University of Virginia Library

[Scene 2d]

[Melitus, Anitus]
[Melitus]
The heavenly powers no doubt entrust their secre[t]
With that vain wretch, who dared defy their godhead,
And slight their altars.

Anitus
Thus the bold Lysistratus
Won on the people by a like pretence;
He too had his Minerva to protect him,
To aid his counsels, and support his cause.
High on the shining car with him she rode;
And the gull'd commons, struck with stupid wonder,
Gaz'd on the feign'd divinity, till they
Lost their dear liberty, and hug[g]'d the chain
Of a foul tirant—Doubt not, Socrates
Hath the same view; and if the worthy Melitus,
With others that are wakeful for the state,
Use not the noble talents heaven has given them,
Their pow'rs of speech, their energy of sense,
In firm defiance 'gainst his guileful schemes,
And timely ward the fatal blow he aims,
What can ensue but slavery and ruin?

Melitus
Such slavery and such ruin as slate
Gall'd [illeg.] that villain traitor, Critias.
He lorded nobly o'er his fellow-citizens,
To death devoted ev'ry man of virtue,
And was indeed a tirant—such the ruin
The haughty son of Clinias had essay'd,
(Whose vile contemptuous usage of the god
That guards, benign, our doors still strikes our souls
With chilling terrors) had not Athens fear'd
Th'impending peril—These thy pupils, Socrates!
These are the youths that fondly listen'd to thee;
These had'st thou taught in all the secret arts
Of thy philosophy; conspicuous proofs
Of thy attachment to the publick weal!

Anitus
What wait we then? Why waste we still the hours
In vain complaint? And since our patriot hearts
Burn for the injuries our state hath suffer'd,
Why don't we rather haste to execute
What nobly we've resolv'd—th'applauded deeds
Of all the heroes that our Athens boasts,
However great, are poor, compar'd with this.
T'assert the dread divinities that guard us,
To shield their shrines, to vindicate their temples;
To free our youth from impious fallacies,
From vain illusions and destructive tenets;
Our freedom to establish on a base
That will be solid, these are godlike toils,
And, if we fall, our fate will yet be glorious,
Worthy the sons of Athens!

Melitus
And I'll dare it,
Whatever perils face me in the conflict.
But there's no peril—be we staunch and honest,
And all his subtleties and nice evasions
Can's stem the torrent that comes pouring on him.
My sister! hah!—I know her simple businesses—
Retire we for the present—Well-inform'd
Of our design, and stupidly enthral'd
In love's fond bondage, her romantick head
Thinks high of Socrates, and much she labours
To thawart my soul in her confirm'd resolves.
In vain! The cause is heav'n's, and I'll be steady.
I dearly love her, and she cou'd not ask
A second favor that I shou'd deny her.