Samson Agonistes

Milton, John

Samson Agonistes

 

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John Milton

Samson Agonistes

A Dramatic Poem

 

Aristot. Poet. Cap. 6.

 

Toagadiamimhsis praxeas spydaias, etc.

Tragœdia est imitatio actionis seriæ, etc. Per misericordiam & metum perficiens talium affectuum lustrationem.

 

 

Of That Sort of Dramatic Poem

Which Is Call'd Tragedy.

Tragedy, as it was antiently compos'd, hath been ever held the gravest, moralest, and most profitable of all other Poems: therefore said by Aristotle to be of power by raising pity and fear, or terror, to purge the mind of those and such like passions, that is to temper and reduce them to just measure with a kind of delight, stirr'd up by reading or seeing those passions well imitated. Nor is Nature wanting in her own effects to make good his assertion: for so in Physic things of melancholic hue and quality are us'd against melancholy, sowr against sowr, salt to remove salt humours. Hence Philosophers and other gravest Writers, as Cicero, Plutarch and others, frequently cite out of Tragic Poets, both to adorn and illustrate thir discourse. The Apostle Paul himself thought it not unworthy to insert a verse of Euripides into the Text of Holy Scripture, I Cor. 15. 33 and Paræus commenting on the Revelation, divides the whole Book as a Tragedy, into Acts distinguisht each by a Chorus of Heavenly Harpings and Song between. Heretofore Men in highest dignity have labour'd not a little to be thought able to compose a Tragedy. Of that honour Dionysius the elder was no less ambitious, then before of his attaining to the Tyranny. Augustus Cæsar also had begun his Ajax, but unable to please his own judgment with what he had begun, left it unfinisht. Seneca the Philosopher is by some thought the Author of those Tragedies (at lest the best of them) that go under that name. Gregory Nazianzen a Father of the Church, thought it not unbeseeming the sanctity of his person to write a Tragedy, which he entitl'd, Christ suffering. This is mention'd to vindicate Tragedy from the small esteem, or rather infamy, which in the account of many it undergoes at this day with other common Interludes; hap'ning through the Poets error of intermixing Comic stuff with Tragic sadness and gravity; or introducing trivial and vulgar persons, which by all judicious hath bin counted absurd; and brought in without discretion, corruptly to gratifie the people. And though antient Tragedy use no Prologue, yet using sometimes, in case of self defence, or explanation, that which Martial calls an Epistle; in behalf of this Tragedy coming forth after the antient manner, much different from what among us passes for best, thus much before-hand may be Epistl'd; that Chorus is here introduc'd after the Greek manner, not antient only but modern, and still in use among the Italians. In the modelling therefore of this Poem, with good reason, the Antients and Italians are rather follow'd, as of much more authority and fame. The measure of Verse us'd in the Chorus is of all sorts, call'd by the Greeks Monostrophic, or rather Apolelymenon, without regard had to Strophe, Antistrophe or Epod, which were a kind of Stanza's fram'd only for the Music, then us'd with the Chorus that sung; not essential to the Poem, and therefore not material; or being divided into Stanza's or Pauses, they may be call'd Allæostropha. Division into Act and Scene referring chiefly to the Stage (to which this work never was intended) is here omitted.

It suffices if the whole Drama be found not produc't beyond the fift Act, of the style and uniformitie, and that commonly call'd the Plot, whether intricate or explicit, which is nothing indeed but such œconomy, or disposition of the fable as may stand best with verisimilitude and decorum; they only will best judge who are not unacquainted with Æschulus, Sophocles, and Euripides, the three Tragic Poets unequall'd yet by any, and the best rule to all who endeavour to write Tragedy. The circumscription of time wherein the whole Drama begins and ends, is according to antient rule, and best example, within the space of 24 hours.

 

 

The Argument.

