DAVID AND GOLIATH.

PART II.

SCENE- The Camp.

ELIAB, ABINADAB, ABNER, ISRAELITES.

El. STILL is th' event of this long war uncertain; Still do the adverse hosts on either side

Protract, with ling'ring caution, an encounter,
Which must to one be fatal.

Abin.

This descent,

Thus to the very confines of our land,
Proclaims the sanguine hope that fires the foe.
In Ephes-dammim boldly they encamp:

Th' uncircumcis'd Philistines pitch their tents
On Judah's hallow'd earth.

El.

Full forty days
Has the insulting giant, proud Goliath,
The champion of Philistia, fiercely challeng'd
Some Israelitish foe. But who so vain
To dare such force unequal? who so bent
On sure destruction, to accept his terms,
And rush on death, beneath the giant force
Of his enormous bulk?

Abin.

'Tis near the time When in th' adjacent valley which divides

Th' opposing armies, he is wont to make

His daily challenge.

El.
Much I marvel, brother,
No greetings from our father reach our ears.
With ease and plenty blest, he little recks
The daily hardships which his sons endure.
But see! behold his darling boy approaches!

Abin. How, David here! whence this unlook'd-for

guest?

El. A spy upon our actions; sent, no doubt,
To scan our deeds, with beardless gravity
Affecting wisdom: to observe each word,
To magnify the venial faults of youth,
And construe harmless mirth to foul offence.

Enter DAVID.

Dav. All hail, my dearest brothers!

El.

True love, or arrogant scorn?

Means thy greeting

Oh, most true love!

Dav.
Sweet as the precious ointment which bedew'd
The sacred head of Aaron, and descended
Upon his hallow'd vest; so sweet, my brothers,
Is fond fraternal amity: such love

As my touch'd bosom feels at your approach.

El. Still that fine glozing speech, those holy saws, And all that trick of studied sanctity,

Of smooth-turn'd periods and trim eloquence, Which charms thy doating father! But confess, What dost thou here? Is it to soothe thy pride, And gratify thy vain desire to roam

In quest of pleasures unallow'd? or com'st thou,

A willing spy, to note thy brother's deeds?

Where hast thou left those few poor straggling sheep? More suited to thy ignorance and years

The care of those, than here to wander idly:

Why cam'st thou hither?

Dav.

Is there not a cause?

Why that displeasure kindling in thine eye,
My angry brother? why those taunts unkind?
Not idly bent on sport; not to delight
Mine eye with all this gay parade of war;
To gratify a roving appetite,

Or fondly to indulge a curious ear
With any tale of rumour, am I come;
But to approve myself a loving brother.
I bring the blessing of your aged sire,
With gifts of such plain cates and rural viands
As suit his frugal fortune. Tell me now,
Where the bold Captain of your host encamps?
El. Wherefore enquire? what boots it thee to
know?

Behold him there: great Abner fam'd in arms.

Dav. I bring thee, mighty Abner, from my father (A simple shepherd swain in yonder vale), Such humble gifts as shepherd swains bestow.

Ab. Thanks, gentle youth! with pleasure I receive The grateful off'ring. Why does thy quick eye Thus wander with unsatisfied delight?

Dav. New as I am to all the trade of war, Each sound has novelty; each thing I see Attracts attention; every noise I hear Awakes confus'd emotions; indistinct,

Yet full of charming tumult, sweet distraction.
'Tis all delightful hurry! Oh! the joy
Of young ideas painted on the mind,
In the warm glowing colours fancy spreads
On objects not yet known, when all is new,
And all is lovely! Ah; what warlike sound
Salutes my ravish'd ear?

[Sound of trumpet. Ab. "Tis the Philistine, Proclaiming by his herald, through the ranks, His near approach. Each morning he repeats His challenge to our bands.

Ha! what Philistine?

Dav. Who is he?

El.

Wherefore ask? for thy raw youth

And rustic ignorance, 'twere fitter learn

Some rural art! some secret to prevent
Contagion in thy flocks; some better means.
To save their fleece immaculate. These mean arts
Of soft inglorious peace far better suit
Thy low obscurity, than thus to seek
High things pertaining to exploits of arms.
Dav. Urg'd as I am, I will not answer thee.
Who conquers his own spirit, O my brother!
He is the only conqueror.-. Again

That shout myterious! Pray you, (to Abner) tell me who

This proud Philistine is, who sends defiance

To Israel's hardy chieftains?

Ab.

Stranger youth!

So lovely and so mild is thy demeanour,
So gentle and so patient; such the air
Of candour and of courage which adorns

Thy blooming features, thou hast won my love:
And I will tell thee.

Dav.

Mighty Abner, thanks!

Ab. Thrice, and no more, he sounds, his daily rule!
This man of war, this champion of Philistia,
Is of the sons of Anak's giant-race;
Goliath is his name. His fearful stature,
Unparallel'd in Israel, measures more

Than twice three cubits. On his tow'ring head
A helm of burnish'd brass the giant wears,
So pond'rous, it would crush the stoutest man
In all our hosts. A coat of mailed armour
Guards his capacious trunk; compar'd with which,
The amplest oak that spreads his rugged arms.
In Bashan's grove were small. About his neck
A shining corslet hangs. On his vast thigh
The plaited cuirass, firmly jointed, stands.
But who shall tell the wonders of his spear,
And hope to gain belief? Of massive iron
Its temper'd frame; not less than the broad beam
To which the busy weaver hangs his loom:
Not to be wielded by a mortal hand,

Save by his own. An armour-bearer walks
Before this mighty champion, in his hand
Bearing the giant's shield. Thrice ev'ry morn
His herald sounds the trumpet of defiance!
Off'ring at once to end the long-drawn war
In single combat, 'gainst that hardy foe
Who dares encounter him.

Dav.

Say, mighty Abner,

What are the haughty terms of his defiance?

Ab. Proudly he stalks around th' extremest bounds.