 | The Poetic Writings of Thomas Cradock, 1718-1770 |  |
230
Scene the 6th
MelitusGods! how she hath unman'd me! She has drawn
A shocking pourtrait—say, shou'd it prove real?
Why, be it so;—the man, that dares a guilt,
Must have a soul like mine, which braves the gods
To thwart it's purpose.—Socrates, I hate thee;
And thou shalt pay me ample retribution.
My friends?—I thank them; they are come in time,
To firm me 'gainst the horrors she hath rais'd.
| The Poetic Writings of Thomas Cradock, 1718-1770 | |