But, ere his hair was clipped or y-shave, There was no bond with which men might him bind; But now is he in prison in a cave, Where as they made him at the quernë 4063 grind. O noble Sampson, strongest of mankind! O whilom judge in glory and richéss! Now may’st thou weepë with thine eyen blind, Since thou from weal art fall’n to wretchedness.

Th’ end of this caitiff 4064 was as I shall say; His foemen made a feast upon a day, And made him as their fool before them play; And this was in a temple of great array. But at the last he made a foul affray, For he two pillars shook, and made them fall, And down fell temple and all, and there it lay, And slew himself and eke his foemen all;