By order of the lords new 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 forced to things unseemly.
But that which moved my coming now was chiefly
To give ye part with me what hope I have
With good success to work his liberty.

Chor. That hope would much rejoice us to partake
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,
To accept of ransom for my son, their prisoner.
Some much averse I found, and wondrous harsh,
Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite;
That part most reverenced 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 confessed
They had enough revenged, having reduced
Their foe to misery beneath their fears;
The rest was magnanimity to remit,

If some convenient ransom were proposed.

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

May compass it, shall willingly be paid

And numbered 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 fixed not to part hence without him.
For his redemption all my patrimony,

If need be, I am ready to forgo

And quit. Not wanting him, I shall want nothing.

Chor. Fathers are wont to lay up for their sons;
Thou for thy son art bent to lay out all:
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 his house, ennobled
With all those high exploits by him achieved,
And on his shoulders waving down those locks
That of a nation armed the strength contained.
And I persuade me God hath not permitted
His strength again to grow up with his hair
Garrisoned 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

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

Conceived, 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 Heaven! what hideous noise was that? Horribly loud, unlike the former shout.

Chor. Noise call you it, or universal groan,

As if the whole inhabitation perished?

Blood, death, and deathful deeds, are in that noise,
Ruin, destruction at the utmost point.

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Man. Of ruin indeed methought I heard the noise. 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?

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

This evil on the Philistines is fallen:

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 restored,
He now be dealing dole among his foes,
And over heaps of slaughtered walk his way?

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.

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 Ebrew, as I guess, and of our tribe.

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

The sight of this so horrid spectacle,

Which erst my eyes beheld, and yet behold?
For dire imagination still pursues me.

But providence or instinct of nature seems,
Or reason, though disturbed and scarce consulted,
To have guided me aright, I know not how,
To thee first, reverend Manoa, and to these

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My countrymen, whom here I knew remaining,
As at some distance from the place of horror,
So in the sad event too much concerned.

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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 fallen,
All in a moment overwhelmed and fallen.

Man. Sad! but thou know'st to Israelites not saddest 1560 The desolation of a hostile city.

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

Mess.

By Samson.

Man.

That still lessens

The sorrow, and converts it nigh to joy.
Mess. Ah! Manoa, 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 out.
Mess. Then take the worst in brief: Samson is

dead.

Man. The worst indeed! O, all my hope's 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 conceived,
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 died he; death to life is crown or shame.

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All by him fell, thou say'st; by whom fell he?
What glorious hand gave Samson his death's wound?
Mess. Unwounded of his enemies he fell.
Man. Wearied with slaughter, then, or how? explain.
Mess. By his own hands.

Man.

Self-violence! What cause

Brought him so soon at variance with himself
Among his foes?

At once both to destroy and be destroyed.
The edifice, where all were met to see him,
Upon their heads and on his own he pulled.

Man. O lastly over-strong against thyself!
A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenge.
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.

Mess. Occasions drew me early to this city;
And, as the gates I entered with sun-rise,
The morning trumpets festival proclaimed
Through each high street. Little I had dispatched,
When all abroad was rumoured that this day
Samson should be brought forth, to show the people
Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games.
I sorrowed 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;

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The other side was open, where the throng

On banks and scaffolds under sky might stand:
I among these aloof obscurely stood.

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