 | Demophoon |  |
SCENE II.
Timanthesalone.
Why should we covet life? What are its charms,
For all degrees are wretched? Every state
Partakes of misery. In infancy
We tremble at a frown: in ripening youth
We are made the sport of Fortune and of Love:
In age we groan beneath the weight of years:
Now we are tormented with the thirst of gain,
And now the fear of loss: eternal war
The wicked with themselves maintain; the just
With fraud and envy. All our schemes are shadows,
Vain and illusive as a sick man's dream!
And when we but begin at last to know
Our life's whole folly, death cuts short the scene:
O then let death at once—
| Demophoon | |