Samson made Captive, Blind, and now in the Prison at Gaza, there to labour as in a common workhouse, on a Festival day, in the general cessation from labour, comes forth into the open Air, to a place nigh, somewhat retir'd there to sit a while and bemoan his condition. Where he happens at length to be visited by certain friends and equals of his tribe, which make the Chorus, who seek to comfort him what they can; then by his old Father Manoa, who endeavours the like, and withal tells him his purpose to procure his liberty by ransom; lastly, that this Feast was proclaim'd by the Philistins as a day of Thanksgiving for thir deliverance from the hands of Samson, which yet more troubles him. Manoa then departs to prosecute his endeavour with the Philistian Lords for Samson's redemption; who in the mean while is visited by other persons; and lastly by a publick Officer to require his coming to the Feast before the Lords and People, to play or shew his strength in thir presence; he at first refuses, dismissing the publick Officer with absolute denyal to come; at length perswaded inwardly that this was from God, he yields to go along with him, who came now the second time with great threatnings to fetch him; the Chorus yet remaining on the place, Manoa returns full of joyful hope, to procure e're long his Sons deliverance: in the midst of which discourse an Ebrew comes in haste confusedly at first; and of afterward more distinctly relating the Catastrophe, what Samson had done to the Philistins, and by accident to himself; wherewith the Tragedy ends.

 

 

The Persons.

Samson.

Manoa the Father of Samson.

Dalila his Wife.

Harapha of Gath.

Publick Officer.

Messenger.

Chorus of Danites.

 

The Scene before the Prison in GAZA.

 

 

Samson Agonistes.

SAMS.

A Little onward lend thy guiding hand

To these dark steps, a little further on;

For yonder bank hath choice of Sun or shade,

There I am wont to sit, when any chance

Relieves me from my task of servile toyl,

Daily in the common Prison else enjoyn'd me,

Where I a Prisoner chain'd, scarce freely draw

The air imprison'd also, close and damp,

Unwholsom draught: but here I feel amends,

The breath of Heav'n fresh-blowing, pure and sweet,

With day-spring born; here leave me to respire.

This day a solemn Feast the people hold

To Dagon thir Sea-Idol, and forbid

Laborious works, unwillingly this rest

Thir Superstition yields me; hence with leave

Retiring from the popular noise, I seek

This unfrequented place to find some ease,

Ease to the body some, none to the mind

From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm

Of Hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone,

But rush upon me thronging, and present

Times past, what once I was, and what am now.

O wherefore was my birth from Heaven foretold

Twice by an Angel, who at last in sight

Of both my Parents all in flames ascended

From off the Altar, where an Off'ring burn'd,

As in a fiery column charioting

His Godlike presence, and from some great act

Or benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race?

Why was my breeding order'd and prescrib'd

As of a person separate to God,

Design'd for great exploits; if I must dye

Betray'd, Captiv'd, and both my Eyes put out,

Made of my Enemies the scorn and gaze;

To grind in Brazen Fetters under task

With this Heav'n-gifted strength? O glorious strength

Put to the labour of a Beast, debas't

Lower then bondslave! Promise was that I

Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver;

Ask for this great Deliverer now, and find him

Eyeless in Gaza at the Mill with slaves,

Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke;

Yet stay, let me not rashly call in doubt

Divine Prediction; what if all foretold

Had been fulfilld but through mine own default,

Whom have I to complain of but my self?

Who this high gift of strength committed to me,

In what part lodg'd, how easily bereft me,

Under the Seal of silence could not keep,

But weakly to a woman must reveal it,

O'recome with importunity and tears.

O impotence of mind, in body strong!

But what is strength without a double share

Of wisdom, vast, unwieldy, burdensom,

Proudly secure, yet liable to fall

By weakest suttleties, not made to rule,

But to subserve where wisdom bears command.

God, when he gave me strength, to shew withal

How slight the gift was, hung it in my Hair.

But peace, I must not quarrel with the will

Of highest dispensation, which herein

Happ'ly had ends above my reach to know:

Suffices that to me strength is my bane,

And proves the sourse of all my miseries;

So many, and so huge, that each apart

Would ask a life to wail, but chief of all,

O loss of sight, of thee I most complain!

Blind among enemies, O worse then chains,

Dungeon, or beggery, or decrepit age!

