As I sat on the edge of the bed sobbing, Samson came and put his arms around me. "Do not weep, my love," he said. "I do love you, but what if some of your former customers had happened by while I was bound and I had really told you the secret of my strength. I would have been unable to protect you."

Sniffling, I replied, "I have not had customers since I took you in as a boarder, Samson. I told Helez to spread the word that I would be unavailable as long as you are here. They think you are paying me handsomely for my services."

"And are they such gentlemen that they would rather have you in another man's bed growing rich than fulfilling their own lusts? I think not, Delilah. Eventually they will come back and demand your services or your home."

"Not as long as you are the man who resides in my home. You know you are feared throughout the land. So, tell me, Samson, please tell me what you may be bound with?" I cajoled.

With a sigh, Samson reached out his gigantic hands and began to massage my tight shoulders.

"Why is it so important to you, Delilah? I am here, am I not? I love you. Though I do not pay you for bedding me, I gladly pay for my lodging and food. If you are losing money because I am here, I will gladly pay more."

"It is not a matter of money," I responded scornfully, rising from the bed and putting my hands on my hips. With Samson seated, I was about eye level with him. Leaning toward him so that my face was only inches from his, I hissed, "I resent the implication that I am allowing you to stay only so long as you make up for my lost wages. I thought you truly believed that I love you. I have not been making enough off of lodging to keep myself in the manner to which I had become accustomed. I was willing to settle for less and supplement the money you paid from what I had saved for the day when I am no longer comely and men will not pay such high prices for my services. You have sullied our relationship with your insinuations."

Slumping down in apparent defeat, Samson said, "I did not mean to make you feel cheap or used Delilah. Please be patient with me." Looking desperate, he pulled me onto his lap and whispered into my hair. "If I tell you, will you cease to question my sincerity and believe without further proof?"

"Yes, Samson," I said breathlessly. "Yes. If you tell me, I will take you at your word."

And so he told me that if he were bound securely with new ropes that had never been used, he would become weak and have the strength of an ordinary man.

For seven days I pretended I had believed Samson. Although I got the necessary ropes the next day, I explained to the merchant that I had to bide my time so Samson would not suspect anything. I hid the ropes in the wine room, a room Samson had never entered. While I was prepared to continue sleeping in the lust chamber, Samson refused, saying that he thought the memories I faced in that room had led me to bind him. 

Part of the reason I delayed was that I feared that he would sleep less soundly in my presence, since I had tested him once. Several times in the nights following, I waited until he slept and then started and cried out in my sleep as though suffering from a nightmare. Each time Samson would awaken quickly as he had when I told him the Philistines were there. Each time he held me and soothed me until he thought I was asleep and then slept again. Finally, I told Samson that I thought the nightmares would only be banished if we slept again in the other room. I still could not bring myself to betray him in my own bedchamber. 

Finally Samson acquiesced. The first night in the lust chamber, Samson refused to have sex with me. He told me that the room held too many bad memories of sexual encounters and that they could best be banished by doing something else in the room. When we finally slept, Samson was restless in his sleep, never seeming to fall into a deep sleep. The second night, was the same. Finally on the third night, Samson gave in to his physical desire for me. After we had intercourse, he fell into a deep slumber. Immediately I put out the signal and then bound Samson with the ropes. I could only presume the Philistine men had a watchman outside my door every night. I had told the merchant I could not predict when Samson would be lulled once again into complacency so I could bind him.

Because Samson had freed himself so easily the first time, the merchant had given me brief lessons in knot tying when I came through the market. Now I checked the knots to make sure they were secure and then cried out, "The Philistines are upon you Samson!"

Just as he had the last time, Samson sprang up, snapping his bonds easily as he looked around the empty room crying, "Where, Delilah? Where are my enemies?"

Once again he quickly ascertained that he and I were the only ones in the room. Sitting down on the edge of the bed and removing the remnants of the useless ropes, he said ruefully, "I thought you said you would not test what I told you, Delilah."

