That all of you have conspired. — The unhappy, jealous spirit had obtained such complete mastery over the unhappy king that now he suspected even the chosen men of his own tribe. All his tried favourites, the men of his own house, even his gallant son, he charged with leaning towards David the traitor, his supplanter in the hearts of Israel.
My son hath made a league. — It would seem as though Saul had learned something of what passed between Jonathan and David when they met for that farewell interview at the memorable New Moon feast; the words respecting the covenant between the two being too pointed and marked to refer only to the well-known ancient friendship between the prince and the son of Jesse.
There is none of you that is sorry for me. — These words of the sad king — tormented as he was by an evil spirit, ever whispering doubt and jealous thoughts into the poor diseased mind — are here strangely real and pathetic.