Light the prime work of God to me is extinct,

And all her various objects of delight

Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eas'd,

Inferiour to the vilest now become

Of man or worm; the vilest here excel me,

They creep, yet see, I dark in light expos'd

To daily fraud, contempt, abuse and wrong,

Within doors, or without, still as a fool,

In power of others, never in my own;

Scarce half I seem to live, dead more then half.

O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,

Irrecoverably dark, total Eclipse

Without all hope of day!

O first created Beam, and thou great Word,

Let there be light, and light was over all;

Why am I thus bereav'd thy prime decree?

The Sun to me is dark

And silent as the Moon,

When she deserts the night

Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.

Since light so necessary is to life,

And almost life it self, if it be true

That light is in the Soul,

She all in every part; why was the sight

To such a tender ball as th' eye confin'd?

So obvious and so easie to be quench't,

And not as feeling through all parts diffus'd,

That she might look at will through every pore?

Then had I not been thus exil'd from light;

As in the land of darkness yet in light,

To live a life half dead, a living death,

And buried; but O yet more miserable!

My self, my Sepulcher, a moving Grave,

Buried, yet not exempt

By priviledge of death and burial

From worst of other evils, pains and wrongs,

But made hereby obnoxious more

To all the miseries of life,

Life in captivity

Among inhuman foes.

But who are these? for with joint pace I hear

The tread of many feet stearing this way;

Perhaps my enemies who come to stare

At my affliction, and perhaps to insult,

Thir daily practice to afflict me more.

CHOR.

This, this is he; softly a while,

Let us not break in upon him;

O change beyond report, thought, or belief!

See how he lies at random, carelessly diffus'd,

With languish't head unpropt,

As one past hope, abandon'd,

And by himself given over;

In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds

O're worn and soild;

Or do my eyes misrepresent? Can this be hee,

That Heroic, that Renown'd,

Irresistible Samson? whom unarm'd

No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast could withstand;

Who tore the Lion, as the Lion tears the Kid,

Ran on embattelld Armies clad in Iron,

And weaponless himself,

Made Arms ridiculous, useless the forgery

Of brazen shield and spear, the hammer'd Cuirass,

Chalybean temper'd steel, and frock of mail

Adamantean Proof;

But safest he who stood aloof,

When insupportably his foot advanc't,

In scorn of thir proud arms and warlike tools,

Spurn'd them to death by Troops. The bold Ascalonite

Fled from his Lion ramp, old Warriors turn'd

Thir plated backs under his heel;

Or grovling soild thir crested helmets in the dust.

Then with what trivial weapon came to hand,

The Jaw of a dead Ass, his sword of bone,

A thousand fore-skins fell, the flower of Palestin

In Ramath-lechi famous to this day:

Then by main force pull'd up, and on his shoulders bore

The Gates of Azza, Post, and massie Bar

Up to the Hill by Hebron, seat of Giants old,

No journey of a Sabbath day, and loaded so;

Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up Heav'n.

Which shall I first bewail,

Thy Bondage or lost Sight,

Prison within Prison

Inseparably dark?

Thou art become (O worst imprisonment!)

The Dungeon of thy self; thy Soul

(Which Men enjoying sight oft without cause complain)

Imprison'd now indeed,

In real darkness of the body dwells,

Shut up from outward light

To incorporate with gloomy night;

For inward light alas

Puts forth no visual beam.

O mirror of our fickle state,

Since man on earth unparallel'd!

The rarer thy example stands,

By how much from the top of wondrous glory,

Strongest of mortal men,

To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fall'n.

For him I reckon not in high estate

Whom long descent of birth

Or the sphear of fortune raises;

But thee whose strength, while vertue was her mate,

Might have subdu'd the Earth,

Universally crown'd with highest praises.

SAM.

I hear the sound of words, thir sense the air

Dissolves unjointed e're it reach my ear.

CHOR.

Hee speaks, let us draw nigh. Matchless in might,

The glory late of Israel, now the grief;

We come thy friends and neighbours not unknown

From Eshtaol and Zora's fruitful Vale

To visit or bewail thee, or if better,

Counsel or Consolation we may bring,

Salve to thy Sores, apt words have power to swage

The tumors of a troubl'd mind,

And are as Balm to fester'd wounds.

