University of Virginia Library

Scene 6th

Socrates, Plato, Phedon, Crito and others
Socrates
Socrates
Welcome, my faithful pupils; you are come
To bid your Socrates a last farewel.
A last? No sure; we yet shall meet again.
I've been debating with myself, my friends,
And find upon the upshot, I have gain'd.
Tis true, I might have liv'd a little longer;
But oh! that little longer I had liv'd
Had rob'd me just so much of happiness.

Plato
Thou peerless man! how I adore thy virtues!
Now on the confines of eternity,
Thy looks, thy words, thy gestures are so calm,
So full of inward peace, my soul admires thee.

Socrates
For what, my Plato? He that acts aright,
At such a time as this is ever easy.
It may be hard to know we act aright;
Yet, if no conscious thought within disturb us,
No nauseous bitter mingles with our sweet,
But all is peace and pleasantness, sure then
Death's a mere phantom, and must lose his terrors.

Phedon
Alass! so wretched is the state of man,
We know not what we must be; thou art right;
My soul assures me, Socrates is right;
And yet—forgive me—still my darken'd mind
[Is] lost in her surmises, and she knows not
How to unriddle these thy causeless sufferings.

Socrates
Phedon, I can't inform thee more than what
I know myself; I've yet no full conception
Of how it will be; but my soul forebodes
Joy 'bove expression: Heaven for noblest ends
May yet delay to great enquiring man
The knowledge of his future fate above.

Crito
That's our distress; we've view'd the constant tenor
Of thy applauded life; and to reflect
The vile indignities thou hast endur'd
The base, insidious villain schemes against thee,
The woful death that thou must die today,
Fills us with vain incertitude; we wonder—
What mean the powers above, that they shou'd yield thee
Thus to thy impious foes.

Socrates
You quite surprise me,
How, Crito, don't I tell thee I'm ascertain'd
Of being something nobler than I am
While I am here—but what—that lies beyond
The ken of present knowledge—God is good,
Is gracious ever—In some future time,
When man's prepar'd to hear the happy tidings,
Some blessed sage will rise t'instruct him, whither
He goes from hence, to teach the certain road
He must pursue to reach his destin'd goal.
Meanwhile tis but our duty to await
That glorious period; we not know it yet;
[But] if I bode aright, our after-race
Won't be bewilder'd in a fruitless search
Of this important question.

Plato
Be it so!
Be heaven thus gracious to his creature, man;
And let all those, who've learnt from thee the rule,
I had almost said, th'unerring rule to live,
Await that welcome instant—Ah! my Socrates,
Xantippe comes; she comes to bid forever
Adieu to her dear Socrates; look on her
With eyes of tenderness; she's deeply wounded,
And merits all the pity thou canst shew her.

Socrates
She is my best-belov'd; heaven only knows
The true esteem that warms my heart for her.