University of Virginia Library

Scene 4th

Plato, Phedon, Crito, Gaoler
Plato
Her soul is deeply wounded—may the gods
Prosper our righteous scheme, and give her peace.

Crito
We must succeed; he cannot long withstand
Our earnest prayers and tears; do you, my friends
Be ready to admit us; when escap'd
From out the loathsome prison, I'll convey him,
Ere dawn beams forth, beyond the reach of malice.
A gen'rous band of youths, who mourn his fate,
Await our coming at the gate, that leads
To Thebes; They'll there receive the sage with transport,
And safe conduct him to the destin'd place
Of his concealment.

Gaoler
Hence an hour exact,
The prison-doors are open—you be there,
And I'll attend you to him.

Plato
You've our thanks
But that's but poor; you'll have the thanks of Athens.
Believe me, when their present madness leaves them,
And they reflect th'injustice of their conduct
To you illustrious prisoner, much 'twill please them
He hath escap'd their sentence; they will then
Heap with caresses, with assur'd applause,
All that have bravely ventur'd for his safety.

Gaoler
That as they list; the goodness of the deed
Weighs more than me, than e'en a world's applause.