‘What mockery and folly and what lies! I am weary of it all, and will see thee no more. What love can be where there is no trust? Three times hast thou mocked at me, made me a laughing-stock, and put me to scorn. I am done. Keep thy secret, I will have none of it!’

Whereupon she would lay her head upon his shoulder and fall to weeping again. And Samson’s soul was vexed to death.

He could get no rest from her upbraidings, and in mere weariness at last he heeded no more the voice of divine counsel within him. He reasoned with her, entreated her, but all in vain. She sat sullen, shaken with sobs, and refused to answer him. It was on the verge of night. Samson arose and stood gazing out over the starry valley towards the darkness of the sea; and his heart was distraught with sorrow and bitterness.

‘Listen,’ he said, turning himself about, and looking earnestly into her face. ‘It is true that until now I have told thee nothing but idle tales. What deceit was there in that? What profit could it be to thee, seeing that we love one another, to hear what should never be told? But now I am sickened to the soul, and utterly weary. Remember only this, that I would not reveal what I am about to tell thee to anyone but thyself for all the wealth of all the lords of Philistia. And if thou have any true love or kindness for me in thy heart, breathe not one word of it, I beseech thee, lest my enemies should triumph over me. Here now is the truth and all the truth.

‘Even before I was born my mother vowed that my life should be devoted to the service of the God of Israel. He alone is my strength. For I have been a Nazarite ever since I was a child. And though in much I have done amiss, I have kept faithful to my vows. And as a token of their obedience, it is one of the vows of the Nazarites that their hair shall never be shorn, nor any razor come near it. It is a sign and showing of their service to the Lord. So, then, is it with me. Bind the seven locks of my hair in seven looms, and I would pluck them out of the ground like a weed. But if I were to be robbed of them altogether, then the well-spring of my life would be dried up within me. The spirit of the Lord would die out in me. Shamed and abandoned, I should have no more strength than a beast abandoned in the wilderness.

‘But how is it possible for thee to find any reason in what I tell thee. It is between me only and the Lord God. And now, Delilah, let there be peace between us, else we meet no more. And I entreat thee let no word of this be ever so much as whispered of between us again.’