil.
WOMAN-SERVANT: Ah, my lord!
DAVID (appearing through the curtain at the back): Jonathan!
JONATHAN: David! Thou art awake!
DAVID (laughing): Yea! Am I not? Thou art my brother Jonathan, art thou not? (They embrace.)
JONATHAN: O David, the darkness was upon my father in the night, and he hath again bid slay thee. Leave not the house. Unbar not the door! Watch! And be ready to flee! If armed men stand round the door (enter MICHAL), then let down the boy from the window, and send instantly to me. I will come with thy men and with mine, and we will withstand the hosts of Saul, if need be.
MICHAL: Is something new toward?
JONATHAN: My father bade his men take David, and slay him in the dawn. I must away, lest they see that I have warned thee. Farewell, O David!
DAVID: Farewell, my brother Jonathan! But I will come down the stair with thee.
Exeunt DAVID and JONATHAN.
MICHAL: Yea! Yea! So sure as it is well between me and him, so sure as we have peace in one another, so sure as we are together — comes this evil wind, and blows upon us! And oh, I am weary of my life, because of it!
WOMAN-SERVANT: Aiee! Aiee! Say not so, O Michal! For thy days are many before thee.
MICHAL: This time, an they take him, they will surely kill him.
WOMAN-SERVANT: Sayest thou so! Oh, why, in the Lord’s name!
MICHAL: I know it. If they take him this time, he is lost.
WOMAN-SERVANT: Oh, then shall they surely not take him! Oh, but what shall we do?
MICHAL: Creep thou on the roof! Let no man see thee. And there lie: watch if armed men approach the house.
Enter DAVID.
DAVID: There is no one there.
MICHAL: They will come as the sun comes. (To WOMAN.) Go thou and watch.
WOMAN-SERVANT: Verily I will!
Exit WOMAN-SERVANT.
MICHAL: O David! So sure as it is springtime in me, and my body blossoms like an almond-tree, comes this evil wind upon me, and withers my bud! Oh, how can I bring forth children to thee when the spear of this vexation each time pierces my womb?
DAVID: Trouble not thyself, my flower. No wind shall wither thee.
MICHAL: Oh, but I know. This time, an they take thee, thou shalt lose thy life. — And Jonathan will not save thee.
DAVID: Nay! Be not afraid for me.
MICHAL: Yes! I am afraid! I am afraid! Ho! Ho, there! (Claps her hands. Enter BOY. To BOY.) Bring the water-skin for thy master, filled with water. And his pouch with bread — for he goeth on a journey. — O David! David! Now take thy cloak, and thy bow, and thy spear, and put on thy shoes. For thou must go! Jonathan cannot avail thee this time.
DAVID: Nay! Why shall I flee, when the sun is rising?
MICHAL: Yea! If thou go not before the sun is here in the morning shalt thou be slain. Oh make ready! Thy shoes! Put them on! (DAVID reluctantly obeys.) Thy cloak, so they shall not know thee! (He puts it on.) Thy spear and bow!
Enter BOY.
BOY: Here is the pouch and the water-flask.
MICHAL: Run, bring figs and dry curds. Dost thou hear aught at the door?
BOY: Naught!
Exit BOY.
MICHAL: O David, art thou ready! Oh, that thou leavest me!
DAVID: I need not go! Yea, to comfort thee, I will go to the place that Jonathan knoweth of, and thou shalt send thither for me. Or wilt thou —
Re-enter WOMAN-SERVANT.
WOMAN-SERVANT: O Michal! O David, master! There be men-at-arms approaching, under the wall, and walking by stealth. Oh, flee! Oh, flee! for they mean thy life.
MICHAL: Now must thou go by the window, into the fields. I see the sun’s first glitter. Even for this hour have I kept the new rope ready. (She fastens the rope to a stout stake, and flings the ends from the window. To DAVID.) Go! Go! Swiftly be gone!
DAVID: I will come again to thee. Sooner or later as the Lord liveth, I will take thee again to me, unto my bed and my body.
MICHAL: Hark! They knock! Ha — a!
Enter BOY.
BOY: There are men at the door!
MICHAL: Go! Call to them! Ask what they want! But touch thou not the door!
DAVID meanwhile climbs through the window — the stake holds the rope.
WOMAN-SERVANT (climbing with her hands): So! So! So! My lord David! So! So! Swing him not against the wall, O spiteful rope. So! So! He kicks free! Yea! And God be praised, he is on the ground, looking an instant at his hands. So he looks up and departs! Lifts his hand and departs!
MICHAL: Is he gone? Draw in the rope, and hide it safe.
WOMAN-SERVANT: That I will!
Meanwhile MICHAL has flung back the curtain of the recess where the low earthen bank of the bed is seen with skins and covers. She takes the wooden image of a god and lays it in the bed, puts a pillow at its head, and draws the bed-cover high over it.
MICHAL (to herself): Yea, and my house’s god which is in my house, shall lie in my husband’s place, and the image of my family god, which came of old from my mother’s house, shall deceive them. For my house has its own gods, yea, from of old, and shall they forsake me?
Enter BOY.
BOY: They demand to enter. The King asketh for David, that he go before the King’s presence.
MICHAL: Go thou, say to them: My lord and my master, David, is sick in his bed.
BOY: I will say that.
Exit BOY.
WOMAN-SERVANT: Sit thou nigh the bed. And if they still will come up thou shalt say he sleepeth.
MICHAL: Yea, will I. (Sits by bed.) O god of my household, O god of my mother’s house, O god in the bed of David, save me now!
Enter BOY.
BOY: They will e’en set eyes on my master.
MICHAL: Stay! Say to them, that their captains shall come up, two only: but softly, for my lord David hath been sick these three days, and at last sleepeth.
BOY: I will tell them.
Exit BOY.
WOMAN-SERVANT: And I too will go bid them hush.
Exit WOMAN-SERVANT. MICHAL sits in silence. Enter two CAPTAINS with the WOMAN-SERVANT.
WOMAN-SERVANT: There he sleepeth in the bed.
MICHAL: Sh-h-h!
1ST CAPTAIN: I will go even now and tell the King.
Exeunt the CAPTAINS after a pause.
CURTAIN
Curtain rises after a short time on same scene.
WOMAN-S
ERVANT (rushing in): They are coming again down the street, but boldly now.
MICHAL: Yea! Let them come! By this time is David beyond their reach, in the secret place.
WOMAN-SERVANT: Oh, and what shall befall thee! Oh!
MICHAL: I am the King’s daughter. Even Saul shall not lift his hand against me. Go down thou to the door, and hold the men whilst thou mayst. Why should we admit them forthwith? Say that Michal is performing her ablutions.
Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence Page 715