"I know, I did, Samson. And I tried not to. But you were not acting yourself. I could not help but believe you had once again mocked me and told me lies. And I was right Samson. You lied to me. Once again you made a mockery of our love. I want to believe you love me. I know you continue to stay with me, and you keep other men at bay. You tell me you are giving me time to heal. But, Samson, the thing that you can do that will allow me to trust you is to tell me the truth about how you can be bound."

Bowing his head as though in submission, Samson said in resignation, "See the seven braids I have woven from my hair? They have significance, Delilah. Haven't I told you that seven is the sacred number to Yahweh?"

"What about the seven locks?" I asked excitedly.

Perhaps my eagerness caused Samson to rethink his intentions. His eyes narrowed as he peered at me speculatively saying, "I will tell you, Delilah, but first I must find an Israelite priest and confess my sins. Because I have lied to you, I am impure. I will leave tomorrow and when I return I will tell you my secret."

Fearing he would leave and never return, I began to cry in desperation, "Do not leave me, Samson. I love you. I will be content even if you will not tell me."

Reaching out his hand, he softly caressed my cheek, saying, "No, Delilah. I fear you will not."

Grasping his hand in desperation, I begged, "Then tell me, Samson. I am afraid for you to leave me. It will be hard to return to my trade after having loved you. Please, Samson, appease my love."

Once again believing my desperation to stem from the insecurity of the frightened child within, Samson capitulated. "Very well, Delilah. If you weave my braids into the web of the loom, I will become as weak as any other man."

After he had told me the lie about weaving his seven braids into a loom and I had once again tested his words, I did not cry and beg as before. Instead, I packed Samson's few possessions. Taking them, the phylactery Samson had given me, and a pouch containing all of the money Samson had paid to stay in my home, I went to him.

"Samson," I said softly. "It is time for you to go. You spoke of the need to confess to a priest. Now is the time to confess, but do not bother to return. You have shown that you cannot tear down the walls that guard your heart. You say, 'I love you,' but your heart is not with me. You have mocked me these three times and have not told me where your great strength lies. I have told you my innermost secrets. I cannot continue to be with you if you cannot share all of yourself with me. I thought you were different than other men. I thought you loved me for who I am. I hoped you would love me enough to make yourself vulnerable to me, to give me the same power over you that you wield over me. I was wrong Samson. You are like all of the others. You seek to maintain your power over me, just in a different way. I am returning all of your money and your jeweled gift so you will know that I truly loved you and did not simply harbor you for what you could offer. Take these things and go. I should have known better than to trust a man. My father taught me a hard lesson. Almost I let you destroy the strength my father gave me, even if he gave it in a twisted way."

As I spoke, one lone tear fell from my right eye, ran down my check and dripped onto the hand holding the pouch and phylactery out to Samson. When he reached to take the things, I began to turn, but he caught my hand held it to his mouth and kissed away the betraying drop.

"Wait, Delilah. Give me one more chance. This time I will tell you the truth. Look into my eyes, Delilah. You will see no deception there. But you must promise not to test the information I give because if you do, I truly will be destroyed. My strength will be that of an ordinary man and it will not return. I will no longer be the man of legend, Delilah. I will be an ordinary mortal. If you test my words, I can no longer be your protector because it will be apparent to the Philistines that my strength is altered."

As he spoke, I looked into his eyes. This time I saw no veil of protection, and I was certain that Samson was about to tell me his heart.

"No, razor has ever touched my head," he said hoarsely. "I have been a Nazarite to God from my mother's womb. I told you that part of my vow was to refrain from strong drink. The other part was not to cut my hair. If I am shaven, then my strength will leave me, and I shall become weak and be like any other man."

As he finished speaking, I slipped my arms around his neck and snuggled against his muscular frame. Rubbing my check in his thick chest hair, I said breathlessly, "I perceive that you have told me your heart this time, Samson." Then looking up through veiled lashes, I said with an almost shy smile. "Tonight we will celebrate. I will make a special feast. We will cement our new relationship here in the courtyard where your god of creation can watch and grant his blessing. We will not need to indulge our lust because love will truly be enough."

