The mystery of God given me under pledge Of vow, and have betray'd it to a woman, A Canaanite, my faithless enemy. This well I knew, nor was at all surpris'd, But warn'd by oft experience: did not she Of Timna first betray me, and reveal The secret wrested from me in her height Of nuptial love profess'd, carrying it straight To them who had corrupted her, my spies, And rivals? In this other was there found More faith, who also in her prime of love, Spousal embraces, vitiated with gold, Though offer'd only, by the scent conceiv'd Her spurious first-born, treason against me?
Thrice she assay'd with flattering prayers and sighs, "Twixt God and Dagon; Dagon hath presum'd, And amorous reproaches, to win from me My capital secret, in what part my strength Lay stor'd, in what part summ'd, that she might know; Thrice I deluded her, and turn'd to sport Her importunity, each time perceiving How openly, and with what impudence
She purpos'd to betray me, and (which was worse Than undissembled hate) with what contempt She sought to make me traitor to myself; Yet the fourth time, when, mustering all her wiles, With blandish'd parleys, feminine assaults, Tongue-batteries, she surceas'd not, day nor night, To storm me over-watch'd, and wearied out. At times when men seek most repose and rest, I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart, Who, with a grain of manhood well resolv'd, Might easily have shook off all her snares: But foul effeminacy held me yok'd Her bond-slave; O indignity, O blot To honor and religion! servile mind Rewarded well with servile punishment! The base degree to which I now am fall'n, These rags, this grinding, is not yet so base As was my former servitude, ignoble, Unmanly, ignominious, infamous,
True slavery, and that blindness worse than this That saw not how degenerately I serv'd.
Man. I cannot praise thy marriage-choices, son. Rather approv'd them not; but thou didst plead Divine impulsion prompting how thou might'st Find some occasion to infest our foes.
I state not that; this I am sure, our foes Found soon occasion thereby to make thee Their captive, and their triumph; thou the sooner Temptation found'st, or over-potent charms, To violate the sacred trust of silence Deposited within thee; which to have kept Tacit was in thy power: true; and thou bear'st Enough, and more the burthen of that fault; Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying, That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains; This day the Philistines a popular feast Here celebrate in Gaza; and proclaim Great pomp, and sacrifices, and praises loud, To Dagon, as their god who hath deliver'd Thee, Samson, bound and blind into their hands. Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slain. So Dagon shall be magnified, and God, Besides whom is no God, compar'd with idols, Disglorified, blasphem'd, and had in scorn By the idolatrous rout amidst their wine; Which to have come to pass by means of thee, Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest, Of all reproach the most with shame that ever Could have befall'n thee and thy father's house.
Me overthrown, to enter lists with God, His deity comparing and preferring Before the God of Abraham. He, be sure, Will not connive, or linger, thus provok'd, But will arise, and his great name assert: Dagon must stoop, and shall ere long receive Such a discomfit, as shall quite despoil him Of all these boasted trophies won on me, And with confusion blank his worshippers. Man. With cause this hope relieves thee and these words
I as a prophecy receive; for God, Nothing more certain, will not long defer To vindicate the glory of his name Against all competition, nor will long Endure it doubtful, whether God be Lord, Or Dagon. But for thee what shall be done? Thou must not, in the meanwhile here forgot, Lie in this miserable lothesome plight, Neglected. I already have made way To some Philistian lords, with whom to treat About thy ransom: well they may by this Have satisfied their utmost of revenge
By pains and slaveries, worse than death, inflicted On thee, who now no more canst do them harm. Sams. Spare that proposal, father; spare the
Of that solicitation; let me here, As I deserve, pay on my punishment; And expiate, if possible, my crime, Shameful garrulity. To have reveal'd Secrets of men, the secrets of a friend, How heinous had the fact been, how deserving Contempt and scorn of all, to be excluded All friendship, and avoided as a blab, The mark of fool set on his front? But I God's counsel have not kept, his holy secret Presumptuously have publish'd, impiously Weakly at least, and shamefully; a sin That Gentiles in their parables condemn To their abyss and horrid pains confin'd. Man. Be penitent, and for thy fault contrite; But act not in thy own affliction, son; Repent the sin; but, if the punishment Thou canst avoid, self-preservation bids; Or the execution leave to high disposal, And let another hand, not thine, exact Thy penal forfeit from thyself: perhaps God will relent, and quit thee all his debt; Who evermore approves, and more accepts, (Best pleas'd with humble and filial submission,, Him, who, imploring mercy, sues for life, Than who, self-rigorous, chooses death as due; Which argues over-just, and self-displeased For self-offence, more than for God offended.
