Divine poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Soone as occasion lent our Champions eare
To Delila, which could not chuse but heare,
If Delila but whisper'd; she, whose wiles
Were neatly baited with her simple smiles,
Accosted Samson; Her alluring hand
Sometimes would stroke his Temples; sometime span'd
His brawny arme, Sometimes, would gently gripe
His sinewy wrest; Another while, would wipe
His sweating browes; Her wanton fingers plai'd,
Sometimes, with his faire lockes; sometimes, would brai'd
His long dishevell'd hair; her eyes, one while
Would steale a glance upon his eyes, and smile;
And, thē, her crafty lips would speak; then, smother
Her broken speech; and, then, begin another:
At last, as if a sudden thought had brake
From the faire prison of her lips, she spake;

How poore a Grisle is this arme of mine!
Me thinkes, 'tis nothing, in respect of thine;
I'd rather feele the power of thy Love,
Than of thy hand; In that, my heart would prove

368

The stouter Champion, and would make thee yeeld,
And leave thee captive in the conquer'd field.
The strength of my affection passes thine,
As much as thy victorious arme does mine;
The greatest conquest, then, is due to me;
Thou conquer'st others, but I conquer thee:
But say, my love, is it some bidden charme,
Or does thy stocke of youth enrich thy arme
With so great power, that can overthrow,
And conquer mighty Kingdomes, at a blow?
What cause have I to joy! J need not feare
The greatest danger, now my Samson's here:
I feare no Rebels now; me thinks, thy power
Makes me a Princesse, and my house, a Tower:
But say, my Love, if Delila should finde thee,
Lost in a fleepe, could not her fingers binde thee?
Me thinkes they should: But I would scorne to make
So poore a Conquest: When th'art broad awake,
Teach me the tricke: Or if thou wilt deny me;
Know, that my owne invention shall supply me,
Without thy helpe: I'le use a womans charmes,
And binde thee fast, within these circled Armes:
To whom, the Champion, smiling, thus replied;

Take the greene Osyers that were never dried,
And bind thy Samsons wrists together, then,
He shall be fast, and weake as other men:
With that, the Philistines, that lay in waite
Within an eares command, commanded strait,
That Osyers should be brought: wherwith she tyed
Victorious Samsons joyned hands, and cryed;
Samson make haste; and let thy strength appeare:
Samson take heed; the Philistines are here:
He starts, and as the flaming fier cracks
The slender substance of th'untwisted flaxe,

369

He twitcht in sunder his divided bands,
And in a moment freed his fastned hands;
With that offended Delila bewrai'd
A frowne, halfe sweetned with a smile, and said;

Thinkst thou, thy Delila does goe about
T'entrappe thy life? Or, can my Samson doubt
To lodge a secret in the loyall brest
Of faithfull Delila, that findes no rest,
No happinesse, but in thy heart, alone,
Whose Joy I prize farre dearer then my owne?
Why then shouldst thou deceive me, and impart
So soule a falshood, to so true a heart?
Come, grant my suite, and let that faithlesse tongue
Make love amends which hath done love this wrong:
To whom dissembling Samson thus replied,
Take twisted ropes, whose strength was never tryed,
And tye these closed hands together; then,
J shall be fast, and weake as other men:
With that, she bound him close; and having made
The knot more suer, then her love's, she said;
Samson arise; and take thy strength vpon thee;
Samson make hast; the Philistines are on thee:
He straight arose, and as a striving hand
Would breake a Sisters thred, he crackt the band
That bound his arms, he crackt the bands in sunder;
But frowning Delila, whose heart did wonder
No lesse then vexe, being fill'd with discontent,
She said; False lover, If thy heart had meant,
What thy faire tongue had formerly profest,
Thou nere hadst kept thy secrets from my brest:
Wherein hath Delila bin found unjust,
Not to deserve the honour of thy trust?
Wherein, have I beene faithlesse or disloyall?
Or what request of thine, ere found denyall?

370

Had I but bin so wise, as to deny,
Samson might beg'd, and misi, as well as I:
But 'tis my fortune, still, to be most free
To those, as are the most reserv'd to me:
Be not ingratefull, Samson; If my brest
Were but as false, as thine is hard, J'd rest
To tempt thy silence, or to move my suite:
Speake then, but speake the truth; or else be mute.
To whom, fond Samson; If thy hands would tye
These locks to yonder Beame, they will discrie
My native weaknesse: and thy Samson, then,
Would be as poore in strength, as other men:
So said; her busie fingers soone obey'd;
His locks being platted to the beame, she said:
Samson bestirre thee; and let thy power appeare:
Samson take heed, the Philistines are here:
With that he quits the place (whereon he lay,
Fallne fast asleepe) and bore the Beame away.