SAM.

Your coming, Friends, revives me, for I learn

Now of my own experience, not by talk,

How counterfeit a coin they are who friends

Bear in their Superscription (of the most

I would be understood) in prosperous days

They swarm, but in adverse withdraw their head

Not to be found, though sought. Yee see, O friends,

How many evils have enclos'd me round;

Yet that which was the worst now least afflicts me,

Blindness, for had I sight, confus'd with shame,

How could I once look up, or heave the head,

Who like a foolish Pilot have shipwrack't,

My Vessel trusted to me from above,

Gloriously rigg'd; and for a word, a tear,

Fool, have divulg'd the secret gift of God

To a deceitful Woman: tell me Friends,

Am I not sung and proverbd for a Fool

In every street, do they not say, how well

Are come upon him his deserts? yet why?

Immeasurable strength they might behold

In me, of wisdom nothing more then mean;

This with the other should, at least, have paird,

These two proportiond ill drove me transverse.

CHOR.

Tax not divine disposal, wisest Men

Have err'd, and by bad Women been deceiv'd;

And shall again, pretend they ne're so wise.

Deject not then so overmuch thy self,

Who hast of sorrow thy full load besides;

Yet truth to say, I oft have heard men wonder

Why thou shouldst wed Philistian women rather

Then of thine own Tribe fairer, or as fair,

At least of thy own Nation, and as noble.

SAM.

The first I saw at Timna, and she pleas'd

Mee, not my Parents, that I sought to wed,

The daughter of an Infidel: they knew not

That what I motion'd was of God; I knew

From intimate impulse, and therefore urg'd

The Marriage on; that by occasion hence

I might begin Israel's Deliverance,

The work to which I was divinely call'd;

She proving false, the next I took to Wife

(O that I never had! fond wish too late.)

Was in the Vale of Sorec, Dalila,

That specious Monster, my accomplisht snare.

I thought it lawful from my former act,

And the same end; still watching to oppress

Israel's oppressours: of what now I suffer

She was not the prime cause, but I my self,

Who vanquisht with a peal of words (O weakness!)

Gave up my fort of silence to a Woman.

CHOR.

In seeking just occasion to provoke

The Philistine, thy Countries Enemy,

Thou never wast remiss, I bear thee witness;

Yet Israel still serves with all his Sons.

SAM.

That fault I take not on me, but transfer

On Israel's Governours, and Heads of Tribes,

Who seeing those great acts which God had done

Singly by me against their Conquerours

Acknowledg'd not, or not at all consider'd

Deliverance offerd: I on th' other side

Us'd no ambition to commend my deeds,

The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the dooer;

But they persisted deaf, and would not seem

To count them things worth notice, till at length

Thir Lords the Philistines with gather'd powers

Enterd Judea seeking mee, who then

Safe to the rock of Etham was retir'd,

Not flying, but fore-casting in what place

To set upon them, what advantag'd best;

Mean while the men of Judah to prevent

The harrass of thir Land, beset me round;

I willingly on some conditions came

Into thir hands, and they as gladly yield me

To the uncircumcis'd a welcom prey,

Bound with two cords; but cords to me were threds

Toucht with the flame: on thir whole Host I flew

Unarm'd, and with a trivial weapon fell'd

Their choicest youth; they only liv'd who fled.

Had Judah that day join'd, or one whole Tribe,

They had by this possess'd the Towers of Gath,

And lorded over them whom now they serve;

But what more oft in Nations grown corrupt,

And by thir vices brought to servitude,

Then to love Bondage more then Liberty,

Bondage with ease then strenuous liberty;

And to despise, or envy, or suspect

Whom God hath of his special favour rais'd

As thir Deliverer; if he aught begin,

How frequent to desert him, and at last

To heap ingratitude on worthiest deeds?

CHO.