Reject not then what offer'd means; who knows But God hath set before us, to return thee Home to thy country and his sacred house, Where thou may'st bring thy offerings, to avert His further ire, with prayers and vows renew'd?
Sams. His pardon I implore; but as for life, To what end should I seek it? when in strength All mortals I excell'd, and great in hopes With youthful courage, and magnanimous thoughts, Of birth from Heaven foretold, and high exploits, Full of divine instinct, after some proof Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond The sons of Anak, famous now and blaz'd, Fearless of danger, like a petty god
I walk'd about admir'd of all, and dreaded On hostile ground, none daring my affront. Then swoll'n with pride into the snare I fell Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains, Soften'd with pleasure and voluptuous life. At length to lay my head and hallow'd pledge Of all my strength in the lascivious lap Of a deceitful concubine, who shore me Like a tame wether, all my precious fleece, Then turn'd me out ridiculous, despoil'd, Shaven, and disarm'd among mine enemies.
Chor. Desire of wine and all delicious drinks, Which many a famous warrior overturns, Thou couldst repress; nor did the dancing ruby Sparkling, out-pour'd, the flavor, or the smell, Or taste that cheers the heart of gods or men, Allure thee from the cool crystalline stream. Sams. Wherever fountain or fresh current flow'd Against the eastern ray, translucent, pure With touch ethereal of Heaven's fiery rod, I drank, from the clear milky juice allaying Thirst, and refresh'd: nor envied them the grape Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes. Chor. O madness, to think use of strongest wines And strongest drinks our chief support of health, When God with these forbidd'n made choice to
His mighty champion, strong above compare, Whose drink was only from the liquid brook. Sams. But what avail'd this temperance, not com- plete
Against another object more enticing? What boots it at one gate to make defence, And at another to let in the foe, Effeminately vanquish'd? by which means, Now blind, dishearten'd, sham'd, dishonor'd, quell'd, To what can I be useful, wherein serve My nation, and the work from Heaven impos'd, But to sit idle on the household hearth, A burdenous drone; to visitants a gaze, Or pitied object, these redundant locks Robustious to no purpose clustering down, Vain monument of strength; till length of years And sedentary numbness craze my limbs To a contemptible old age obscure? Here rather let me drudge, and earn my bread; Till vermin, or the draff of servile food, Consume me, and oft-invocated death Hasten the welcome end of all my pains.
After the brunt of battle, can as easy Cause light again within thy eyes to spring, Wherewith to serve him better than thou hast : And I persuade me so; why else this strength Miraculous yet remaining in those locks? His might continues in thee not for nought, Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus.
Sams. All otherwise to me my thoughts portend, That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light Nor the other light of life continue long, But yield to double darkness nigh at hand : So much I feel my genial spirits droop, My hopes all flat, Nature within me seems In all her functions weary of herself; My race of glory run, and race of shame, And I shall shortly be with them that rest.
Man. Believe not these suggestions, which proceed From anguish of the mind and humors black, That mingle with thy fancy. I however Must not omit a father's timely care To prosecute the means of thy deliverance By ransom, or how else: meanwhile be calm, And healing words from these thy friends admit. [Exil
Sams. O that torment should not be confin'd To the body's wounds and sores, With maladies innumerable
In heart, head, breast, and reins; But must secret passage find To the inmost mind,
There exercise all his fierce accidents, And on her purest spirits prey, As on entrails, joints, and limbs, With answerable pains, but more intense, Though void of corporal sense.
