Dav. Pardon, O king! the coat of plaited mail These limbs have never known; it would not shield, "Twould but encumber one who never felt

The weight of armour.

Saul.

Take thy wish, my son !

Thy sword then, and the God of Jacob, guard thee!

DAVID AND GOLIATH.

PART IV.

SCENE-Another Part of the Camp.

DAVID (kneeling).

ETERNAL Justice! in whose awful scale
Th' event of battle hangs! Eternal Truth!
Whose beam illumines all! Eternal Mercy!
If, by thy attributes I may, unblam'd,

Address thee; Lord of Glory! hear me now:
Oh teach these hands to war, these arms to fight!
Thou ever present help in time of need!
Let thy broad mercy, as a shield, defend,
And let thine everlasting arms support me!
Strong in thy strength, in thy protection safe.
Then, though the heathen rage, I shall not fear.
JEHOVAH, be my buckler! Mighty Lord!
Thou who hast deign'd by humble instruments
To manifest the wonders of thy might,

Be present with me now! 'Tis thine own cause!
Thy wisdom sees events, thy goodness plans
Schemes baffling our conceptions and 'tis still
Omnipotence which executes the deed

Of high design, though by a feeble arm!

I feel a secret impulse drive me on;

And my soul springs impatient for the fight!
'Tis not the heated spirits, or warm blood

Of sanguine youth with which my bosom burns;
And, though I thirst to meet th' insulting foe,
And pant for glory, 'tis not, witness Heav'n!
'Tis not the sinful lust of fading fame,
The perishable praise of mortal man ;
His praise I covet, whose applause is Life.

DAVID, ELIAB, ISRAELITES.

El. What do I hear? thou truant! thou hast dar'd E'en to the awful presence of the king

Bear thy presumption !

Dav.

He who fears the Lord

Shall boldly stand before the face of kings,

And shall not be asham'd.

El.

But what wild dream

Has urg'd thee to this deed of desperate rashness! Thou mean'st, so I have learnt, to meet Goliath, His single arm to thine.

Dav.

'Tis what I purpose,

E'en on this spot. Each moment I expect
His wish'd approach.

El.

Go home; return, for shame!

Nor madly draw destruction on thy head.

Thy doating father, when thy shepherd's coat,
Drench'd in thy blood, is brought him, will lament,
And rend his furrow'd cheek, and silver hair,
As if some mighty loss had touch'd his age:
And mourn, ev'n as the partial patriarch mourn'd,
When Joseph's bloody garment he receiv'd
From his less dear, not less deserving sons.

But whence that glitt'ring ornament which hangs
Useless upon thy thigh?

Dav.
'Tis the king's gift.
But thou art right; it suits not me, my brother!
Nor sword I mean to use, nor spear to poise,
Lest men should say I put my trust in arms,
Not in the Lord of Hosts.

El.

Art bent to seek thy death?

Dav.

Then thou indeed

And what is death?

Is it so terrible to die, my brother?
Or grant it terrible, is it for that
The less inevitable? If, indeed,

We could by stratagem elude the blow,
When some high duty calls us forth to die,
And thus for ever shun it, and escape

The universal lot, then fond self-love,

Then cautious prudence, boldly might produce
Their fine-spun arguments, their learn'd harangues,
Their cobweb arts, their phrase sophistical,
Their subtle doubts, and all the specious trick
Of selfish cunning lab'ring for its end.
But since, howe'er protracted, death will come,
Why fondly study, with ingenious pains,
To put it off!
it off! To breathe a little longer
Is to defer our fate, but not to shun it.
Small gain! which Wisdom with indiff'rent eye
Beholds. Why wish to drink the bitter dregs
Of life's exhausted chalice, whose last runnings,
E'en at the best, are vapid? Why not die
(If Heav'n so will) in manhood's op'ning bloom,
When all the flush of life is gay
about us;

When sprightly youth, with many a new-born joy,
Solicits every sense? So may we then
Present a sacrifice, unmeet, indeed,

(Ah, how unmeet!) but less unworthy far,

Than the world's leavings; than a worn-out heart, By vice enfeebled, and by vain desires

I see him not, but hear his measur'd pace.

El. Look, where his pond'rous shield is borne before him!

Dav. Like a broad moon its ample disk protends. But soft! - what unknown prodigy appears? A moving mountain cas'd in polish'd brass!

El. [getting behind DAVID.] How's this? thou dost not tremble. Thy firm joints

Betray no fear; thy accents are not broken;

Thy cheek retains its red; thine eye its lustre !

He comes more near! Dost thou not fear him now ?

Dav.

The vast colossal statue nor inspires

No.

Respect nor fear. Mere magnitude of form,
Without proportion'd intellect and valour,

Strikes not my soul with rev'rence or with awe.

El. Near and more near he comes! I hold it rash To stay so near him, and expose a life

Which may hereafter serve the state.

Farewell.

[Exit.