Samson caught me in an embrace and swung me around before clasping me against his bosom.

"I did not know you were such a romantic at heart," he said with a laugh. "Prepare your feast. Then we will eat under the stars."

Of course, a special feast required special food. I went to the market to shop. While there, I told the merchant that tonight would be the night. Since Samson's head would need to be shaved, I got him to give me something to put in Samson's drink so he would not awaken before the task was completed. I told him to come to the room with the lords of the Philistines and the promised money. When I started to sing a child's lullaby, I told him to sneak into the room carrying sheers and shave Samson's head. My plan was to lull Samson to sleep in my lap.

I carefully roasted the tender meat from a spotless lamb over an open spit in the courtyard. I made fresh bread from wheat grain I had bought at the market, rather than the barley loaf of our daily fare. I simmered some beans. I prepared exotic fruits that I had bought at the market. I made pockets from some pita bread, fried them in olive oil and filled them with fresh honey. The feast was completed with fresh olives and goat's milk.

Samson and I lounged together under the olive tree and ate everything at a leisurely pace. Sometimes we would feed one another, kissing deeply when our lips met in the middle of a shared morsel. After the meal was finished, I brought out some grapes and began to mash them in a bowl. I told Samson that since he could not have wine, I would make him a drink of the vine that was not fermented. I had already placed the sleeping powder in a cup. After I had poured the grape juice into cups, I gave one to Samson and I took the other. I raised my cup, swirled my juice around and said, "To our love."

Following my example, Samson swirled his juice, intoned solemnly, "To our love," and drank deeply.

Coaxing him to lay his head in my lap, I told Samson to look to the stars and thank his god for our love. Then I began to sing some of the songs Samson had taught me that were a part of his heritage. As I sang, Samson began to yawn and then fell asleep. When I was certain he was in a deep slumber, I began to sing the lullaby.

As the first strains of the lullaby echoed through the courtyard, the merchant materialized from the shadows. He cautiously approached us. When I motioned, he knelt in front of me, reaching out a tentative hand and touching Samson's head. When the sleeping giant stirred in his sleep, he hastily withdrew his hand. Without changing the tune of my song, I sang, "Do not be afraid. He is drugged. But you must act before the effect of the sleeping draught wears off."

Taking one braid in my hand, I held it aloft so the merchant could cut it. When all seven braids were shorn, the merchant shaved Samson's head completely and then merged back into the shadows so I could awaken Samson.

I sang one last song. A song about a lover betrayed. Then I cried, "The Philistines are upon you, Samson!"

He roused partially from his drugged sleep, saying in a slurred voice, "I will go out as before and shake myself free."

As he staggered to his feet the Lords of the Philistines emerged from the shadows with their servants. They grabbed Samson and forced him to his knees, laughing and taunting him, saying, "Call on your impotent God now, strong man brought low. You are no more than a mere mortal betrayed by your own lusts."

Samson's dull eyes looked in dawning comprehension and disbelief in my direction. As one of the servants raised a knife and gouged out Samson's right eye, I saw a look of raw pain as he saw someone handing me a pouch filled with money.

He bellowed, "No-o-o-o," and then began to wail as his other eye was forcefully removed.

In that moment, I knew what his adversaries did not. The look of pain on Samson's face was not purely one of physical pain, but was mostly emotional torment. He had bared his heart to me and I had betrayed him. I knew the look and sound of betrayal well. I had been betrayed often by my father. The searing emotional pain echoed in my heart as the child Delilah identified with the anguish in the single word uttered by Samson.

As I held the bag of money in limp hands, I watched the Lords chain Samson. Head hanging and shoulders stooped, he shuffled by me and out of my courtyard. As I watched his parting back, I did not feel the exultation I expected. I felt my heart began to break as the only man whom I had ever truly loved was taken away. I held my secure future in my hands, but at what cost.