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 strivest to cover shame with shame, Or by evasions thy crime uncover'st more.
Dal. Since thou determinest 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 awed the best resolved of men, The constantest, to have yielded without blame. It was not gold, as to my charge thou layest, That wrought with me. Thou know'st the magistrates And princes of my country came in person, Solicited, commanded, threaten'd, urged, Adjured by all the bonds of civil duty And of religion, press'd how just it was, How honourable, how 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 Dishonourer 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 contest: 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.
1, before all the daughters of my tribe
And of my nation, chose thee from among
My enemies, loved 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 judged 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 pleased, obey'd, or fear'd. These false pretexts and varnish'd colours 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 Eyesight exposes daily men abroad.
I to the lords will intercede, not doubting Their favourable ear, that I may fetch thee From forth this loathsome 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 miss.
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 accursed,
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.
"Let me approach at least, and touch thy hand.
If, in my flower of youth and strength, when all men Loved, honour'd, fear'd me, thou alone couldst hate me 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 uxorious 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. Sams. Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance wake
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 To prayers than winds and seas, yet winds to seas Are reconciled 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 denounced? To mix with thy concernments I desist Henceforth, nor too much disapprove my own. Fame, if not double-faced, 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 aëry flight. My name perhaps among the circumcised, In Dan, in Judah, and the bordering tribes, To all posterity may stand defamed, With malediction mention'd, and the blot Of falsehood most unconjugal traduced. But in my country, where I most desire, In Ecron, Gaza, Ashdod, and in Gath, I shall be named 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 odours visited and annual flowers; Not less renown'd than in Mount Ephraim Jael, who, with inhospitable guile,
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