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Went up with armed pow'rs thee only feeking, 1190 To others did no violence nor spoil.

Samf. Among the Daughters of the Philiftins I chose a Wife, which argu'd me no foe; And in your City held my Nuptial Feast: But your ill-meaning Politician Lords, Under pretence of Bridal friends and guests, Appointed to await me thirty Spies,

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Who threataing cruel death constrain'd the Bride To wring from me and tell to them my fecret, That foly'd the riddle which I had propos'd. 1200 When I perceiv'd all fet on enmity, As on my enemies, where ever chanc'd, Ius'd hoftility, and took their spoil To pay my underminers in their coin. My Nation was fubjected to your Lords. It was the force of Conqueft; force with force Is well ejected when the Conquer'd can. But I a private person, whom my Country As a league breaker gave up bound, prefum'd Single Rebellion and did hoftile Acts.

I was no private but a perfon rais'd

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With strength fufficient and command from Heav'n
To free my Country; if their fervile minds
Me their deliverer fent would not receive,
But to their Masters gave me up for naught, 1215
Th'unworthier they; whence to this day they serve,
I was to do my part from Heav'n affign'd,
And had perform'd it if my known offence
Had not disabl'd me, not all your force:

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Thefe fhifts refuted, anfwer thy appellant
Though by his blindness maim'd for high attempts,
Who now defies thee thrice to fingle fight,
As a perty enterprise of small enforce.

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Har. With thee, a man condemn'd, a Slave enrol'd, Due by the Law to capital punishment? To fight with thee no man of arms will deign. Sam. Cam'ft thou for this,vain boafter,to survey me, To defcant on my strength, and give thy verdi&? Come nearer, part not hence fo flight inform'd; But take good heed my hand furvey not thee. 1230 Har. O Baal-zebub! can my ears unus'd Hear thefe difhonours, and not render death?

Samf. No man with-holds thee, nothing from thy Fear I incurable; bring up thy van,

My heels are fetter'd, but my fift is free.

[hand

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Har. This infolence other kind of anfwer fits. Samf. Go baffl'd coward, left I run upon thee, Though in these chains, bulk without spirit vaft, And with one buffet lay thy ftructure low, Or fwing thee in the Air,then dash thee down 1240 To th' hazard of thy brains and shatter'd fides. Har. By Aftaroth ere long thou fhalt lament Thefe braveries in Irons loaden on thee.

Chor. His Giant fhip is gone somewhat crest-fall'n, Stalking with less unconscionable strides,

And lower looks, but in a fultrie chafe.

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

Though fame divulg'd him Father of five sons

All of Gigantick size, Goliah chief,

Chor. He will directly to the Lords, I fear, 1250 And with malitious counsel ftir them up.

Some way or other farther to afflict thee.

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Samf. He muft alledge fome caufe, and offer'd fight Will not dare mention, left a question rife Whether he durft accept the offer or not, And that he durft not plain enough appear'd. Much more affliction than already felt They cannot well impofe, nor I sustain; If they intend advantage of my labours

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The work of many hands, which earns my keeping
With no fmall 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 fo 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.

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Chor. Oh how comely it is and how reviving To the Spirits of just men long oppreft! When God into the hands of their deliverer 1270 Puts invincible might

To quell the mighty of the Earth, th' oppreffor, The brute and boift'rous force of violent men Hardy and industrious to support

Tyrannick power, but raging to pursue

The righteous and all fuch as honour Truth;

He all their Ammunition

And feats of War defeats..

With plain Heroick magnitude of mind

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And celeftial vigour arm'd,

Their Armories and Magazins contemns,
Renders them ufelefs, while

With winged expedition,

Swift as the light'ning glancé, he executes
His errand on the wicked, who furpriz'd
Lose their defence distracted and amaz’d.
But patience is more oft the exercise
Of Saints, the trial of their fortitude,
Making them each his own Deliverer,
And Victor over all

That tyranny or fortune can inflict.
Either of these is in thy lot,

Samfon, with might endu'd

Above the Sons of men; but fight bereav'd
May chance to number thee with thofe

Whom Patience finally maft crown.

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This Idol's day hath been to thee no day of reft,

Labouring thy mind

More than the working day thy hands.

And yet perhaps more trouble is behind,

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For I defcry this way

Some other tending, in his hand
A Scepter or quaint Staff he bears,
Comes on amain, fpeed in his look,
By his habit I difcern him now
A Publick Officer, and now at hand,
His meffage will be short and voluble.

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Off. Hebrews the Pris'ner Samfon here I feek.
Cher. His manacles remark him, there he fits,

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