The Poetic Writings of Thomas Cradock, 1718-1770 | ||
275
Scene 7th
Socrates, Xantippe, Plato, Phedon, Crito & c.Xantippe
runs to him and embraces him
O Socrates!
Socrates
My dear, my best Xantippe.
Xantippe
And art thou going? have thy foes prevail'd
And must I lose thee? On this fatal day
Fore'er lose thee? O my bleeding heart!
My Socrates, do we now part for ever?
Socrates
So heaven ordains; and tho my soul reflects
[OMITTED]fondness all the happy hours
And yet—
[end of manuscript]
The Poetic Writings of Thomas Cradock, 1718-1770 | ||