Thy words to my remembrance bring

How Succoth and the Fort of Penuel

Thir great Deliverer contemn'd,

The matchless Gideon in pursuit

Of Madian and her vanquisht Kings:

And how ingrateful Ephraim

Had dealt with Jephtha, who by argument,

Not worse then by his shield and spear

Defended Israel from the Ammonite,

Had not his prowess quell'd thir pride

In that sore battel when so many dy'd

Without Reprieve adjudg'd to death,

For want of well pronouncing Shibboleth.

SAM.

Of such examples adde mee to the roul,

Mee easily indeed mine may neglect,

But Gods propos'd deliverance not so.

CHOR.

Just are the ways of God,

And justifiable to Men;

Unless there be who think not God at all,

If any be, they walk obscure;

For of such Doctrine never was there School,

But the heart of the Fool,

And no man therein Doctor but himself.

Yet more there be who doubt his ways not just,

As to his own edicts, found contradicting,

Then give the rains to wandring thought,

Regardless of his glories diminution;

Till by thir own perplexities involv'd

They ravel more, still less resolv'd,

But never find self-satisfying solution.

As if they would confine th' interminable,

And tie him to his own prescript,

Who made our Laws to bind us, not himself,

And hath full right to exempt

Whom so it pleases him by choice

From National obstriction, without taint

Of sin, or legal debt;

For with his own Laws he can best dispence.

He would not else who never wanted means,

Nor in respect of the enemy just cause

To set his people free,

Have prompted this Heroic Nazarite,

Against his vow of strictest purity,

To seek in marriage that fallacious Bride,

Unclean, unchaste.

Down Reason then, at least vain reasonings down,

Though Reason here aver

That moral verdit quits her of unclean:

Unchaste was subsequent, her stain not his.

But see here comes thy reverend Sire

With careful step, Locks white as doune,

Old Manoah: advise

Forthwith how thou oughtst to receive him.

SAM.

Ay me, another inward grief awak't,

With mention of that name renews th' assault.

MAN.

Brethren and men of Dan, for such ye seem,

Though in this uncouth place; if old respect,

As I suppose, towards your once gloried friend,

My Son now Captive, hither hath inform'd

Your younger feet, while mine cast back with age

Came lagging after; say if he be here.

CHOR.

As signal now in low dejected state,

As earst in highest, behold him where he lies.

MAN.

O miserable change! is this the man,

That invincible Samson, far renown'd,

The dread of Israel's foes, who with a strength

Equivalent to Angels walk'd thir streets,

None offering fight; who single combatant

Duell'd thir Armies rank't in proud array,

Himself an Army, now unequal match

To save himself against a coward arm'd

At one spears length. O ever failing trust

In mortal strength! and oh what not in man

Deceivable and vain! Nay what thing good

Pray'd for, but often proves our woe, our bane?

I pray'd for Children, and thought barrenness

In wedlock a reproach; I gain'd a Son,

And such a Son as all Men hail'd me happy;

Who would be now a Father in my stead?

O wherefore did God grant me my request,

And as a blessing with such pomp adorn'd?

Why are his gifts desirable, to tempt

Our earnest Prayers, then giv'n with solemn hand

As Graces, draw a Scorpions tail behind?

For this did the Angel twice descend? for this

Ordain'd thy nurture holy, as of a Plant;

Select, and Sacred, Glorious for a while,

The miracle of men: then in an hour

Ensnar'd, assaulted, overcome, led bound,

Thy Foes derision, Captive, Poor, and Blind

Into a Dungeon thrust, to work with Slaves?

Alas methinks whom God hath chosen once

To worthiest deeds, if he through frailty err,

He should not so o'rewhelm, and as a thrall

Subject him to so foul indignities,

Be it but for honours sake of former deeds.

SAM.

Appoint not heavenly disposition, Father,

Nothing of all these evils hath befall'n me

But justly; I my self have brought them on,

Sole Author I, sole cause: if aught seem vile,

As vile hath been my folly, who have profan'd

The mystery of God giv'n me under pledge

Of vow, and have betray'd it to a woman,

A Canaanite, my faithless enemy.

