The Complete Poetry of John Milton (153 page)

   1170   
Acknowledge them from God inflicted on me

               
Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon

               
Whose ear is ever open; and his eye

               
Gracious to re-admit the suppliant;

               
In confidence whereof I once again

   1175   
Defie thee to the trial of mortal fight,

               
By combat to decide whose god is God,

               
Thine or whom I with
Israel
’s Sons adore.

            
      
       
Harapha.
Fair honour that thou dost thy God, in trusting

               
He will accept thee to defend his cause,

   1180   
A Murtherer, a Revolter, and a Robber.

            
      
       
Samson.
Tongue-doughtie Giant, how dost thou prove me these?

            
      
       
Harapha.
Is not thy Nation subject to our Lords?

               
Thir Magistrates confest it, when they took thee

               
As a League-breaker and deliver’d bound

   1185   
Into our hands:
²
for hadst thou not committed

               
Notorious murder on those thirty men

               
At
Askalon
, who never did thee harm,

               
Then like a Robber strip’dst them of thir robes?
³

               
The
Philistines
, when thou hadst broke the league,

   1190   
Went up with armed powers thee only seeking,

               
To others did no violence nor spoil.

            
      
       
Samson.
Among the Daughters of the
Philistines

               
I chose a Wife, which argu’d me no foe;

               
And in your City held my Nuptial Feast:

   1195   
But your ill-meaning Politician Lords,

               
Under pretence of Bridal friends and guests,

               
Appointed to await me thirty spies,

               
Who threatning cruel death constrain’d the bride

               
To wring from me and tell to them my secret,

   1200   
That solv’d the riddle which I had propos’d.

               
When I perceiv’d all set on enmity,

               
As on my enemies, where ever chanc’d,

               
I us’d hostility, and took thir spoil

               
To pay my underminers in thir coin.

   1205   
My Nation was subjected to your Lords.

               
It was the force of Conquest; force with force

               
Is well ejected when the Conquer’d can.

               
But I a private person, whom my Countrey

               
As a league-breaker gave up bound, presum’d

   1210   
Single Rebellion and did Hostile Acts.

               
I was no private but a person rais’d

               
With strength sufficient and command from Heav’n

               
To free my Countrey; if their servile minds

               
Me their Deliverer sent would not receive,

   1215   
But to thir Masters gave me up for nought,

               
Th’ unworthier they; whence to this day they serve.

               
I was to do my part from Heav’n assign’d,

               
And had perform’d it if my known offence

               
Had not disabl’d me, not all your force:

   1220   
These shifts refuted, answer thy appellant

               
Though by his blindness maim’d for high attempts,

               
Who now defies thee thrice to single fight,

               
As a petty enterprise of small enforce.

            
      
       
Harapha.
With thee a Man condemn’d, a Slave enrol’d,

   1225   
Due by the Law to capital punishment?

               
To fight with thee no man of arms will deign.

            
      
       
Samson.
Cam’st thou for this, vain boaster, to survey me,

               
To descant on my strength, and give thy verdit?

               
Come nearer, part not hence so slight inform’d;

   1230   
But take good heed my hand survey not thee.

            
      
       
Harapha. O Baal-zebub!
⁴
can my ears unus’d

               
Hear these dishonours, and not render death?

            
      
       
Samson.
No man with-holds thee, nothing from thy hand

               
Fear I incurable; bring up thy van,
⁵

   1235   
My heels are fetter’d, but my fist is free.

            
      
       
Harapha.
This insolence other kind of answer fits.

            
      
       
Samson.
Go baffl’d
⁶
coward, lest I run upon thee,

               
Though in these chains, bulk without spirit vast,

               
And with one buffet lay thy structure low,

   1240   
Or swing thee in the Air, then dash thee down

               
To th’ hazard of thy brains and shatter’d sides.

            
      
       
Harapha.
By
Astaroth
⁷
e’re long thou shalt lament

               
These braveries in Irons loaden on thee.

            
      
       
Chorus.
His Giantship is gone somewhat crest-fall’n,

   1245   
Stalking with less unconsci’nable strides,

               
And lower looks, but in a sultrie chafe.

            
      
       
Samson.
I dread him not, nor all his Giant-brood,

               
Though Fame divulge him Father of five Sons

               
All of Gigantic size,
Goliah
chief.
⁸

   1250
      
       
Chorus.
He will directly to the Lords, I fear,

               
And with malitious counsel stir them up

               
Some way or other yet further to afflict thee.

            
      
       
Samson.
He must allege some cause, and offer’d fight

               
Will not dare mention, lest a question rise

   1255   
Whether he durst accept the offer or not,

               
And that he durst not plain enough appear’d.

               
Much more affliction then already felt

               
They cannot well impose, nor I sustain;

               
If they intend advantage of my labours

   1260   
The work of many hands, which earns my keeping

               
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.

   1265   
Yet so it may fall out, because thir end

               
Is hate, not help to me, it may with mine

               
Draw thir own ruin who attempt the deed.

            
      
       
Chorus.
Oh how comely it is and how reviving

               
To the Spirits of just men long opprest!

   1270   
When God into the hands of thir deliverer

               
Puts invincible might

               
To quell the mighty of the Earth, th’ oppressour,

               
The brute and boist’rous force of violent men

               
Hardy and industrious to support

   1275   
Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue

               
The righteous and all such as honour Truth;

               
He all thir Ammunition

               
And feats of War defeats

               
With plain Heroic magnitude of mind

   1280   
And celestial vigour arm’d,

               
Thir Armories and Magazins contemns,

               
Renders them useless, while

               
With winged expedition

               
Swift as the lightning glance he executes

   1285   
His errand on the wicked, who surpris’d

               
Lose thir defence, distracted and amaz’d.

            
      
       But patience is more oft the exercise

               
Of Saints, the trial of thir fortitude,

               
Making them each his own Deliverer,

   1290   
And Victor over all

               
That tyrannie or fortune can inflict;

               
Either of these is in thy lot,

               
Samson
, with might endu’d

               
Above the Sons of men; but sight bereav’d

   1295   
May chance to number thee with those

               
Whom Patience finally must crown.

               
This Idols day hath bin to thee no day of rest,

            
      
       Labouring thy mind

               
More then the working day thy hands,

   1300   
And yet perhaps more trouble is behind.

               
For I descry this way

               
Some other tending, in his hand

               
A Scepter or quaint
⁹
staff he bears,

               
Comes on amain, speed in his look.

   1305   
By his habit I discern him now

               
A Public Officer, and now at hand.

               
His message will be short and voluble.

            
      
       
Officer. Ebrews
, the Pris’ner
Samson
here I seek.

            
      
       
Chorus.
His manacles remark
¹⁰
him, there he sits.

   1310
      
       
Officer. Samson
, to thee our Lords thus bid me say;

               
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

   1315   
To honour this great Feast, and great Assembly;

               
Rise therefore with all speed and come along,

               
Where I will see thee heart’n’d and fresh clad

               
T’ appear as fits before th’ illustrious Lords.

            
      
       
Samson.
Thou knowst I am an
Ebrew
, therefore tell them,