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Name torn kingship from you,” said Shmuel. He withdrew to his own lands at Ramah, and never saw Shaul again as a living man. This estrangement sat heavily upon Shaul. Some say it drove him mad.
    As Nizevet had lived through these times, and I had not, I let hertell all this in her own way, waiting patiently for the thread of her account to stitch up once again to her personal story. Which it did, at last, on a day sometime not so very long after that final estrangement, when Shmuel arrived unexpectedly in Beit Lehem, seeking out Yishai.
    â€œI did not know how to feel that day,” she said. “I dreaded Yishai involving himself in intrigues against the king, especially with our elder sons serving at his side. Shmuel made pretense that he had come only to sacrifice, and had brought his servant leading a heifer for that purpose. Yishai and all the elders went up to the altar and did the rites in the presence of the townsfolk. Yishai had told me to make everything ready to receive Shmuel after the rites, and so I did. I had asked the servants to take out the mats from the upper chamber and give them a good beating. I was overseeing their replacement, and ordering in the braziers—it was winter, and very cold—when Yishai and Shmuel arrived. I saw the look on Yishai’s face and it surprised me. He was lit like a torch with pleasure and anticipation. I could not think what could come from Shmuel to affect him in such a way. Shmuel had nothing to give that Yishai could possibly want. The old judge was famous for the austerity of his ways, the simplicity of his household in Ramah. Nor was an evening with him an occasion for levity. He was a stern man who thought only of his duty. Yet here was Yishai, beaming like a man who has just been gifted a pair of oxen.
    â€œI decided the only way to get to the root of it was to be in that room, so in the guise of doing our judge a particular honor I took the tray from the servant and said that I would carry in the meat myself. Yishai gave me a look when I entered the chamber—I did not usually show myself there when guests were present—but he was too preoccupied to spare me more than a second’s thought. When I had handed around the dishes I took up a place in the corner, half hidden by a pillar.
    â€œI saw Shmuel’s head turn sharply as our eldest son, Eliav, entered the room. Shmuel rose and took several steps toward Eliav, who uttered the proper salutations. The old man’s face was creased with linesof concentration as he studied my son. I could see him noting with approval the young man’s height and soldierly bearing, his handsome face, his clear, direct address. I admit it, I was proud as I observed this. Eliav had grown into a fine young man, sober, dutiful, the kind other men readily follow. Shmuel gazed at him a long time, then closed his eyes and raised his hands to heaven. A sour expression passed across his face. He opened his eyes, shook his head and turned back to Yishai. ‘This is not the one.’ Eliav looked startled at this curt response to his courtly greeting. He turned to his father, the confusion clear in his face. Yishai, in turn, looked at Shmuel in bafflement. Shmuel shrugged. ‘Not as man sees does Yah see. Yah sees beyond what is visible. He sees into the heart.’
    â€œYishai laid a consoling hand on Eliav’s shoulder and said softly, ‘Send Avinadav in to us.’ Avinadav was just a little more than a year younger than Eliav, and had lived in his shadow, imitating him in all ways. He, too, was an upright young man, and handsome. But Shmuel waved him off. ‘Yah has not chosen this one either.’ So it went on with all our sons, until even young Natanel, not much more than a boy, had been called for and dismissed in turn.
    â€œâ€˜Are these all the sons you have?’ Shmuel demanded. ‘Is there no other?’ Yishai looked down, not meeting Shmuel’s gaze. I saw him