I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater,
As with amaze shall strike all who behold."
This utter'd, straining all his nerves he bow'd;
As with the force of winds and waters pent,
When mountains tremble, those two massy pillars
With horrible convulsion to and fro

He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew
The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder
Upon the heads of all who sat beneath,

Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests,
Their choice nobility and flower, not only
Of this but each Philistian city round,
Met from all parts to solemnize this feast.
Samson, with these immix'd, inevitably
Pull'd down the same destruction on himself;
The vulgar only scaped who stood without.

Cho. O dearly bought revenge, yet glorious!
Living or dying thou hast fulfill'd

The work for which thou wast foretold
To Israel, and now liest victorious

Among thy slain self-kill'd,

Not willingly, but tangled in the fold

Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd
Thee with thy slaughter'd foes, in number more
Than all thy life hath slain before.

[sublime,

1 Semichor. While their hearts were jocund and

Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine,
And fat regorged of bulls and goats,
Chanting their idol, and preferring
Before our living Dread who dwells

In Silo, his bright sanctuary:

Among them he a spirit of frenzy sent,
Who hurt their minds,

And urged them on with mad desire
To call in haste for their destroyer;
They, only set on sport and play,
Unweetingly impórtuned

Their own destruction to come speedy upon them.
So fond are mortal men,

Fallen into wrath divine,

As their own ruin on themselves to invite,
Insensate left, or to sense reprobate,

And with blindness internal struck.

2 Semichor. But he, though blind of sight, Despised and thought extinguish'd quite, With inward eyes illuminated,

His fiery virtue roused

From under ashes into sudden flame,

And as an evening dragon came,

Assailant on the perched roosts

And nests in order ranged

Of tame villatic fowl; but as an eagle

His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads.

So Virtue, given for lost,

Depress'd, and overthrown, as seem'd

Like that self-begotten bird

In the Arabian woods embost,

That no second knows nor third,

And lay ere while a holocaust,

From out her ashy womb now teem'd,

Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most

When most unactive deem'd;

And, though her body die, her fame survives

A secular bird ages of lives.

Man. Come, come; no time for lamentation now, Nor much more cause; Samson hath quit himself Like Samson, and heroicly hath finish'd

A life heroic; on his enemies

Fully revenged, hath left them years of mourning,
And lamentation to the sons of Caphtor
Through all Philistian bounds; to Israel
Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them
Find courage to lay hold on this occasion;
To himself and father's house eternal fame;
And, which is best and happiest yet, all this
With God not parted from him, as was fear'd,
But favouring and assisting to the end.
Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail

Or knock the breast; no weakness, no contempt,
Dispraise, or blame; nothing but well and fair,
And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
Let us go find the body where it lies

Soak'd in his enemies' blood; and from the stream
With lavers pure, and cleansing herbs, wash off
The clotted gore. I, with what speed the while
(Gaza is not in plight to say us nay),

Will send for all my kindred, all my friends,
To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend,

With silent obsequy and funeral train,

Home to his father's house: there will I build him

A monument, and plant it round with shade
Of laurel ever green, and branching palm,
With all his trophies hung, and acts enroll'd
In copious legend or sweet lyric song.
Thither shall all the valiant youth resort,
And from his memory inflame their breasts
To matchless valour and adventures high:
The virgins also shall, on feastful days,
Visit his tomb with flowers; only bewailing
His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice,
From whence captivity and loss of eyes.
Cho. All is best, though we oft doubt
What the unsearchable dispose
Of highest Wisdom brings about,
And ever best found in the close.
Oft he seems to hide his face,

But unexpectedly returns,

And to his faithful champion hath in place

Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns,

And all that band them to resist

His uncontrollable intent:

His servants he, with new acquist

Of true experience, from this great event
With peace and consolation hath dismiss'd,

And calm of mind all passion spent.

COMU S.

A Mask.

PRESENTED AT LUDLOW CASTLE, 1634,

BEFORE

JOHN, EARL OF BRIDGEWATER,

THEN PRESIDENT OF WALES.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

JOHN LORD VISCOUNT BRACKLEY,

SON AND HEIR APPARENT TO THE EARL OF BRIDGEWATER, &c.

MY LORD,

THIS poem, which received its first occasion of birth from yourself and others of your noble family, and much honour from your own person in the performance, now returns again to make a final dedication of itself to you. Although not openly acknowledged by the author, yet it is a legitimate offspring, so lovely, and so much desired, that the often copying of it hath tired my pen to give my several friends satisfaction, and brought me to a necessity of producing it to the public view; and now to offer it up in all rightful devotion to those fair hopes, and rare endowments of your much promising youth, which give a full assurance, to all that know you, of a future ex