My griefs not only pain me As a lingering disease,
But, finding no redress, ferment and rage; Nor less than wounds immedicable Rankle, and fester, and gangrene, To black mortification.
Thoughts, my tormentors, arm'd with deadly stings Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts, Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise
Dire inflammation, which no cooling herb Or med'cinal liquor can assuage,
Nor breath of vernal air from snowy Alp. Sleep hath forsook and given me o'er To death's benumbing opium as my only cure: Thence faintings, swoonings of despair, And sense of Heaven's desertion.
I was his nurseling once, and choice delight, His destin'd from the womb,
Promis'd by heavenly message twice descending. Under his special eye
Abstemious I grew up, and thriv'd amain; He led me on to mightiest deeds,
Above the nerve of mortal arm,
Against the uncircumcis'd, our enemies:
But now hath cast me off as never known, And to those cruel enemies,
Whom I by his appointment had provok'd, Left me all helpless, with the irreparable loss
Man. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with Of sight, reserv'd alive to be repeated
Which was expressly given thee to annoy them? Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle, Inglorious, unemploy'd, with age outworn. But God, who caus'd a fountain at thy prayer From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst to allay
The subject of their cruelty or scorn. Nor am I in the list of them that hope; Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless : This one prayer yet remains, might I be heard No long petition, speedy death,
The close of all my miseries, and the balm.
Chor. Many are the sayings of the wise, In ancient and in modern books enroll'd, Extolling patience as the truest fortitude; And to the bearing well of all calamities, All chances incident to man's frail life, Consolatories writ
With studied argument, and much persuasion sought, Lenient of grief and anxious thought:
But with the afflicted in his pangs their sound Little prevails, or rather seems a tune
Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint; Unless he feel within
Some source of consolation from above,
Secret refreshings, that repair his strength, And fainting spirits uphold.
God of our fathers, what is man!
That thou towards him with hand so various,
Or might I say contrarious,
An amber scent of odorous perfume Her harbinger, a damsel train behind; Some rich Philistian matron she may seem; And now at nearer view, no other certain Than Dalila thy wife.
[near me. Sams. My wife! my traitress: let her not come Chor. Yet on she moves, now stands and eyes thee fix'd,
About to have spoke; but now, with head declin'd. Like a fair flower surcharg'd with dew, she weeps, And words address'd seem into tears dissolv'd, Wetting the borders of her silken veil :
But now again she makes address to speak.
Dal. With doubtful feet and wavering resolution
I came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson, Which to have merited, without excuse,
Temper'st thy providence through his short course, I cannot but acknowledge; yet, if tears
Not evenly, as thou rul'st
The angelic orders, and inferior creatures mute, Irrational and brute.
Nor do I name of men the common rout, That, wandering loose about,
Grow up and perish, as the summer-fly, Heads without name no more remember'd; But such as thou hast solemnly elected, With gifts and graces eminently adorn'd, To some great work, thy glory,
And people's safety, which in part they effect: Yet toward these thus dignified, thou oft, Amidst their height of noon,
May expiate, (though the fact more evil drew In the perverse event than I foresaw,)
My penance hath not slacken'd, though my pardon No way assur'd. But conjugal affection, Prevailing over fear and timorous doubt, Hath led me on, desirous to behold Once more thy face, and know of thy estate, If aught in my ability may serve
To lighten what thou suffer'st, and appease Thy mind with what amends is in my power, Though late, yet in some part to recompense My rash, but more unfortunate, misdeed.
Sams. Out, out, hyena! these are thy wonted arts
Changest thy countenance, and thy hand, with no And arts of every woman false like thee,
From thee on them, or them to thee of service. Nor only dost degrade them, or remit
To life obscur'd, which were a fair dismission, But throw'st them lower than thou didst exalt them high,
Unseemly falls in human eye,
Too grievous for the trespass or omission;
Oft leav'st them to the hostile sword
Of heathen and profane, their carcasses
To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captiv'd;
Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times, And condemnation of the ingrateful multitude. If these they 'scape, perhaps in poverty With sickness and disease thou bow'st them down, Painful diseases and deform'd
Though not disordinate, yet causeless suffering The punishment of dissolute days: in fine, Just, or unjust, alike seem miserable, For oft alike both come to evil end.
