PLATO. Then, maiden, do they instantly remember, That they from countless, limitless ages of ages, They instantly rejoin-their sympathies EUPHROSYNE. A darling metaphysical romance, Upon my word-but do you not believe Twould make this intellectual dream more precious, As other lovers do? PLATO. No, my Euphrosyne, "Twould only spoil this our celestial one. Of vulgar men call marriage. Nay, more than a sister; Next to my Xenophon, whose life is due To the bravery of Socrates, I love Thee, my Euphrosyne, best. Hast heard the news? To bow our heads beneath the flowery yoke Of gentle Hymen. EUPHROSYNE. What! go and get married! CHLOE. You transcendental creature. You must be You are too wild, and much too saucy, Chloe; CHLOE. Ah, Euphrosyne, Passion asleep, yet dreaming. When it wakes, ACT V. SCENE I.-The Gymnastic Games. Enter EURIPIDES, PHEDON, HERALD, and several Gymnasiasts. EURIPIDES. Who wins?-By the faith of a poet, I will write An ode upon the winner. But contend as brethren, In right good humour-no ill blood, I pray you. PHÆDON. I love these games-and now especially, When peace revisits Athens, like a goddess Smiling away war's horrors. Now, dear Attica Like heavenly morning on a night of storms. EURIPIDES. By Phœbus! he too grows poetical: I tremble for my chaplet. PHÆDON. As the Sun Might tremble at his faintest satellite That drinks his lustre. Come, my gallant boxers, HERALD. A ring-a ring!-the chaplet for the winner. (The Gymnasiasts box with the cestus till one defeats the other.) EURIPIDES. Well fought-Great Mars himself, the invulnerable, PHÆDON. Would I'd another prize For the vanquished; he deserved it ;-come, rise up; HERALD. A ring, a ring!They'll show you gallant sport; With a fiery energy-every thing tells There's not an atom of effeminate softness In forms like these. They oiled and shaved each other Like swine, and strive, out of pure love, to throttle Smites him upon the shoulder, as to say, (Wrestlers contend, exhibiting a great variety of skill, till one falls, defeated.) SCENE II. SOCRATES (alone). It is the hour when from the Olympic heaven Jove scatters dreams. Athens lies hushed in slumber : Her eager citizens are still as the dead: Her busy, prattling, jangling populace Have quite forgot their brawls-and I am left Sole watcher, with the stars for company. The stars-Oh, ye mysterious ones, what are ye? Can ye not, in your silent harmonies, Which, through the resonant depths of conscience ring, Deities visible, inviolable All lightened and all lightning-spirits eternal Girt round by clouds !-Resplendent science soars Where extremes meet and lose themselves. And yet Of the Stars--for souls they have-souls that emit O hard condition of the sons of men, That we behold all things inversed !—It is The curse of our position-for gross sense, Antagonizing spiritual truth, Deens great things small, and small things great. What way To God?-Ay, we must first identify Enter GENIUS. Ah! the vision comes again. Thus let me kneel to thee, immaculate shape Of divine æther! wherefore dost thou now Burst on my trance, and make the solemn midnight A thing of wild astonishment ?-Speak to me. GENIUS. Peace be to Socrates. Thus let me wave Wonderful Presence !—even now I feel The young Aurora, and fierce passions leave me GENIUS. I come to show thee that which shall befall thee. I am all ear. SOCRATES. GENIUS. The Providence of Heaven Hath given me this commission unto thee; To thee becomes a blessing, which to others SOCRATES. It is the destiny I warned thee of, Is now thy traitor-That apostate sways SOCRATES. Great Jupiter, I thank thee; 'Tis even so that I would wish to die. That prompts ambition. We are frustrated In the best-while to the worst all things conspire. Thou dost not fear to die? GENIUS. SOCRATES. Heaven bear me witness |