More than enough we know; but while things yet Are in confusion, give us, if thou canst, Eye-witness of what first or last was done, Relation more particular and distinct.
Messenger. Occasions drew me early to this city, And, as the gates I enter'd with sun-rișe, The morning trumpets festival proclaim'd Through each high street: little I had despatch'd When all abroad was rumour'd that this day Samson should be brought forth, to show the people Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games; I sorrow'd at his captive state, but minded Not to be absent at that spectacle.
The building was a spacious theatre
Half-round, on two main pillars vaulted high, With seats where all the lords, and each degree Of sort, might sit in order to behold;
The other side was open, where the throng
On banks and scaffolds under sky might stand;
among these aloof obscurely stood.
The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice
Had fill'd their hearts with mirth, high cheer, and
When to their sports they turn'd. Immediately
Was Samson as a publick servant brought, In their state livery clad; before him pipes And timbrels, on each side went armed guards, Both horse and foot, before him and behind
Archers, and slingers, cataphracts and spears." At sight of him the people with a shout Rifted the air, clamouring their God with praise, Who had made their dreadful enemy their thrall. He patient, but undaunted, where they led him, Came to the place; and what was set before him, Which without help of eye might be assay'd, To heave, pull, draw, or break, he still perform'd All with incredible, stupendous force; None daring to appear antagonist.
At length for intermission sake they led him Between the pillars; he his guide requested (For so from such as nearer stood we heard) As over-tir'd to let him lean a while With both his arms on those two massy pillars, That to the arched roof gave main support. He, unsuspicious, led him; which when Samson Felt in his arms, with head a while inclin❜d, And eyes fast fix'd he stood, as one who pray'd, Or some great matter in his mind revolv'd: At last with head erect thus cried aloud; "Hitherto, Lords, what your commands impos'd I have perform'd, as reason was, obeying, Not without wonder or delight beheld : Now of my own accord such other trial I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater, As with amaze shall strike all who behold." This utter'd, straining all his nerves be bow'd,
As with the force of winds and waters pent, When mountains tremble, those two massy pillars With horrible convulsion to and fro
He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder Upon the heads of all who sat beneath,
Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests, Their choice nobility and flower, not only Of this but each Philistian city round, Met from all parts to solemnize this feast. Samson, with these immix'd, inevitably Pull'd down the same destruction on himself; The vulgar only 'scap'd who stood without. Chorus. O dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious! Living or dying thou hast fulfill'd
The work for which thou wast foretold
To Israel, and now ly'st victorious
Among thy slain self-kill'd,
Not willingly, but tangled in the fold
Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd Thee with thy slaughter'd foes, in number more Than all thy life hath slain before.
1 Semichor. While their hearts were jocund and sublime,
Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine, And fat regorg'd of bulls and goats, Chaunting their idol, and preferring Before our living Dread who dwells
In Silo, his bright sanctuary:
Among them he a Spirit of phrenzy sent, Who hurt their minds,
And urg'd them on with mad desire To call in haste for their destroyer;
They, only set on sport and play, Unweetingly impórtun'd
Their own destruction to come speedy upon them.
So fond are mortal men,
Fall'n into wrath divine,
As their own ruin on themselves to invite, Insensate left, or to sense reprobate,
And with blindness internal struck.
2 Semichor. But he, though blind of sight, Despis'd and thought extinguish'd quite, With inward eyes illuminated,
His fiery virtue rous'd
From under ashes into sudden flame.
And as an evening dragon came,
Assailant on the perched roosts
And nests in order rang'd
Of tame villatick fowl; but as an eagle
His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads.
So Virtue, given for lost,
Depress'd, and overthrown, as seem'd,
Like that self-begotten bird
In the Arabian woods embost,
That no second knows nor third,
And lay ere while a holocaust,
From out her ashy womb now teem'd,
Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most When most unactive deem'd;
And, though her body die, her fame survives. A sécular bird ages of lives.
Manoak. Come, come; no time for lamentation now,
Nor much more cause; Samson hath quit himself Like Samson, and heroickly hath finish'd
A life heriock, on his enemies
Fully reveng'd, and left them years of mourning, And lamentation to the sons of Caphtor Through all Philistian bounds; to Israel
Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them Find courage to lay hold on this occasion ; To himself and father's house eternal fame; And which is best and happiest yet, all this With God not parted from him, as was fear'd, But favouring and assisting to the end, Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail
Or knock the breast; no weakness, no contempt, Dispraise, or blame; nothing but well and fair, And what may quiet us in a death so noble. Let us go find the body where it lies
Soak'd in his enemies blood; and from the stream With lavers pure, and cleansing herbs, wash off
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