I however Must not omit a Fathers timely care To prosecute the means of thy deliverance By ransom or how else: mean while be calm, And healing words from these thy friends admit.
Sam.

O that torment should not be confin'd To the bodies wounds and sores With maladies innumerable In heart, head, brest, and reins; But must secret passage find 610 To th' 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 lingring disease, But finding no redress, ferment and rage, Nor less then wounds immedicable 620 Ranckle, and fester, and gangrene, To black mortification.
Thoughts my Tormenters arm'd with deadly stings Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts, Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise Dire inflammation which no cooling herb Or medcinal liquor can asswage, Nor breath of Vernal Air from snowy Alp.
Sleep hath forsook and giv'n me o're To deaths benumming Opium as my only cure.

630 Thence faintings, swounings of despair, And sense of Heav'ns desertion.
I was his nursling once and choice delight, His destin'd from the womb, Promisd by Heavenly message twice descending.
Under his special eie Abstemious I grew up and thriv'd amain; He led me on to mightiest deeds Above the nerve of mortal arm Against the uncircumcis'd, our enemies.

640 But now hath cast me off as never known, And to those cruel enemies, Whom I by his appointment had provok't, Left me all helpless with th' irreparable loss Of sight, reserv'd alive to be repeated The subject of thir 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, 650 The close of all my miseries, and the balm.
Chor: Many are the sayings of the wise In antient and in modern books enroll'd; Extolling Patience as the truest fortitude; And to the bearing well of all calamities, All chances incident to mans frail life Consolatories writ With studied argument, and much perswasion sought Lenient of grief and anxious thought, But with th' afflicted in his pangs thir sound 680 Little prevails, or rather seems a tune, Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint, Unless he feel within Some sourse of consolation from above; Secret refreshings, that repair his strength, And fainting spirits uphold.
God of our Fathers, what is man! That thou towards him with hand so various, Or might I say contrarious, Temperst thy providence through his short course, 670 Not evenly, as thou rul'st The Angelic orders and inferiour creatures mute, Irrational and brute.
Nor do I name of men the common rout, That wandring loose about Grow up and perish, as the summer flie, Heads without name no more rememberd, But such as thou hast solemnly elected, With gifts and graces eminently adorn'd To some great work, thy glory, 680 And peoples safety, which in part they effect: Yet toward these thus dignifi'd, thou oft Amidst thir highth of noon, Changest thy countenance, and thy hand with no regard Of highest favours past From thee on them, or them to thee of service.
Nor only dost degrade them, or remit To life obscur'd, which were a fair dismission, But throw'st them lower then thou didst exalt them high, Unseemly falls in human eie, 690 Too grievous for the trespass or omission, Oft leav'st them to the hostile sword Of Heathen and prophane, thir carkasses To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captiv'd: Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times, And condemnation of the ingrateful multitude.
If these they scape, perhaps in poverty With sickness and disease thou bow'st them down, Painful diseases and deform'd, 700 In crude old age; Though not disordinate, yet causless suffring The punishment of dissolute days, in fine, Just or unjust, alike seem miserable, For oft alike, both come to evil end.
So deal not with this once thy glorious Champion, The Image of thy strength, and mighty minister.
What do I beg?
how hast thou dealt already?
Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn His labours, for thou canst, to peaceful end.
But who is this, what thing of Sea or Land?
710 Femal of sex it seems, That so bedeckt, ornate, and gay, Comes this way sailing Like a stately Ship Of Tarsus, bound for th' Isles Of Javan or Gadier With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, Sails fill'd, and streamers waving, Courted by all the winds that hold them play, An Amber sent of odorous perfume 720 Her harbinger, a damsel train behind; Some rich Philistian Matron she may seem, And now at nearer view, no other certain Than Dalila thy wife.
Sam: My Wife, my Traytress, let her not come near me.
Cho: Yet on she moves, now stands & eies thee fixt, About t'have spoke, but now, with head declin'd Like a fair flower surcharg'd with dew, she weeps And words addrest seem into tears dissolv'd, Wetting the borders of her silk'n veil: 730 But now again she makes address to speak.
Dal: With doubtful feet and wavering resolution I came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson, Which to have merited, without excuse, I cannot but acknowledge; yet if tears May expiate (though the fact more evil drew In the perverse event then I foresaw) My penance hath not slack'n'd, though my pardon No way assur'd.

But conjugal affection Prevailing over fear, and timerous doubt 740 Hath led me on desirous to behold Once more thy face, and know of thy estate.
If aught in my ability may serve To light'n what thou suffer'st, and appease Thy mind with what amends is in my power, Though late, yet in some part to recompense My rash but more unfortunate misdeed.
Sam: Out, out Hyaena; these are thy wonted arts, And arts of every woman false like thee, To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray, 750 Then as repentant to submit, beseech, And reconcilement move with feign'd remorse, Confess, and promise wonders in her change, Not truly penitent, but chief to try Her husband, how far urg'd his patience bears, His vertue or weakness which way to assail: Then with more cautious and instructed skill Again transgresses, and again submits; That wisest and best men full oft beguil'd With goodness principl'd not to reject 760 The penitent, but ever to forgive, Are drawn to wear out miserable days, Entangl'd with a poysnous bosom snake, If not by quick destruction soon cut off As I by thee, to Ages an example.
Dal: Yet hear me Samson; not that I endeavour To lessen or extenuate my offence, But that on th' other side if it be weigh'd By it self, with aggravations not surcharg'd, Or else with just allowance counterpois'd 770 I may, if possible, thy pardon find The easier towards me, or thy hatred less.
First granting, as I do, it was a weakness In me, but incident to all our sex, Curiosity, inquisitive, importune Of secrets, then with like infirmity To publish them, both common female faults: Was it not weakness also to make known For importunity, that is for naught, Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety?
780 To what I did thou shewdst me first the way.
But I to enemies reveal'd, and should not.
Nor shouldst thou have trusted that to womans frailty E're I to thee, thou to thy self wast cruel.
Let weakness then with weakness come to parl So near related, or the same of kind, Thine forgive mine; that men may censure thine The gentler, if severely thou exact not More strength from me, then in thy self was found.
And what if Love, which thou interpret'st hate, 790 The jealousie of Love, powerful of sway In human hearts, nor less in mine towards thee, Caus'd what I did?
I saw thee mutable Of fancy, feard lest one day thou wouldst leave me As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore How to endear, and hold thee to me firmest: No better way I saw then by importuning To learn thy secrets, get into my power Thy key of strength and safety: thou wilt say, Why then reveal'd?
I was assur'd by those 800 Who tempted me, that nothing was design'd Against thee but safe custody, and hold: That made for me, I knew that liberty Would draw thee forth to perilous enterprises, While I at home sate full of cares and fears Wailing thy absence in my widow'd bed; Here I should still enjoy thee day and night Mine and Loves prisoner, not the Philistines, Whole to my self, unhazarded abroad, Fearless at home of partners in my love.