The Annotated Milton: Complete English Poems (157 page)

Now blind, disheart’ned, shamed, dishonored, quelled,
⁷⁵⁷⁸

To what can I be useful? wherein serve

My nation, and the work from Heav’n imposed,

But to sit idle on the household hearth,

A burdenous drone? to visitants a gaze,
⁷⁵⁷⁹

Or pitied object, these redundant
⁷⁵⁸⁰
locks

Robustious
⁷⁵⁸¹
to no purpose clust’ring down,

Vain monument of strength, till length of years

And sedentary numbness craze
⁷⁵⁸²
my limbs

To a contemptible old age obscure.

Here rather let me drudge and earn my bread,

Till vermin or the draff
⁷⁵⁸³
of servile food

Consume me, and oft-invocated death

Hast’n the welcome end of all my pains.

MAN. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with that gift

Which was expressly giv’n thee to annoy
⁷⁵⁸⁴
them?

Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle—

Inglorious, unemployed,
⁷⁵⁸⁵
with age out-worn.

But God who caused a fountain at thy prayer

From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst to allay

After the brunt
⁷⁵⁸⁶
of battle,
⁷⁵⁸⁷
can as easy

Cause light again within thy eyes to spring,

Wherewith to serve Him better than thou hast.

And I persuade me so. Why else this strength

Miraculous yet remaining in those locks?

His might continues in thee, not for naught,

Nor shall His wondrous gifts be frustrate thus.

SAM. All otherwise to me my thoughts portend,
⁷⁵⁸⁸

That these dark orbs no more shall treat
⁷⁵⁸⁹
with light,

Nor th’ other light of life continue long,

But yield to double darkness nigh at hand.

So much I feel my genial
⁷⁵⁹⁰
spirits droop,

My hopes all flat. Nature within me seems

In all her functions weary of herself,

My race of glory run, and race of shame,

And I shall shortly be with them that rest.

MAN. Believe not these suggestions, which proceed

From anguish of the mind and humors
⁷⁵⁹¹
black,

That mingle with thy fancy.
⁷⁵⁹²
I however

Must not omit a father’s timely care

To prosecute
⁷⁵⁹³
the means of thy deliverance,

By ransom or how else. Meanwhile be calm,

And healing words from these thy friends admit.
⁷⁵⁹⁴

SAM. O that torment
⁷⁵⁹⁵
should not be confined
⁷⁵⁹⁶

To the body’s wounds and sores,

With maladies innumerable

In heart, head, breast, and reins,
⁷⁵⁹⁷

But must secret passage find

To th’ inmost mind,

There exercise
⁷⁵⁹⁸
all his fierce accidents,
⁷⁵⁹⁹

And on her purest spirits prey,

As on entrails, joints, and limbs,

With answerable
⁷⁶⁰⁰
pains, but more intense,

Though void of corporal sense.
⁷⁶⁰¹

My griefs not only pain me

As a ling’ring disease,

But finding no redress, ferment
⁷⁶⁰²
and rage,

Nor less than wounds immedicable
⁷⁶⁰³

Rankle,
⁷⁶⁰⁴
and fester, and gangrene
⁷⁶⁰⁵

To black mortification.
⁷⁶⁰⁶

Thoughts (my tormentors) armed with deadly stings

Mangle my apprehensive
⁷⁶⁰⁷
tenderest parts,

Exasperate,
⁷⁶⁰⁸
exulcerate, and raise

Dire inflammation which no cooling herb

Or med’cinal liquor can assuage,
⁷⁶⁰⁹

Nor breath of vernal air from snowy Alp.

Sleep hath forsook and giv’n me o’er

To death’s benumbing opium as my only cure.

Thence faintings, swoonings of despair,

And sense of Heav’n’s desertion.

I was His nursling once, and choice delight,

His destined
⁷⁶¹⁰
from the womb,

Promised by Heav’nly message twice descending.

Under His special
⁷⁶¹¹
eye

Abstemious
⁷⁶¹²
I grew up and thrived amain.
⁷⁶¹³

He led me on to mightiest deeds

(Above the nerve
⁷⁶¹⁴
of mortal arm)

Against th’ uncircumcised, our enemies,

But now hath cast me off as
⁷⁶¹⁵
never known,

And to those cruel enemies,

Whom I by His appointment
⁷⁶¹⁶
had provoked,
⁷⁶¹⁷

Left me all helpless with th’ irreparable loss

Of sight, reserved alive to be repeated
⁷⁶¹⁸

The subject of their cruelty, or scorn.

Nor am I in the list
⁷⁶¹⁹
of them that hope.

Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless.

This one prayer yet remains, might I be heard:

No long petition, speedy death,

The close of all my miseries, and the balm.

CHOR. Many are the sayings of the wise,

In ancient and in modern books enrolled,
⁷⁶²⁰

Extolling patience as the truest fortitude,
⁷⁶²¹

And to the bearing well of all calamities,

All chances incident to man’s frail life,

Consolatories writ

With studied
⁷⁶²²
argument, and much persuasion
⁷⁶²³
sought,
⁷⁶²⁴

Lenient
⁷⁶²⁵
of grief and anxious thought.