So deal not with this once thy glorious champion, The image of thy strength, and mighty minister. What do I beg? how hast thou dealt already? Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn His labors, for thou canst, to peaceful end.- But who is this, what thing of sea or land? Female of sex it seems,
That so bedeck'd, ornate, and gay, Comes this way sailing
Like a stately ship
Of Tarsus, bound for the isles
Of Javan or Gadire
With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, Sails fill'd, and streamers waving,
Courted by all the winds that hold them play,
To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray, Then as repentant to submit, beseech, And reconcilement move with feign'd remorse, Confess, and promise wonders in her change; Not truly penitent, but chief to try
Her husband, how far urg'd his patience bears, His virtue or weakness which way to assail : Then with more cautious and instructed skill Again transgresses, and again submits; That wisest and best men, full oft beguil'd, With goodness principled not to reject The penitent, but ever to forgive, Are drawn to wear out miserable days, Entangled with a poisonous bosom snake, If not by quick destruction soon cut off, As I by thee, to ages an example.
Dal. Yet hear me, Samson; not that I endeavor To lessen or extenuate my offence, But that on the other side, if it be weigh'd By itself, with aggravations not surcharg'd, Or else with just allowance counterpois'd, I may, if possible, thy pardon find The easier towards me, or thy hatred less. First, granting, as I do, it was a weakness In me, but incident to all our sex, Curiosity, inquisitive, impórtune,
Of secrets, then, with like infirmity To publish them, both common female faults: Was it not weakness also to make known For importunity, that is, for nought, Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety? To what I did thou show'dst me first the way. But I to enemies reveal'd, and should not:
Nor shouldst thou have trusted that to woman's
Ere I to thee, thou to thyself wast cruel.
Let weakness then with weakness come to parle,
So near related, or the same of kind. Thine forgive mine; that men may censure thine The gentler, if severely thou exact not More strength from me, than in thyself was found. And what if love, which thou interpret'st hate, The jealousy of love, powerful of sway In human hearts, nor less in mind towards thee, Caus'd what I did? I saw thee mutable
Of fancy, fear'd lest one day thou wouldst leave me As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore How to endear, and hold thee to me firmest : No better way I saw than by importuning To learn thy secrets, get into my power Thy key of strength and safety: thou wilt say, Why then reveal? I was assur'd by those Who tempted me, that nothing was design'd Against thee but safe custody, and hold: That made for me; I knew that liberty Would draw thee forth to perilous enterprises, While I at home sat full of cares and fears, Wailing thy absence in my widow'd bed; Here I should still enjoy thee, day and night, Mine and love's prisoner, not the Philistines', Whole to myself, unhazarded abroad, Fearless at home of partners in my love. These reasons in love's law have past for good, Though fond and reasonless to some perhaps : And love hath oft, well-meaning, wrought much woe, Yet always pity or pardon hath obtain'd.
Be not unlike all others, not austere As thou art strong, inflexible as steel.
If thou in strength all mortals dost exceed, In uncompassionate anger do not so.
Sams. How cunningly the sorceress displays Her own transgressions, to upbraid me mine? That malice, not repentance, brought thee hither, By this appears: I gave, thou say'st, the example, I led the way: bitter reproach, but true; I to myself was false ere thou to me; Such pardon therefore as I give my folly, Take to thy wicked deed; which when thou seest Impartial, self-severe, inexorable,
Thou wilt renounce thy seeking, and much rather Confess it feign'd: weakness is thy excuse, And I believe it; weakness to resist Philistian gold: if weakness may excuse, What murderer, what traitor, parricide, Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it? All wickedness is weakness: that plea therefore With God or man will gain thee no remission. But love constrain'd thee; call it furious rage To satisfy thy lust love seeks to have love; My love how couldst thou hope, who took'st the way To raise in me inexpiable hate,
Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betray'd? In vain thou striv'st to cover shame with shame, Or by evasions thy crime uncover'st more.
