No; But he is sent for--and will ease him--Ah! He’s wonderful to heal the king with his harp! A waft, a sunny leap of melody, And swift the hovering mad shadow’s gone-- As magic! ISHUI Michal.… Curst! MICHAL What anger’s this? ISHUI Disdaining Doeg and his plea to dust, His waiting and the winning-o’er of Edom, You are enamoured of this David too? MICHAL I think my brother Ishui hath a fever. [_She goes--calmly, with Miriam._] ISHUI Now are you kindled--are you quivering, Or must this shepherd put upon us more? ADRIEL But has he not dealt honorably? ISHUI No. ADRIEL Why do you urge it? ISHUI Why have senses. He With Samuel the prophet fast enshrouds Some secret, and has Samuel not told The kingdom from my father shall be rent And fall unto another? ADRIEL You are certain? ISHUI As granite. [_Voices are heard in altercation._] Yonder! ADRIEL The king? ISHUI And Samuel With prophecy or some refusal tears him! [_They step aside._ SAUL _followed by_ SAMUEL _strides in and mounts the throne_.] SAUL You threat, and ever thunder threatening! Pour seething prophesy into my veins, Till a simoon of madness in me moves. Am I not king, the king? chosen and sealed? Who’ve been anathema and have been bane Unto the foes of Israel, and filled The earth with death of them? And do you still forbid that I bear gold And bribe away this Philistine array Folded about us, fettering with flame? SAMUEL Yes,--yes! While there is air, and awe of Heaven Do I forbid! A champion must rise To level this Goliath. Thus may we Loose on them pest of panic and of fear. SAUL Are forty days not dead? A champion! None will arise--’tis vain. And I’ll not wait On miracle. SAMUEL Offer thy daughter then, Michal, thy fairest, to whoever shall. SAUL Demand and drain for more! without an end. Ever vexation! No; I will not. SAMUEL Then, Out of Jehovah and a vast foreseen I tell thee again, thou perilous proud king, The sceptre shall slip from thee to another! [_He moves to go._] SAUL The sceptre.… SAMUEL To another! SAUL From me! No! You rouse afar the billowing of ill. I grant--go not!--I grovel to your will, Fear it and fawn as to omnipotence, [_Snatching at_ SAMUEL’S _mantle_.] And vow to all its divination--all! SAMUEL