Page:The Complete Poetical Works of John Milton.djvu/352

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��SAMSON AGONISTES

��Though fame divulge him father of five

sons, All of gigantic size, Goliah chief.

Chor. He will directly to the lords, I fear, 1250

And with malicious counsel stir them up Some way or other yet further to afflict

thee. Sams. He must allege some cause, and

offered fight

Will not dare mention, lest a question rise Whether he durst accept the offer or not; And that he durst not plain enough ap- peared.

Much more affliction than already felt They cannot well impose, nor I sustain, If they intend advantage of my labours, The work of many hands, which earns my keeping, 1260

With no small profit daily to my owners. But come what will ; my deadliest foe will

prove My speediest friend, by death to rid me

hence;

The worst that he can give to me the best. Yet so it may fall out, because their end Is hate, not help to me, it may with mine Draw their own ruin who attempt the deed. Chor. O, how comely it is, and how re- viving

To the spirits of just men long oppressed, When God into the hands of their de- liverer

Puts invincible might, To quell the mighty of the earth, the op- pressor, The brute and boisterous force of violent

men,

Hardy and industrious to support Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue The righteous, and all such as honour

truth !

He all their ammunition And feats of war defeats, With plain heroic magnitude of mind And celestial vigour armed; 1280

Their armouries and magazins contemns, Renders them useless, while With winged expedition Swift as the lightning glance he executes His errand on the wicked, who, surprised, Lose their defence, distracted and amazed.

But patience is more oft the exercise Of saints, the trial of their fortitude, Making them each his own deliverer,

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��1290

��And victor over all

That tyranny or fortune can inflict.

Either of these is in thy lot,

Samson, with might endued

Above the sons of men; but sight bereaved

May chance to number thee with those

Whom Patience finally must crown.

This Idol's day hath been to thee no day

of rest,

Labouring thy mind More than the working day thy hands. And yet, perhaps, more trouble is* behind ; For I descry this way 1301

Some other tending; in his hand A sceptre or quaint staff he bears, Comes on amain, speed in his look. By his habit I discern him now A public officer, and now at hand. His message will be short and voluble. Off". Ebrews, the prisoner Samson here I

seek. Chor. His manacles remark him; there

he sits. Off. Samson, to thee our Lords thus bid

me say: 131

This day to Dagon is a solemn feast, With sacrifices, triumph, pomp and games; Thy strength they know surpassing human

rate,

And now some public proof thereof require To honour this great feast, and great as- sembly. Rise, therefore, with all speed, and come

along, Where I will see thee heartened and fresh

clad, To appear as fits before the illustrious

Lords. Sams. Thou know'st I am an Ebrew;

therefore tell them

Our law forbids at their religious rites 1320

My presence; for that cause I cannot come.

Off. This answer, be assured, will not

content them. Sams. Have they not sword-players, and

every sort

Of gymnic artists, wrestlers, riders, runners. Jugglers and dancers, antics, mummers,

mimics, But they must pick me out, with shackles

tired,

And over-laboured at their public mill, To make them sport with blind activity ? Do they not seek occasion of new quarrels, On my refusal, to distress me more, 1330

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