Which argues over-just, and self displeased
For self-offence, more than for God offended.
Reject not then what offer'd means; who knows
But God has set before us, to return thee
Home to thy country and his sacred house,
Where thou may'st bring thy offerings, to avert
His further ire, with pray’rs and vows renew'd ? 520

SAM. His pardon I implore ; but as for life,
To what end should I seek it? when in hopes
All mortals I excell'd, and great in hopes
With youthful courage and magnanimous thoughts
Of birth from Heav'n foretold and high exploits,
Full of divine instinct, after some proof
Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond
The sons of Anak, famous now and blaz’d,
Fearless of danger, like a petty god
I walk'd about admir'd of all, and dreaded 530
On hostile ground, none daring my affront.
Then swoll'n with pride into the snare I fell
Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains,
Soften'd with pleasure and voluptuous life ;
At length to lay my head and hallow'd pledge
Of all my strength in the lascivious lap
Of a deceitful concubine, who shore me
Like a tame wether, all my precious flcece,
Then turn'd me out ridiculous, despoild,
Shav'n and disarm'd among mine enemies. 540

Cho, Desire of wine and all delicious drinks, Which many a famous warrior overturns, Thou could'st repress, nor did the dancing ruby

Sparkling, out-pour'd, the flavor, or the smell,
Or taste that cheers the heart of gods and men,
Allure thee from the cool crystallin stream.

Sam. Wherever fountain or fresh current flow'd
Against the eastern ray, translucent pure
With touch ethereal of Heav'n's fiery rod
I drank, from the clear milky juice allaying 550
Thirst, and refresh'd ; nor envy'd them the grape
Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes.

Chor.O madness to think use of strongest wines And strongest drinks our chief support of health, When God with these forbidden made choice to rear His mighty champion, strong above compare, Whose drink was only from the liquid brook.'

Sam. But what avail'd this temp'ranee, not comAgainst another object more enticing ? [plete What boots it at one gate to make defence, 560 And at another to let in the foe, Effeminately vanquish'd ? by which means, Now blind, dishearten'd, sham'd, dishonor'd, To what can I be useful, wherein serve (quell'd, My nation, and the work from Heav'n impos'd, But to sit idle on the household hearth, A burd'nous drone ; to visitants a gaze, Or pity'd object, these redundant locks Robustious to no purpose clust'ring down, Vain monument of strength ; till length of years 570 And sedentary numness craze my limbs 2 a; contopptible old age obscure ? Here rather let me drudge and earn my bread,

Till vermin, or the draff of servile food
Consume me, and oft-invok'd death
Hasten the welcome end of all my pains.
Man. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with

that gift
Which was expressly giv'n thee to annoy them ?
Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle,
Inglorious, unemploy'd, with age outworn. 580
But God who caus'd a fountain at thy prayer
From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst to allay
After the brunt of battle, can as easy
Cause light again within thy eyes to spring,
Werewith to serve him better than thou hast;
And I persuade me so; why else this strength
Miraculous yet remaining in those locks ?
His might continues in thee not for nought.
Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus. 589

Sam. All otherwise to me my thoughts portend, That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light, Nor th' other light of life continue long, But yield to double darkness nigh at hand : So much I feel my genial spirits droop, My hopes all flat, Nature within me seems In all her functions weary of herself, My race of glory run, and race of shame, And I shall shortly be with them that rest. Man.Believe not these suggestions which proceed From anguish of the mind and humours black 600 That mingle with thy fancy. I however, Must not omit a'father's timely care

To prosecute the means of thy deliverance
By ransome, 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 body's wounds and sores,
With maladies innumerable
In heart, head, breast 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 ling'ring disease, But finding no redress, ferment and rage, Nor less than wounds immedicable

620 Rankle, and fester, and grangrene, To black mortification. Thoughts my tormentors arm'd with deadly stings Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts, Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise Dire inflammation, which no cooling herb Or medicinal liquor can asswage, Nor breath of vernal air from snowy Alp. Sleep hath forsook and giv'n me o'er To death benumming opium as my only cure : 630 Thence faintings, swoonings of despair, And sense of Heav'n's desertion.

I was his nursling once and choice delight, His distin'd from the womb, Promis'd by heav'nly message twice descending. Under his special eye Abstemious I grew up and thriv'd amain ; He led me on to mightiest deeds Above the nerve of mortal arm Against th’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'd, Left me all helpless with th' irreparable loss Of sight, reserv'd alive to be repeated The subject of their cruelty and scorn. Nor am I in the list of them that hope ; Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless; This one pray'r 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 ancient and in modern books inroll'd, Extolling patience as the truest fortitude : And to the bearing well of all calamities, All chances incident to man's frail life, Consolitaries writ With study'dargument, and much persuasion sought Lenient of grief and anxious thought : But with th' afflicted in his pangs their sound 660 Little prevails, or rather seems a tune Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint