"Twixt God and Dagon; Dagon hath presumed,
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 provoked
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 loathsome 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 trouble
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 confined.
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;
Whoever more 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 mayst 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 blazed,
Fearless of danger, like a petty god
I walk'd about, admired 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 flavour, or the smell,
Or taste, that cheers the heart of gods and 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 forbidden, made choice to rear
His mighty champion, strong above compare,
Whose drink was only from the liquid brook.
Sams. But what avail'd this temperance, not complete 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, shamed, dishonour'd, quell'd,
To what can I be useful, wherein serve
My nation, and the work from Heaven imposed,
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.
Man. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with that gift
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 caused a fountain, at thy prayer,
From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst to allay,
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 wonderous 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 humours black,
That mingle with thy fancy. I, however,
Must not omit a father's timely care,
To prosecute thy means of thy deliverance,
By ransom, or how else: meanwhile be calm,
And healing words, from these thy friends, admit.
Sams. O that torment should not be confined 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,
Mangle my apprehensive, tenderest parts;
Thoughts, my tormenters, arm'd with deadly stings
Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise
Dire inflammation, which no cooling herb,
Or medicinal 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,
But now hath cast me off, as never known,
And to those cruel enemies,
Whom I, by his appointment, had provoked,
Left me all helpless, with the irreparable loss
Of sight, reserved alive to be repeated
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,
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
That thou towards him, with hand so various,
That wandering lose about,
Grow up and perish, as the summer-fly;
Heads without name, no more remember'd;
But such as thou hast solemly elected,
With gifts and graces eminently adorn'd,
To some great work, thy glory,
And people's safety, which in part they effect:
Yet towards these, thus dignified, thou oft,
Amidst their highth of noon,
Changest thy countenance, and thy hand, with no regard
From thee on them, or them to thee of service.
Nor only dost degrade them, or remit
To life obscured, 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 leavest them to the hostile sword
Of heathen and profane, their carcasses
To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captived;
Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times,
|