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I as a prophecy receive; for God,
Nothing more certain, will not long defer
To vindicate the glory of his name

475
Against all competition, nor will long
Indure it doubtful whether God be Lord,
Or Dagon. But for thee what shall be done !
Thou must not in the mean while here forgot
Lie in this miserable loathsome plight
Neglected. I already have made way
To fome Philistian lords, with whom to treat
About thy ransome: well they may by this
Have fatisfied their utmost of revenge
By pains and Naveries, worse than death inflicted 485
On thee, who now no more canft do them harm.

SAMs. Spare that proposal, Father, spare the trouble Of that solicitation; let me here, As I deserve, pay on my punishment; And expiate, if poffible, 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,

495 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 fin That Gentiles in their parables condemn

Soo To their abyss and horrid pains confin'd. MAN. Be penitent and for thy fault contrite,

4.90

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But act not in thy own amiction, Son:
Repent the fin; but if the punishment
Thou ca, avoid, Self-préservation bids;

SOS
Or th' 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 ever more approves and more accepts
(Best pleas'd with humble and filial submission)
Him who imploring mercy sues for life,
Than who felf-rigorous chooses death as due;
Which argues over-just, and self-displeas’d
For self-offense, more than for God offended.

575 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 mayst bring thy offerings, to avert His further ire, with prayers and vows renew'd ? 520

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 Heav'n foretold and high exploits, 525 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

S3® On hostile ground, none daring my affront. Then (woll'n with pride into the snare I fell

Of

Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains,
Soften'd with pleasure and voluptuous life;
At length to lay my head and hallow'd pledge 535
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,
Shav’n, and disarm'd among mine enemies.

540
Cho. 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 chears the heart of Gods and men,

545 Allure thee from the cool crystallin stream.

Sams. Wherever fountain or fresh current flow'd Against the eastern ray, translucent, pure With touch ethereal of Heav’n’s fiery rod, I drank, from the clear milky juice allaying

550 Thirst, and refresh'd; nor envy'd them the grape Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes.

CHO. 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 rear His mighty champion, strong above compare, Whose drink was only from the liquid brook!

SAMs. But what avail'd this temp'rance, not come Against another object more enticing ? [plete What boots it at one gate to make defense, 560 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 Heav'n impos’d, 565
But to fit idle on the houshold hearth,
A burd'nous drone; to visitants a gaze,
Or pity'd object, these redundant locks
Robustions to no purpose clustering down,
Vain monument of strength; till length of years 570
And fedentary numness 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-invoked death

575 Haften the welcome end of all my pains.

Man. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with that Which was exprefly giv’n thee to annoy them? [gift Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle, Inglorious, unemploy'd,. with

age outworn.

580 But God, who causd a fountain at thy prayer From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst t’ allay After the brunt of. battel, can as easy Cause light again within thy eyes to spring, Wherewith to serve him better than thou hast; 585 And I persuade me fo; 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 ine my thoughts portend, That these dark orbs no more ihall treat with light, Nor th' other light of life continue long,

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But yield to double darkness nigh at hand:
So much I feel my genial spirits droop,
My hopes all flat, nature within me seems.

595 In all her functions

weary of herself,
My race of glory run, and race of shame,
And I shall shortly be with them that reft.

Man. Believe not these suggestions, which proceed
From anguish of the mind and humors black, 600
That mingle with thy fancy. I however
Must not omit a father's timely care
To prosecute the means of thy deliverance
By ransome, or how else: mean while be calm,
And healing words from these thy friends admit. 60g

Sams. O that torment should not be confin'd
To the body's wounds and fores,
With maladies innumerable
In heart, head, breast and reins;
But must secret passage find

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To th’inmost mind,
There exercise all his fierce accidents,
And on her pureft fpirits prey,
As on entrails, joints, and limbs,
With answerable pains, but more intense, 615
Though void of corporal sense.

My griefs not only pain me
As a lingring disease,
But finding no redress, ferment and rage,
Nor less than wounds immedicable

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Rankle, and fester, and gangrene,
To black mortification.

Thoughts

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