Somehow the story of these trials of strength reached the Hebrew settlements, and they construed it that the Philistines were seeking to take him. When he came among them, magniloquent, magnificent, they questioned him and he gave no answer, letting them believe that his old enemies were spreading nets for him. A great terror arose in them. And they tried to persuade him to come back to them. But he would n't. He was equal to all their stratagems, he hinted. "But the women!" they said, "nothing passes the cunning of a woman. Better leave her, Samson; better leave her now."
"The woman pleases me well." And he would n't be moved.
The woman pleased him, but he did n't love her; and he displeased her, but she loved him. In Delilah's heart was so much aching love for him, such depth of passion, that at times she was ashamed. It seemed to her that she had given everything in her to this man. No matter how displeased she was, no matter how humiliated by his boastings, by his circus tricks, when night came, and he put out his hand to her, all the irritation of the day passed, and her being sang.
She had chosen her husband, and what she had chosen was her own business. No matter how queer he was, she could n't have him laughed at.... So they stayed away, and she was glad of it and little by little the great wonder of her marriage provoked no more passion, no more discussion. Only when a stranger appeared, or some old friend, and asked in the public assemblies of Delilah, and the incongruous marriage was once more brought up and discussed. Shoulders shrugged.
"And is she happy?"
"We don't know. We don't see much of her any more."
A new strange element came up in this isolation: Samson did n't like being left alone by the Philistines. Somewhere in his mind arose the theory that it was a new insult, a new harm. He grew short with his wife; became irritable; nothing pleased him. He was not a farmer, a warrior he! he complained. He was entitled to relaxation, amusement, conversation. He was no vegetable--
"Then, Samson, you would like people here?"
He did n't like to be left alone, as though he had the plague, or treated as though he were nobody, by God!
"Then they shall come, Samson."
But ah! there was something, he objected. He did n't like this damned superciliousness, this accursed Philistine superiority--
"You imagine it, Samson. You are too sensitive, my big lover."
"Then they are not superior? are not better than I?"
"Of course not, great Samson. In every way you are as good as they, the same as they. You would look the same as they, only better-looking, more magnificent, if only--"
"If only what?"
"Oh, don't be angry with me, lover, if I tell you. There is only one thing remarkable about you; one thing they can criticize. If only your hair--"
"Ha! my hair!"
"O Lover, without it, you would look so great and splendid, and dignified. There would be nothing to criticize."
"But Delilah, my strength is in my hair."
"O lover, lover, don't be silly!"
"Also, my parents took a vow--"
"But darling, your parents never knew you were to be such a great man, and that you would have to command respect from the nation--"
"Of course, of course. But, Delilah, if my strength goes--"
"Dearest, it won't go. How could it?"
"And they won't have anything to criticize then! Ha! Then off it comes!"
She was so happy, the tears came into her eyes. This strange desire to wear his hair long as a woman's had been a bugbear to her. This foppishness, freakishness, superstition, whatever it was, it made him remarkable. She could n't suffer to have men smile at him.
"If you only knew how happy you make me!"
He was ludicrously nervous as she shore off the great red braids. He was more, he was frightened. The burden gone, he strolled casually around, picked up a little bar of iron at the fireplace, twisted it to form a loop, was satisfied. Glanced at himself in the long metal mirror, smiled.
"I think it suits me well."
A thrill of delight came to Delilah, a new, a younger Samson had appeared. Her heart went pit-a-pat.... A great dignity sat on him now, and he weighed his words at the table. Gone with his hair was his old arrogance, and seemingly his race hatred.... The Philistines spoke among themselves, wondering how she had done it. This quiet, well-groomed man, remarkable only for his size and height, could this be the same red rebel whom they had known a few short months ago? A wonderful woman.
But when the Hebrews heard of it, a great chill fell on their hearts, and they wrung their hands. "They have cut off our Samson's hair. Oh, woe!" they cried. "The woman enticed him, and he a Nazarite unto God from his mother's womb. Oh, woe! Oh, woe! Gone is his strength now, and gone is glory!" But the red one, all agog with his new worldliness, paid no heed to them, went never near them.