But with th’ afflicted in his pangs their sound

Little prevails, or rather seems a tune

Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint,

Unless he feel within

Some source of consolation from above,

Secret refreshings, that repair
⁷⁶²⁶
his strength,

And fainting spirits uphold.

God of our fathers, what is man!

That Thou towards him with hand so various,
⁷⁶²⁷

Or might I say contrarious,

Temper’st Thy providence through his short course
⁷⁶²⁸

Not evenly, as thou rul’st

The Angelic orders and inferior creatures mute,

Irrational and brute.

Nor do I name of men the common rout,
⁷⁶²⁹

That wand’ring loose
⁷⁶³⁰
about

Grow up and perish, as
⁷⁶³¹
the summer fly,

Heads without name no more remembered!

But such as Thou hast solemnly
⁷⁶³²
elected,
⁷⁶³³

With gifts and graces eminently adorned

To some great work, Thy glory

And people’s safety,
⁷⁶³⁴
which in part they effect.

Yet toward these thus dignified,
⁷⁶³⁵
Thou oft

Amidst their height of noon

Changest Thy countenance and Thy hand, with no regard

Of highest favors past

From Thee on them, or them to Thee of service.

Nor only dost degrade them, or remit
⁷⁶³⁶

To life obscured, which were a fair dismission,

But throw’st them lower than Thou did’st exalt them high,

Unseemly falls,
⁷⁶³⁷
in human eye,

Too grievous for the trespass or omission—

Oft leav’st them to the hostile sword

Of heathen and profane,
⁷⁶³⁸
their carcasses

To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captived,

Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times,

And condemnation of the ungrateful multitude.

If these they scape, perhaps in poverty

With sickness and disease Thou bow’st them down,

Painful diseases and deformed,

In crude
⁷⁶³⁹
old age,

Though not disordinate,
⁷⁶⁴⁰
yet causeless suff ’ring

The punishment of dissolute days. In fine,
⁷⁶⁴¹

Just or unjust alike seem miserable,

For oft alike both come to evil end.

So
⁷⁶⁴²
deal not, with this once Thy glorious champion,

The image of Thy strength, and mighty minister.
⁷⁶⁴³

What do I beg? How hast Thou dealt
⁷⁶⁴⁴
already?

Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn

His labors—for Thou canst—to peaceful end.

But who is this, what thing of sea or land?

Female of sex it seems,

That so bedecked, ornate, and gay,

Comes this way sailing

Like a stately ship

Of Tarsus,
⁷⁶⁴⁵
bound for th’ Isles

Of Javan
⁷⁶⁴⁶
or Gadier,
⁷⁶⁴⁷

With all her bravery
⁷⁶⁴⁸
on, and tackle
⁷⁶⁴⁹
trim,
⁷⁶⁵⁰

Sails filled, and streamers
⁷⁶⁵¹
waving

(Courted by all the winds that hold them play),
⁷⁶⁵²

An amber scent of odorous perfume

Her harbinger,
⁷⁶⁵³
a damsel train
⁷⁶⁵⁴
behind.

Some rich Philistian matron she may seem,

And now at nearer view, no other, certain,

Than Dalila, thy wife.

SAM. My wife, my traitress, let her not come near me.

CHOR. Yet on she moves, now stands and eyes thee fixed,
⁷⁶⁵⁵

About t’ have spoke, but now, with head declined

Like a fair flower surcharged
⁷⁶⁵⁶
with dew, she weeps

And words addressed
⁷⁶⁵⁷
seem into tears dissolved,

Wetting the borders of her silken veil.

But now again she makes address
⁷⁶⁵⁸
to speak.

DAL. With doubtful feet and wavering resolution

I came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson,

Which to have merited, without excuse,

I cannot but acknowledge. Yet if tears

May expiate (though the fact more evil drew
⁷⁶⁵⁹

In the perverse
⁷⁶⁶⁰
event than I foresaw)

My penance hath not slack’ned, though my pardon

No way assured. But conjugal affection

Prevailing over fear and timorous doubt,

Hath led me on, desirous to behold

Once more thy face, and know of thy estate.
⁷⁶⁶¹

If aught in my ability may serve

To lighten what thou suffer’st, and appease

Thy mind with what amends is in my power,

Though late, yet in some part to recompense

My rash but more unfortunate misdeed.

SAM. Out, out hyena! These are thy wonted
⁷⁶⁶²
arts,

And arts of every woman false like thee,

To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray,

Then as
⁷⁶⁶³
repentant to submit, beseech

And reconcilement move
⁷⁶⁶⁴
with feigned remorse,

Confess, and promise wonders in her change,

Not truly penitent, but chief
⁷⁶⁶⁵
to try
⁷⁶⁶⁶