Oh, oh, Gazelles of Israel, struck down on your hills, the mighty warriors—fallen, fallen! Don’t announce it in the city of Gath, don’t post the news in the streets of Ashkelon. Don’t give those coarse Philistine girls one more excuse for a drunken party! No more dew or rain for you, hills of Gilboa, and not a drop from springs and wells, For there the warriors’ shields were dragged through the mud, Saul’s shield left there to rot.

“All right,” said David, “have it your way. Stay for the day and I’ll send you back tomorrow.” So Uriah stayed in Jerusalem the rest of the day. The next day David invited him to eat and drink with him, and David got him drunk. But in the evening Uriah again went out and slept with his master’s servants. He didn’t go home.