her spell at naught. Now she will assail him with tears--a woman's
weapon.

The rumblings of thunder are heard; the scene is lit up by flashes
of lightning. Running before the storm, which is only a precursor
and a symbol of the tempest which is soon to rend his soul, Samson
comes. Dalila upbraids her lover, rebukes his fears, protests her
grief. Samson cannot withstand her tears. He confesses his love,
but he must obey the will of a higher power. "What god is mightier
than Love?" Let him but doubt her constancy and she will die. And
she plays her trump card: "Mon coeur s'ouvre a ta voix," while the
fluttering strings and cooing wood-winds insinuate themselves into
the crevices of Samson's moral harness and loosen the rivets that
hold it together:--

[figure: a musical score excerpt to the words "My heart, at thy
dear voice"]

Herein lies the strength and the weakness of music: it must fain be
truthful. Dalila's words may be hypocritical, but the music speaks
the speech of genuine passion. Not until we hear the refrain echoed
mockingly in the last scene of the drama can we believe that the
passion hymned in this song is feigned. And we almost deplore hat
the composer put it to such disgraceful use. Samson hears the voice
of his God in the growing and again hesitates. The storm bursts as
Dalila shrieks out the hate that fills her and runs toward her
dwelling.

Beethoven sought to suggest external as well as internal peace in
the "Dona nobis" of his Mass in D by mingling the sounds of war