This well I knew, nor was at all surpris'd,

But warn'd by oft experience: did not she

Of Timna first betray me, and reveal

The secret wrested from me in her highth

Of Nuptial Love protest, carrying it strait

To them who had corrupted her, my Spies,

And Rivals? In this other was there found

More Faith? who also in her prime of love,

Spousal embraces, vitiated with Gold,

Though offer'd only, by the sent conceiv'd

Her spurious first-born; Treason against me?

Thrice she assay'd with flattering prayers and sighs,

And amorous reproaches to win from me

My capital secret, in what part my strength

Lay stor'd, in what part summ'd, that she might know:

Thrice I deluded her, and turn'd to sport

Her importunity, each time perceiving

How openly, and with what impudence

She purpos'd to betray me, and (which was worse

Then undissembl'd hate) with what contempt

She sought to make me Traytor to my self;

Yet the fourth time, when mustring all her wiles,

With blandisht parlies, feminine assaults,

Tongue-batteries, she surceas'd not day nor night

To storm me over-watch't, and wearied out.

At times when men seek most repose and rest,

I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart,

Who with a grain of manhood well resolv'd

Might easily have shook off all her snares:

But foul effeminacy held me yok't

Her Bond-slave; O indignity, O blot

To Honour and Religion! servil mind

Rewarded well with servil punishment!

The base degree to which I now am fall'n,

These rags, this grinding, is not yet so base

As was my former servitude, ignoble,

Unmanly, ignominious, infamous,

True slavery, and that blindness worse then this,

That saw not how degeneratly I serv'd.

MAN.

I cannot praise thy Marriage choises, Son,

Rather approv'd them not; but thou didst plead

Divine impulsion prompting how thou might'st

Find some occasion to infest our Foes.

I state not that; this I am sure; our Foes

Found soon occasion thereby to make thee

Thir Captive, and thir triumph; thou the sooner

Temptation found'st, or over-potent charms

To violate the sacred trust of silence

Deposited within thee; which to have kept

Tacit, was in thy power; true; and thou bear'st

Enough, and more the burden of that fault;

Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying

That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains,

This day the Philistines a popular Feast

Here celebrate in Gaza; and proclaim

Great Pomp, and Sacrifice, and Praises loud

To Dagon, as their God who hath deliver'd

Thee Samson bound and blind into thir hands,

Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slain.

So Dagon shall be magnifi'd, and God,

Besides whom is no God, compar'd with Idols,

Disglorifi'd, blasphem'd, and had in scorn

By th' Idolatrous rout amidst thir wine;

Which to have come to pass by means of thee,

Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest,

Of all reproach the most with shame that ever

Could have befall'n thee and thy Fathers house.

SAM.

Father, I do acknowledge and confess

That I this honour, I this pomp have brought

To Dagon, and advanc'd his praises high

Among the Heathen round; to God have brought

Dishonour, obloquie, and op't the mouths

Of Idolists, and Atheists; have brought scandal

To Israel, diffidence of God, and doubt

In feeble hearts, propense anough before

To waver, or fall off and joyn with Idols;

Which is my chief affliction, shame and sorrow,

The anguish of my Soul, that suffers not

Mine eie to harbour sleep, or thoughts to rest.

This only hope relieves me, that the strife

With me hath end; all the contest is now

'Twixt God and Dagon; Dagon hath presum'd,

Me overthrown, to enter lists with God,

His Deity comparing and preferring

Before the God of Abraham. He, be sure,

Will not connive, or linger, thus provok'd,

But will arise and his great name assert:

Dagon must stoop, and shall e're long receive

Such a discomfit, as shall quite despoil him

Of all these boasted Trophies won on me,

And with confusion blank his Worshippers.

MAN.

With cause this hope relieves thee, and these words

I as a Prophecy receive: for God,

Nothing more certain, will not long defer

To vindicate the glory of his name

Against all competition, nor will long

Endure it, doubtful whether God be Lord,

Or Dagon. But for thee what shall be done?

Thou must not in the mean while here forgot

Lie in this miserable loathsom plight

Neglected.