 | The Poetic Writings of Thomas Cradock, 1718-1770 |  |
204
Scene 3rd
Apame
Thou fly'st me; ah! infatuated brother!
Thy sly insinuating Anitus
And the fool Lycon lead thee on to ruin.
Big with high notions of thy own desert,
Thy boasted eloquence, thy cry'd-up wisdom,
And proudly swol[le]n with their pernicious praise,
Fondly thou think'st to bear down all before thee,
To manage Athens, as thy own vain will
Suggests, and trample e'en beneath thy feet
All that oppose thee in thy windy schemes.
Thy sly insinuating Anitus
And the fool Lycon lead thee on to ruin.
Big with high notions of thy own desert,
Thy boasted eloquence, thy cry'd-up wisdom,
And proudly swol[le]n with their pernicious praise,
Fondly thou think'st to bear down all before thee,
To manage Athens, as thy own vain will
Suggests, and trample e'en beneath thy feet
All that oppose thee in thy windy schemes.
205
'Cause thou art angry, and yet know'st not why.
The venerable Socrates must bleed;
That first of men, who mates a god in wisdom,
Sent surely as a blessing from above,
To teach sublimest truths, to rear the soul
'Bove earthly views, and form her, to embrace
Joys more than mortal, bright, etherial, pure
And yet this excellent, this peerless sage
Must fall the sacrifice of villain malice,
Of wicked men who hate him for his virtues.
The venerable Socrates must bleed;
That first of men, who mates a god in wisdom,
Sent surely as a blessing from above,
To teach sublimest truths, to rear the soul
'Bove earthly views, and form her, to embrace
Joys more than mortal, bright, etherial, pure
And yet this excellent, this peerless sage
Must fall the sacrifice of villain malice,
Of wicked men who hate him for his virtues.
Meanwhile, what sorrows swell my anguish'd bosome,
Rent 'twixt distressful passion and the tie
That binds me to my brother. Love for Phedon,
For Phedon, worthiest of the youths of Athens,
Whose truth wou'd shame the constancy of swains;
Phedon, adorned with ev'ry mainly grace,
That cou'd engage a virgin's tender heart,
Fills all my soul, and makes it his entire.
Alass! Dear, gen'rous youth! What boots the love,
The faithful fondness of thy charm'd Apame,
While still her brother with relentless hate,
Thwarts all the schemes thou form'st to save thy friend,
And aims the ruin of thy dear instructor,
The reverend sage thou lov'st to call thy father?
The dire result of this I well forebode,
And e'en anticipate that weight of woe,
That follows close his obstinate pursuit.
Rent 'twixt distressful passion and the tie
That binds me to my brother. Love for Phedon,
For Phedon, worthiest of the youths of Athens,
Whose truth wou'd shame the constancy of swains;
Phedon, adorned with ev'ry mainly grace,
That cou'd engage a virgin's tender heart,
Fills all my soul, and makes it his entire.
Alass! Dear, gen'rous youth! What boots the love,
The faithful fondness of thy charm'd Apame,
While still her brother with relentless hate,
Thwarts all the schemes thou form'st to save thy friend,
And aims the ruin of thy dear instructor,
The reverend sage thou lov'st to call thy father?
The dire result of this I well forebode,
And e'en anticipate that weight of woe,
That follows close his obstinate pursuit.
| The Poetic Writings of Thomas Cradock, 1718-1770 | |