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Samson Agonistes, A Dramatic Poem
by
Sam: Appoint not heavenly disposition, Father,
Nothing of all these evils hath befall’n me
But justly; I my self have brought them on,
Sole Author I, sole cause: if aught seem vile,
As vile hath been my folly, who have profan’d
The mystery of God giv’n me under pledge
Of vow, and have betray’d it to a woman,
A Canaanite, my faithless enemy. 380
This well I knew, nor was at all surpris’d,
But warn’d by oft experience: did not she
Of Timna first betray me, and reveal
The secret wrested from me in her highth
Of Nuptial Love profest, carrying it strait
To them who had corrupted her, my Spies,
And Rivals? In this other was there found
More Faith? who also in her prime of love,
Spousal embraces, vitiated with Gold,
Though offer’d only, by the sent conceiv’d 390
Her spurious first-born; Treason against me?
Thrice she assay’d with flattering prayers and sighs,
And amorous reproaches to win from me
My capital secret, in what part my strength
Lay stor’d in what part summ’d, that she might know:
Thrice I deluded her, and turn’d to sport
Her importunity, each time perceiving
How openly, and with what impudence
She purpos’d to betray me, and (which was worse
Then undissembl’d hate) with what contempt 400
She sought to make me Traytor to my self;
Yet the fourth time, when mustring all her wiles,
With blandisht parlies, feminine assaults,
Tongue-batteries, she surceas’d not day nor night
To storm me over-watch’t, and wearied out.
At times when men seek most repose and rest,
I yielded, and unlock’d her all my heart,
Who with a grain of manhood well resolv’d
Might easily have shook off all her snares :
But foul effeminacy held me yok’t 410
Her Bond-slave; O indignity, O blot
To Honour and Religion! servil mind
Rewarded well with servil punishment!
The base degree to which I now am fall’n,
These rags, this grinding, is not yet so base
As was my former servitude, ignoble,
Unmanly, ignominious, infamous,
True slavery, and that blindness worse then this,
That saw not how degeneratly I serv’d.
Man: I cannot praise thy Marriage choises, Son, 420
Rather approv’d them not; but thou didst plead
Divine impulsion prompting how thou might’st
Find some occasion to infest our Foes.
I state not that; this I am sure; our Foes
Found soon occasion thereby to make thee
Thir Captive, and thir triumph; thou the sooner
Temptation found’st, or over-potent charms
To violate the sacred trust of silence
Deposited within thee; which to have kept
Tacit, was in thy power; true; and thou hear’st 430
Enough, and more the burden of that fault;
Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying
That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains,
This day the Philistines a popular Feast
Here celebrate in Gaza, and proclaim
Great Pomp, and Sacrifice, and Praises loud
To Dagon, as their God who hath deliver’d
Thee Samson bound and blind into thir hands,
Them out of thine, who slew’st them many a slain.
So Dagon shall be magnifi’d, and God, 440
Besides whom is no God, compar’d with Idols,
Disglorifi’d, blasphem’d, and had in scorn
By th’ Idolatrous rout amidst thir wine;
Which to have come to pass by means of thee,
Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest,
Of all reproach the most with shame that ever
Could have befall’n thee and thy Fathers house.