The messenger set out; he came and told David all that Joab had sent him to say. The messenger said to David, ‘First the men prevailed against us and sallied out against us into the open; then we drove them back up to the entrance to the gate. But the archers shot at your men from the wall and some of Your Majesty’s men fell; your servant Uriah the Hittite also fell.’ (2 Samuel 11:23-24)

Rembrandt has sketched the report of Uriah’s death with David, in full royal garb, exhibiting a degree of surprise at hearing the news. His expression can be contrasted with that of the prophet Nathan who stands on the sidelines. His countenance is full of sadness, perhaps at the tragic death of Uriah, as well as the circumstances which occasioned it. Note the empty chair in the far left, perhaps symbolic of the royal chair, which David has abdicated. The messenger enters carrying Uriah’s sword and belongings in order to establish the identity of the victim.  The irony is palpable; there is no doubt in David’s mind who was killed, since it was he who ordered the liquidation.

David summoned Uriah the Hittite to Jerusalem. He inquired as to the welfare of the campaign and the troops on the front. Thereafter, in a gesture, which ostensibly demonstrated his concern for the weary soldier, David invited Uriah to spend time at home with his wife. Instead, Uriah chose to spend the evening with the king’s servants. The bewildering question with which the reader is left is: did Uriah know what had happened? The text is ironic. One way to read the story is to take Uriah’s own testimony as a reflection of his guilessness. He hasn’t a clue.

The Ark and Israel and Judah are located at Succoth, and my master Joab and Your Majesty’s men are camped in the open; how can I go home and eat and drink and sleep with my wife. As you live, by your very life, I will not do this. (2 Samuel 11:11)

Uriah is an exemplary soldier, a noble man of conscience. Even when inebriated, his esprit de corps is unwavering. Uriah is the foil to David. He will not do what the king has done. His personal needs are of no concern when the nation is at war.

But Uriah’s words could be read as an implicit indictment of the king. Calling Joab ‘my master’ and not complying with the king’s wishes that he sleep with his wife may serve to undermine his majesty and to clue the reader into the fact that Uriah is well aware of David’s misdemeanors.

When all else failed, David decided that Uriah had to be eliminated. He sent him back to the front to die at the hands of the enemy. In a gesture of utmost cruelty David has Uriah deliver his own writ of execution. Perhaps the king has lost his balance. His actions are irrational:  ‘It is a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.’

One wonders whether on some sub-conscious level David actually hoped Uriah would open the letter. This would either cause him to flee (and then David would be rid of him without bloodshed), or perhaps if Uriah did open the letter he would then be guilty of a punishable crime. But such was not to be the case.

Uriah loyally delivered the letter and was put to death. Joab then sent word back to David. He did not send a letter, but a messenger. Knowing the king, Joab anticipates his agitation and instructs the messenger to react to his moods.

Joab sent a full report of the battle to David. He instructed the messenger as follows: When you finish reporting to the king all about the battle, the king may get angry and say to you,  ‘Why did you come so close to the city to attack it? Didn’t you know that they would shoot from the wall? Who struck down Abimelech son of Jerubbeshet? Was it not a woman who dropped an upper millstone on him from the wall at Thebez, from which he died? Why did you come so close to the wall?’ Then say: ‘Your servant Uriah was among those killed.’ (2 Samuel 11:18-21)

Joab cleverly inserts a reference to Abimelech, who died when a woman threw a millstone from the wall. This reference is not simply intended to explain the inevitability of the tragedy resulting from a military faux pas, it is to implicate David.

Professor Menachem Perry notes:

Both David and Abimelech fall because of a woman (so in still another sense does Uriah); what is more, the notorious incident of Abimelech’s death bears for both Joab and the reader connotations of disgrace brought on royalty by a woman’s hand, followed by a cover up.

Perhaps Joab hopes to evoke some degree of remorse in David’s heart by pointing to Abimelech’s ignonimous end. He is unsuccessful. Relieved to learn that Uriah has been killed, David simply assumes a calculating official posture as the Chief of Staff assuring the messenger that from a perspective of war such things happen:

Whereupon David said to the messenger, Give Joab this message: ‘Do not be distressed about the matter. The sword always takes its toll. Press your attack on the city and destroy it; encourage him.’ (11:25)

But the story is not over. His royal highness will fall from grace and be forced to confront the reality from which he believes he has escaped. He who covers up his faults will not succeed; He who confesses and gives them up will find mercy (Proverbs 28:13) – as will immediately become clear when David is visited by the prophet Nathan who is portrayed by Rembrandt about to enter the scene, stage right.