His Samson is not the incarnation of physical strength which the popular fancy embodies in the character; nor is it the simple and romantic character of the Old Testament. On the contrary, Samson has become a Puritan: the observations he makes would have done much credit to a religious pikeman in Cromwell’s army. In consequence, his death requires some lightening touches to make it a properly artistic event. The pomp of seriousness becomes too oppressive. ‘At length for intermission sake they led him Between the pillars; he his guide requested (For so from such as nearer stood we heard), As over-tired, to let him lean a while With both his arms on those two massy pillars That to the arched roof gave main support. He unsuspicious led him; which when Samson Felt in his arms, with head a while inclined, And eyes fast fix’d, he stood, as one who pray’d, Or some great matter in his mind revolved: At last with head erect thus cry’d aloud, “Hitherto, lords, what your commands imposed I have perform’d, as reason was, obeying, Not without wonder or delight beheld: Now of my own accord such other trial 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 solemnise this feast. Samson with these immix’d, inevitably Pull’d down the same destruction on himself; The vulgar only ’scaped who stood without. _Chor._ O dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious! Living or dying thou hast fulfill’d The work for which thou wast foretold To Israel, and now ly’st 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.’ This is grave and fine; but Shakespeare would have done it differently and better.