To what may serve his glory best, and spread his name
Great among the heathen round;

Send thee the angel of thy birth, to stand

Fast by thy side, who from thy father's field
Rode up in flames after his message told

Of thy conception, and be now a shield

Of fire; that Spirit, that first rushed on thee
In the camp of Dan,

Be efficacious in thee now at need!

For never was from Heav'n imparted

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Measure of strength so great to mortal seed,
As in thy wond'rous actions hath been seen.---
But wherefore comes old Manoah in such haste
With youthful steps? much livelier than ere while

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He seems; supposing here to find his son,

Or of him bringing to us some glad news?

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[Enter] MANOAH.

Man. Peace with you, Brethren; my inducement hither

Was not a present here to find my son,

By order of the lords now parted hence

To come and play before them at their feast.
I heard all as I came, the city rings,

And numbers thither flock: I had no will,

Lest I should see him forc'd to things unseemly.
But that which mov'd my coming now, was chiefy
To give ye part with me what hope I have

With gos

d Success to work his liberty,

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Chor. That hope would much rejoice us to partake

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With thee; say, reverend sire, we thirst to hear.
Man. I have attempted one by one the lords
Either at home, or through the high street passing,
With supplication prone and father's tears,
T'accept of ransom for my son their pris'ner.
Some much averse I found and wond'rous harsh,
Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite;
That part most reverenc'd Dagon and his priests:
Others more moderate seeming, but their aim
Private reward, for which both God and state
They easily would set to sale: a third
More generous far and civil, who confess'd

They had enough reveng'd; having reduc'd
Their foe to misery beneath their fears,

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The rest was magnanimity to remit,

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If some convenient ransom were propos'd.--

What noise or shout was that? it tore the sky.

Chor. Doubtless the people shouting to behold

Their once great dread, captive and blind before them,
Or at some proof of strength before them shown.
Man. His ransom, if my whole inheritance

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May compass it, shall willingly be paid

And number'd down: much rather I shall choose

To live the poorest in my tribe, than richest,

And he in that calamitous prison left.

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No, I am fix'd not to part hence without him.

For his redemption all my patrimony,

If need be, I am ready to forego

And quit: not wanting him I shall want nothing.

Chor. Fathers are wont to lay up for their sons,

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Thou for thy son art bet to lay o ti

Sons wont to nurse their parents in old age,

Thou in old age car'st how to nurse thy son,
Made older than thy age through eye-sight lost.
Man. It shall be my delight to tend his eyes,
And view him sitting in the house, ennobled
With all those high exploits by him atchiev'd,
And on his shoulders waving down those locks
That of a nation arm'd the strength contain❜d:
And I persuade me, God had not permitted
His strength again to grow up with his hair,
Garrison'd round about him like a camp
Of faithful soldiery, were not his purpose
To use him further yet in some great service;
Not to sit idle with so great a gift

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Useless, and thence ridiculous about him.

And since his strength with eye-sight was not lost,

God will restore him eye-sight to his strength.

Chor. Thy hopes are not ill founded, nor seem vain

Of his delivery, and thy joy thereon

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Conceiv'd agreeable to a father's love,

In both which we, as next, participate.

Man. I know your friendly minds and---O what noise!--

Mercy of Heav'n, what hideous noise was that!

Horribly loud, unlike the former shout.

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Chor. Noise call you it, or universal groan,

As if the whole inhabitation perish'd!

Blood, death, and deathful deeds are in that noise,

Ruin, destruction at the utmost point.

Man. Of ruin indeed methought I heard the noise: 1515

Oh! it continues, they have slain my son.

Chor. Thy son is rather slaying them; that outcry

From slaughter of one foe could not ascend.

Man. Some dismal accident it needs must be; What shall we do, stay here or run and see?

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Chor. Best keep together here, lest, running thither, We unawares run into danger's mouth.

This evil on the Philistines is fall'n;

From whom could else a general cry be heard?
The sufferers then will scarce molest us here;
From other hands we need not much to fear.
What if, his eye-sight (for to Israel's God
Nothing is hard) by miracle restor❜d,
He now be dealing dole among his foes,

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And over heaps of slaughter'd walk his way?

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Man. That were a joy presumptuous to be thought.
Chor. Yet God hath wrought things as incredible

For his people of old; what hinders now?

Man. He can, I know, but doubt to think he will;
Yet hope would fain subscribe, and tempts belief.
A little stay will bring some notice hither.

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Chor. Of good or bad so great, of bad the sooner;

For evil news rides post, while good news baits.
And to our wish I see one hither speeding,

An Hebrew, as I guess, and of our tribe.

[Enter] MESSENGER.

Mess. O whither shall I run, or which way fly

The sight of this so horrid spectacle,

Which erst my eyes beheld, and yet behold?

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For dire imagination still pursues me.

But providence or instinct of nature seems,

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Or reason though disturb'd, and scarce consulted,

To' have guided me aright, I know not how,
To the first, reverend Manoah, and to these
My countrymen, whom here I knew remaining,

As at some distance from the place of horror,

So in the sad event too much concern'd.

Man. The accident was loud, and here before thee
With rueful cry, yet what it was we hear not;
No preface needs, thou seest we long to know.

Mess. It would burst forth, but I recover breath
And sense distract, to know well what I utter.
Man. Tell us the sum, the circumstance defer.
Mess. Gaza yet stands, but all her sons are fall'n,
All in a moment overwhelm'd and fall'n.

Man. Sad, but thou know'st to Israelites not saddest
The desolation of a hostile city.

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Mess. Feed on that first; there may in grief be surfeit.
Man. Relate by whom.

Mess.

Man.

By Samson.

That still lessens

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The sorrow, and converts it nigh to joy.

Mess. Ah, Manoah, I refrain too suddenly
To utter what will come at last too soon;
Lest evil tidings with too rude irruption

Hitting thy aged ear should pierce too deep.

Man. Suspense in news is torture, speak them ont.
Mess. Take then the worst in brief, Samson is dead. 1570
Man. The worst indeed! O all my hopes defeated

To free him hence! but death, who sets all free,
Hath paid his ransom now and full discharge.
What windy joy this day had I conceiv'd
Hopeful of his delivery, which now proves
Abortive as the first-born bloom of spring
Nipt with the lagging rear of winter's frost ?
Yet ere I give the reins to grief, say first,
How dy'd he; death to life is crown or shame.
All by him fell, thou say'st; by whom fell he?

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