 | The Parricide : Or, Innocence in Distress |  |
SCENE V.
Castorsolus.
So resolute!—Will nothing move thee then!
And must I fall the Victim of your Fury?—
What she accus'd me of indeed was true:
My Father threaten'd, for a youthful Folly,
To rob me of my Right: 'Twas Self-defence
That drove me to a Sage, whose Art supply'd
A deadly Drop, which with his Drink I mingled,
And well it wrought a Cure of all my Fears:
By soft degrees it foil'd the Strength of Nature,
And work'd too quiet to provoke Distrust.
Then shall that Heart, or this performing Hand,
Which dealt a Father's and a Brother's Fate,
Now fail me, when my Safety is at stake?—
No Call, no Tye my Progress must oppose,
I know no Kindred where it marks me Foes.
| The Parricide : Or, Innocence in Distress | |