To dread the Son of God: he, all unarm'd, Thus they the Son of God, our Saviour meek, Sung victor, and, from heavenly feast refresh'd, Brought on his way with joy; he, unobserved, Home to his mother's house private return'd. 21 SAMSON AGONISTES: A DRAMATIC POEM. 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 a 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 Manoah, 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. Manoah then departs to prosecute his endeavour with the Philistine lords for Samson's re'demption; 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, Manoah returns full of joyful hope, to procure ere long his son's deliverance: in the midst of which discourse an Hebrew comes in haste, confusedly at first, and afterward more distinctly, relating the catastrophe, what Samson had done to the Philistines, and by accident to himself; wherewith the tragedy ends. Samson. THE PERSONS. Manoah, the father of Dalila, his wife. Harapha, of Gath. Messenger. Chorus of Danites. The scene, before the Prison in Gaza. Samson. Attendant leading him. A LITTLE onward lend thy guiding hand Unwholesome draught: but here I feel amends, Times past, what once I was, and what am now. His godlike presence, and from some great act Design'd for great exploits; if I must die Betray'd, 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, Lower than bond-slave! Promise was, that I Had been fulfill'd, but through mine own default? O'ercome with importunity and tears. By weakest subtilties; not made to rule, Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eased, Of man or worm; the vilest here excel me: In power of others, never in my own; Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day! O first-created beam, and thou great Word, And silent as the moon, When she deserts the night, Hid in her vacant interlunar cave. She all in every part; why was this sight By privilege of death and burial, From worst of other evils, pains, and wrongs: To all the miseries of life, Life in captivity Among inhuman foes. But who are these? for with joint pace I hear Enter Chorus. Chor. This, this is he; softly awhile, O change beyond report, thought, or belief! As one past hope abandon'd, And by himself given over; In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds O'er-worn and soil'd; Or do my eyes misrepresent? Can this be he, That heroic, that renown'd, Irresistible Samson? whom unarm'd No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast, could withstand; 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 |