Dal. Since thou determin'st weakness for no plea In man or woman, though to thy own condemning, Hear what assaults I had, what snares besides, What sieges girt me round, ere I consented; Which might have aw'd the best resolv'd of men, The constantest, to have yielded without blame. It was not gold, as to my charge thou lay'st, That wrought with me: thou know'st the magistrates And princes of my country came in person, Solicited, commanded, threaten'd, urg'd, Adjur'd by all the bonds of civil duty And of religion. press'd how just was, How honorable, now glorious, to entrap
A common enemy, who had destroy'd Such numbers of our nation: and the priest Was not behind, but ever at my ear, Preaching how meritorious with the gods It would be to ensnare an irreligious Dishonorer of Dagon: what had I To oppose against such powerful arguments? Only my love of thee held long debate, And combated in silence all these reasons With hard contést: at length that grounded maxim, So rife and celebrated in the mouths Of wisest men, that to the public good Private respects must yield, with grave authority Took full possession of me, and prevail'd; Virtue, as I thought, truth, duty, so enjoining.
Sams. I thought where all thy circling wiles would end;
In feign'd religion, smooth hypocrisy ! But had thy love, still odiously pretended, Been, as it ought, sincere, it would have taught thee Far other reasonings, brought forth other deeds. I, before all the daughters of my tribe
And of my nation, chose thee from among My enemies, lov'd thee, as too well thou knew'st, Too well; unbosom'd all my secrets to thee, Not out of levity, but overpower'd
By thy request, who could deny thee nothing: Yet now am judg'd an enemy. Why then Didst thou at first receive me for thy husband, Then, as since then, thy country's foe profess'd? Being once a wife, for me thou wast to leave Parents and country; nor was I their subject, Nor under their protection, but my own, Thou mine, not theirs; if aught against my life Thy country sought of thee, it sought unjustly, Against the law of nature, law of nations; No more thy country, but an impious crew Of men conspiring to uphold their state By worse than hostile deeds, violating the ends For which our country is a name so dear; Not therefore to be obey'd. But zeal moved thee; To please thy gods thou didst it; gods, unable To acquit themselves and prosecute their foes But by ungodly deeds, the contradiction Of their own deity, gods cannot be ; Less therefore to be pleas'd, obey'd or fear'd. These false pretexts, and varnish'd colors failing, Bare in thy guilt, how foul must thou appear?
Dal. In argument with men, a woman ever Goes by the worse whatever be her cause. Sams. For want of words, no doubt, or lack of breath, Witness when I was worried with thy peals.
Dal. I was a fool, too rash, and quite mistaken In what I thought would have succeeded best. Let me obtain forgiveness of thee, Samson; Afford me place to show what recompense Towards thee I intend for what I have misdone, Misguided; only what remains past cure Bear not too sensibly, nor still insist To afflict thyself in vain: though sight be lost. Life yet hath many solaces, enjoy'd Where other senses want not their delights At home in leisure and domestic ease, Exempt from many a care and chance, to which Eye-sight exposes daily men abroad.
I to the lords will intercede, not doubting Their favorable ear, that I may fetch thee From forth this lothesome prison-house to abide With me, where my redoubled love and care With nursing diligence, to me glad office.
May ever tend about thee to old age, With all things grateful cheer'd, and so supplied, That, what by me thou hast lost, thou least shalt
Sams. No, no; of my condition take no care; It fits not; thou and I long since are twain; Nor think me so unwary or accurs'd, To bring my feet again into the snare Where once I have been caught: I know thy trains, Though dearly to my cost, thy gins, and toils; Thy fair enchanted cup, and warbling charms, No more on me have power; their force is null'd; So much of adder's wisdom I have learn'd, To fence my ear against thy sorceries.