For some brief weeks Delilah knew happiness such as she never believed possible in earth or heaven.... So fine, so strong he looked, so greatly he acted, so--so fully he loved.... Of course it could n't have lasted, she knew now. How fast catastrophe!
Quietly he said one day: "How soon it gets dark! Night falls faster than it used. An hour ago the sun was shining, and now it is dark."
She felt as if some cruel fingers had seized her heart, her throat. She froze to the ground.
"What did you say?"
"I say, why don't the maidens bring lights?"
"Not yet, dear heart.... Let us stay in the warm dusk. Wait, I take your hand."
A few days later he stumbled and all but fell, was clumsy. She flew to his side.
"My eyes," he said, "a touch of sun. Nothing particular." But she sent for a physician.
"It's nothing," Samson said. "Something I 've eaten. I 'll go to sleep."
"Dear Samson, to please me." The physician examined his eyes.
"Well?" Delilah drew him aside.
"The early days in the desert.... He is going blind."
"Is there no hope, no cure?"
"None."
A little laugh of agony came from her. Great Samson blind! The little lover blind!... Oh, God!...
"Shall we tell him?"
"No, no!" she burst out. Maybe there was some mistake! "No. We sha'n't tell him."
A few days later came a great bellow from the garden!
"The sun has gone out of the sky," she heard him exalt. "The day of wrath is on us. The God of the Hebrews will judge the just and the unjust. O Philistines, your day has come. The sun has gone out of the sky."
She flew to him, her feet hardly touching the grass.
"The sun has gone out of the sky," he chanted; "now is silence, but soon the mountains will rend, the cliffs fall, and the Lord God of Hosts will appear in thunder!"
"Oh, Samson, Samson!" Her face was a wet mask of tears. Her arms went quickly about him. "Listen, Samson!"
"Delilah, the sun has gone out of the sky!"
"Samson, Samson, you are great, you are big, you are brave. Be brave now, heart of hearts--"
"The Day of Days is here. The sun has gone out of the sky."
"Worse, my darling, worse. Worse than that the sun should be gone from the sky. The sun, Samson, the sun--the sun has gone out of your eyes!"
VI
"Then I am blind," he said quietly, after a little while.
"Dearest, I shall be eyes for you, watching, wary. Oh, poor, poor Samson, put your head on my shoulder, your eyes close to my heart. You shall see with my heart. I give it to you to see with.... Cry, Samson, if you must, cry on my shoulder." She sought to draw him closer to the haven of her breast. But he had stiffened, and his great hand and arm had stiffened. He just moved her ponderously aside.... He raised his head to the autumn sky, and a great bellow came from his chest.
"The Philistines are upon me. They have put out my eyes."
"Samson! Dear heart, listen--"
"They have shaven the seven locks of my head. They have taken my strength from me. They have put out my eyes."
"Samson, Samson, listen. It is I, Delilah. Don't you know me?"
His great roar had brought out the household, and men from the hillside, and stopped folk on the road. And they all came running now thinking some murder was being done.
"I know you, Delilah. I know you well. The Lords of the Philistines gave you silver to entice me. I knew you, and the Lord departed from me."
"Samson, don't! Don't, Samson!"
"Away, harlot!" And he struck at her blindly. Only the tips of his fingers touched her shoulder, but the force of them sent her to the ground. Her household crouched to spring.
"For God's sake, no!" she almost screamed at them.
"The Philistines are upon me. They have put out my eyes!" he roared. He went stumbling piteously through the orchard, the trunks of the trees hurtling him, the branches striking his defenseless face. Somehow he gained the road: "Delilah, the great whore, enticed me, and the Lords of the Philistines put out my eyes--" his piteous bellow was like the crying of some stricken animal. Delilah called a serving-lad.
"Go after my lord Samson," she said, "and lead him whithersoever he wishes."
All afternoon and evening, and late into the night she sat white and stricken, waiting for his step, waiting for news of him. In the darkness a horse galloped up. An officer of the Philistines sought her.