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I shall be nam'd among the famousest
Of women, fung at folemn festivals,
Living and dead recorded, who, to fave
Her country from a fierce deftroyer, chofe
Above the faith of wedlock-bands, my tomb
With odors vifited and annual flowers;
Not lefs renown'd than in mount Ephraim
Jael, who with inhofpitable guile
Smote Sifera fleeping through the temples nail'd. 990
Nor fhall I count it hainous to enjoy

The public marks of honor and reward,


Conferr'd upon me, for the piety

Which to my country I was judg'd to' have shown. At this whoever envies or repines,


I leave him to his lot, and like my own.

CHO. She's gone, a manifest serpent by her sting Difcover'd in the end, till now conceal'd.

SAMS. So let her go, God fent her to debase me, And aggravate my folly, who committed To fuch a viper his most facred trust


Of fecrefy, my safety, and my life.


CHO. Yet beauty, though injurious, hath ftrange After offenfe returning, to regain Love once poffefs'd, nor can be eafily Repuls'd, without much inward paffion felt And fecret fting of amorous remorse.


SAMS. Love-quarrels oft in pleafing concord end, Not wedlock-treachery indangering life.

CHO. It is not virtue, wifdom, valor, wit, Strength, comeliness of shape, or ampleft merit



That woman's love can win or long inherit;
But what it is, hard is to say,

Harder to hit,

(Which way foever men refer it)
Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day
Or feven, though one should mufing fit.
If any of these or all, the Timnian bride
Had not fo foon preferr'd

Thy paranymph, worthless to thee compar'd,
Succeffor in thy bed,

Nor both fo loofly difally'd

Their nuptials, nor this laft fo treacherously
Had fhorn the fatal harveft of thy head.
Is it for that fuch outward ornament
Was lavish'd on their fex, that inward gifts
Were left for hafte unfinish'd, judgment scant,
Capacity not rais'd to apprehend

Or value what is beft

In choice, but ofteft to affect the wrong?
Or was too much of felf-love mix'd,
Of conftancy no root infix'd,

That either they love nothing, or not long?
Whate'er it be, to wifeft men and beft
Seeming at firft all heav'nly under virgin veil,
Soft, modeft, meek, demure,

Once join'd, the contrary fhe proves, a thorn
Inteftin, far within defenfive arms
A cleaving mischief, in his way to virtue
Adverse and turbulent, or by her charms
Draws him awry inflav'd







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With dotage, and his fenfe deprav'd

To folly' and fhameful deeds which ruin ends.
What pilot fo expert but needs must wreck
Imbark'd with such a steers-mate at the helm? 1045

Favor'd of Heav'n who finds

One virtuous rarely found,

That in domeftic good combines :

Happy that house! his way to peace is smooth:
But virtue, which breaks through all oppofition, 1050

And all temptation can remove,

Most shines and moft is acceptable above.
Therefore God's univerfal law

Gave to the man defpotic power
Over his female in due awe,
Nor from that right to part an hour,
Smile fhe or lour:


So fhall he leaft confufion draw

On his whole life, not sway'd

By female ufurpation, or dismay'd.

But had we best retire, I fee a storm?
SAMS. Fair days have oft contracted wind and rain.
CHO. But this another kind of tempeft brings.
SAMS. Be lefs abftrufe, my riddling days are past.
CHO. Look now for no inchanting voice, nor fear
The bait of honied words; a rougher tongue
Draws hitherward, I know him by his ftride,
The giant Harapha of Gath, his look
Haughty as is his pile high-built and proud.
Comes he in peace? what wind hath blown him hither
I lefs conjecture than when first I faw




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