If in my flower of youth and strength, when all men Lov'd, honor'd, fear'd me, thou alone couldst hate
Thy husband, slight me, sell me, and forego me; How wouldst thou use me now, blind, and thereby Deceivable, in most things as a child Helpless, thence easily contemn'd and scorn'd, And last neglected! How wouldst thou insult, When I must live uxurious to thy will In perfect thraldom! how again betray me, Bearing my words and doings to the lords To gloss upon, and, censuring, frown or smile! This jail I count the house of liberty
To thine, whose doors my feet shall never enter. Dal. Let me approach at least, and touch thy hand.
[wake Sams. Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint. At distance I forgive thee; go with that; Bewail thy falsehood, and the pious works It hath brought forth to make thee memorable Among illustrious women, faithful wives! Cherish thy hasten'd widowhood with the gold Of matrimonial treason! so farewell.
Dal. I see thou art implacable, more deaf
Chor. She's gone, a manifest serpent by her sting Discover'd in the end, till now conceal'd.
Sams. So let her go; God sent her to debase me, And aggravate my folly, who committed To such a viper his most sacred trust Of secrecy, my safety, and my life.
Chor. Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd, nor can be easily Repuls'd, without much inward passion felt And secret sting of amorous remorse.
Sams. Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end Not wedlock-treachery endangering life.
Chor. It is not virtue, wisdom, valor, wit, Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit, That woman's love can win, or long inherit; But what it is, hard is to say, Harder to hit,
(Which way soever men refer it,) Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day Or seven, though one should musing sit.
If any of these, or all, the Timnian bride Had not so soon preferr'd
Thy paranymph, worthless to thee compar'd, Successor in thy bed,
Nor both so loosely disallied
Their nuptials, nor this last so treacherous Had shorn the fatal harvest of thy head. Is it for that such outward ornament Was lavish'd on their sex, that inward gifts Were left for haste unfinish'd, judgment scant, Capacity not rais'd to apprehend
Or value what is best
In choice, but oftest to affect the wrong?
To prayers, than winds and seas; yet winds to seas Or was too much of self-love mix'd,
Are reconcil'd at length, and sea to shore:
Thy anger, unappeasable, still rages, Eternal tempest, never to be calm'd.
Why do I humble thus myself, and, suing
For peace, reap nothing but repulse and hate? Bid go with evil omen, and the brand Of infamy upon my name denounc'd? To mix with thy concernments I desist Henceforth, nor too much disapprove my own. Fame, if not double-fac'd, is double-mouth'd, And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds; On both his wings, one black, the other white, Bears greatest names in his wild aery flight. My name perhaps among the circumcis'd In Dan, in Judah, and the bordering tribes, To all posterity may stand defam'd, With malediction mention'd, and the blot Of falsehood most unconjugal traduc'd. But in my country, where I most desire, In Ecron, Gaza, Ashdod, and in Gath, I shall be nam'd among the famousest Of women, sung at solemn festivals, Living and dead recorded, who, to save Her country from a fierce destroyer, chose Above the faith of wedlock-bands; my tomb With odors visited and annual flowers; Not less renown'd than in mount Ephraim Jael, who with hospitable guile
Of constancy no root infix'd,
That either they love nothing, or not long? Whate'er it be, to wisest men and best Seeming at first all heavenly under virgin veil, Soft, modest, meek, demure,
Once join'd, the contrary she proves, a thorn Intestine, far within defensive arms A cleaving mischief, in his way to virtue Adverse and turbulent, or by her charms Draws him awry enslav'd
With dotage, and his sense deprav'd
To folly and shameful deeds which ruin ends. What pilot so expert but needs must wreck Embark'd with such a steers-mate at the helm ? Favor'd of Heaven, who finds One virtuous, rarely found,
That in domestic good combines :
Happy that house! his way to peace is smooth But virtue, which breaks through all opposition And all temptation can remove,
Most shines, and most is acceptable above
Therefore God's universal law
Gave to the man despotic power Over his female in due awe,
Nor from that right to part an hour, Smile she or lour:
So shall he least confusion draw On his whole life, not sway'd
Smote Sisera sleeping, through the temples tail'd. By female usurpation, or dismay'd.
Nor shall I count it heinous to enjoy
But had we best retire? I see a storm
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