SAMSON AGONISTES 1667-1671 THE ARGUMENT.-SAMSON, made captive, blind, and now in the prison at Gaza, there to labour as in a common workhouse, on a festival day, in the general cessation from labour, comes forth into the open air, to a place nigh, somewhat retired, there to sit awhile and bemoan his condition. Where he happens at length to be visited by certain friends and equals of his tribe, which make the Chorus, who seek to comfort him what they can; then by his old father, Manoa, who endeavours the like, and withal tells him his purpose to procure his liberty by ransom; lastly, that this feast was proclaimed by the Philistines as a day of thanksgiving for their deliverance from the hands of Samson-which yet more troubles him. Manoa then departs to prosecute his endeavour with the Philistian lords for Samson's redemption: who, in the meanwhile, is visited by other persons, and, lastly, by a public officer to require his coming to the feast before the lords and people, to play or shew his strength in their presence. He at first refuses, dismissing the public officer with absolute denial to come; at length, persuaded inwardly that this was from God, he yields to go along with him, who came now the second time with great threatenings to fetch him. The Chorus yet remaining on the place, Manoa returns full of joyful hope to procure ere long his son's deliverance; in the midst of which discourse an Ebrew comes in haste, confusedly at first, and afterwards more distinctly, relating the catastrophe-what Samson had done to the Philistines, and by accident to himself; wherewith the Tragedy ends. THE PERSONS SAMSON. MANOA, the father of Samson. HARAPHA of Gath. S DALILA, his wife. Chorus of Danites. The Scene, before the Prison in Gaza. AMSON. A little onward lend thy guiding hand To these dark steps, a little further on; For yonder bank hath choice of sun or shade. There I am wont to sit, when any chance Relieves me from my task of servile toil, 418 Daily in the common prison else enjoined me, Unwholesome draught. But here I feel amends- To Dagon, their sea-idol, and forbid But rush upon me thronging, and present Times past, what once I was, and what am now. His godlike presence, and from some great act Designed for great exploits, if I must die Betrayed, captived, and both my eyes put out, Made of my enemies the scorn and gaze, To grind in brazen fetters under task With this heaven-gifted strength? O glorious strength, Put to the labour of a beast, debased Lower than bond-slave! Promise was that I Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver! Had been fulfilled but through mine own default? Whom have I to complain of but myself, By weakest subtleties; not made to rule, Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, Annulled, which might in part my grief have eased Of man or worm, the vilest here excel me: Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. Without all hope of day! O first-created Beam, and thou great Word, The Sun to me is dark And silent as the Moon, When she deserts the night, Hid in her vacant interlunar cave. She all in every part, why was the sight By privilege of death and burial, From worst of other evils, pains, and wrongs; But made hereby obnoxious more To all the miseries of life, Life in captivity Among inhuman foes. But who are these? for with joint pace I hear O change beyond report, thought, or belief! With languished head unpropt, As one past hope, abandoned, And by himself given over, In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds Or do my eyes misrepresent? Can this be he, AA HC IV Irresistible Samson? whom, unarmed, No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast, could with stand; Who tore the lion as the lion tears the kid; Ran on embattled armies clad in iron, And, weaponless himself, Made arms ridiculous, useless the forgery Of brazen shield and spear, the hammered cuirass, But safest he who stood aloof, When insupportably his foot advanced, In scorn of their proud arms and warlike tools, Spurned them to death by troops. The bold Ascalonite Fled from his lion ramp; old warriors turned Their plated backs under his heel, Or grovelling soiled their crested helmets in the dust. Then with what trivial weapon came to hand, The jaw of a dead ass, his sword of bone, A thousand foreskins fell, the flower of Palestine, In Ramath-lechi, famous to this day: Then by main force pulled up, and on his shoulders bore, The gates of Azza, post and massy bar, Up to the hill by Hebron, seat of giants old No journey of a sabbath-day, and loaded so Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up Heaven. Thy bondage or lost sight, Prison within prison Inseparably dark? Thou art become (O worst imprisonment!) The dungeon of thyself; thy soul (Which men enjoying sight oft without cause complain) Imprisoned now indeed, In real darkness of the body dwells, Shut up from outward light To incorporate with gloomy night; Puts forth no visual beam. O mirror of our fickle state, |