I know not, O Athenians, how far you have been influenced by my
accusers: for my part, in listening to them I almost forgot myself, so
plausible were their arguments: however, so to speak, they have said
nothing true. But of the many falsehoods which they uttered I wondered
at one of them especially, that in which they said that you ought to be
on your guard lest you should be deceived by me, as being eloquent in
speech. For that they are not ashamed of being forthwith convicted by me
in fact, when I shall shew that I am not by any means eloquent, this
seemed to me the most shameless thing in them, unless indeed they call
him eloquent who speaks the truth. For, if they mean this, then I would
allow that I am an orator, but not after their fashion: for they, as I
affirm, have said nothing true; but from me you shall hear the whole
truth. Not indeed, Athenians, arguments highly wrought, as theirs were,
with choice phrases and expressions, nor adorned, but you shall hear a
speech uttered without premeditation, in such words as first present
themselves. For I am confident that what I say will be just, and let
none of you expect otherwise: for surely it would not become my time of
life to come before you like a youth with a got up speech. Above all
things therefore I beg and implore this of you, O Athenians, if you hear
me defending myself in the same language as that in which I am
accustomed to speak both in the forum at the counters, where many of you
have heard me, and elsewhere, not to be surprised or disturbed on this
account. For the case is this: I now for the first time come before a
court of justice, though more than seventy years old; I am therefore
utterly a stranger to the language here. As, then, if I were really a
stranger, you would have pardoned me if I spoke in the language and the
manner in which I had been educated, so now I ask this of you as an act
of justice, as it appears to me, to disregard the manner of my speech,
for perhaps it may be somewhat worse, and perhaps better, and to
consider this only, and to give your attention to this, whether I speak
what is just or not; for this is the virtue of a judge, but of an orator
to speak the truth.
2. First then, O Athenians, I am right in defending myself against the
first false accusations alleged against me, and my first accusers, and
then against the latest accusations, and the latest accusers. For many
have been accusers of me to you, and for many years, who have asserted
nothing true, of whom I am more afraid than of Anytus and his party,
although they too are formidable; but those are still more formidable,
Athenians, who laying hold of many of you from childhood, have persuaded
you, and accused me of what is not true:—“that there is one Socrates, a
wise man, who occupies himself about celestial matters, and has explored
every thing under the earth, and makes the worse appear the better
reason.” Those, O Athenians, who have spread abroad this report are my
formidable accusers: for they who hear them think that such as search
into these things do not believe that there are gods. In the next place,
these accusers are numerous, and have accused me now for a long time;
moreover they said these things to you at that time of life in which you
were most credulous, when you were boys and some of you youths, and they
accused me altogether in my absence, when there was no one to defend me.
But the most unreasonable thing of all is, that it is not possible to
learn and mention their names, except that one of them happens to be a
comic poet[1]. Such, however, as influenced by envy and calumny have
persuaded you, and those who, being themselves persuaded, have persuaded
others, all these are most difficult to deal with; for it is not
possible to bring any of them forward here, nor to confute any; but it
is altogether necessary, to fight as it were with a shadow, in making my
defence, and to convict when there is no one to answer. Consider,
therefore, as I have said, that my accusers are twofold, some who have
lately accused me, and others long since, whom I have made mention of;
and believe that I ought to defend myself against these first; for you
heard them accusing me first, and much more than these last.
-----
Footnote 1:
Aristophanes.
-----
Well. I must make my defence then, O Athenians, and endeavour in this so
short a space of time to remove from your minds the calumny which you
have long entertained. I wish, indeed, it might be so, if it were at all
better both for you and me, and that in making my defence I could effect
something more advantageous still: I think however that it will be
difficult, and I am not entirely ignorant what the difficulty is.
Nevertheless let this turn out as may be pleasing to God, I must obey
the law, and make my defence.
3. Let us then repeat from the beginning what the accusation is from
which the calumny against me has arisen, and relying on which Melitus
has preferred this indictment against me. Well. What then do they who
charge me say in their charge? For it is necessary to read their
deposition as of public accusers. “Socrates acts wickedly, and is
criminally curious in searching into things under the earth, and in the
heavens, and in making the worse appear the better cause, and in
teaching these same things to others.” Such is the accusation: for such
things you have yourselves seen in the comedy of Aristophanes, one
Socrates there carried about, saying that he walks in the air, and
acting many other buffooneries, of which I understand nothing whatever.
Nor do I say this as disparaging such a science, if there be any one
skilled in such things, only let me not be prosecuted by Melitus on a
charge of this kind; but I say it, O Athenians, because I have nothing
to do with such matters. And I call upon most of you as witnesses of
this, and require you to inform and tell each other, as many of you as
have ever heard me conversing; and there are many such among you.
Therefore tell each other, if any one of you has ever heard me
conversing little or much on such subjects. And from this you will know
that other things also, which the multitude assert of me, are of a
similar nature.
4. However not one of these things is true; nor, if you have heard from
any one that I attempt to teach men, and require payment, is this true.
Though this indeed appears to me to be an honourable thing, if one
should be able to instruct men, like Gorgias the Leontine, Prodicus the
Cean, and Hippias the Elean. For each of these, O Athenians, is able, by
going through the several cities, to persuade the young men, who can
attach themselves gratuitously to such of their own fellow citizens as
they please, to abandon their fellow citizens and associate with them,
giving them money and thanks besides. There is also another wise man
here, a Parian, who I hear is staying in the city. For I happened to
visit a person who spends more money on the sophists than all others
together, I mean Callias, son of Hipponicus. I therefore asked him, for
he has two sons, “Callias,” I said, “if your two sons were colts or
calves, we should have had to choose a master for them and hire a person
who would make them excel in such qualities as belong to their nature:
and he would have been a groom or an agricultural labourer. But now,
since your sons are men, what master do you intend to choose for them?
Who is there skilled in the qualities that become a man and a citizen?
For I suppose you must have considered this, since you have sons. Is
there any one,” I said, “or not?” “Certainly,” he answered. “Who is he?”
said I, “and whence does he come? and on what terms does he teach?” He
replied, “Evenus the Parian, Socrates, for five minæ.” And I deemed
Evenus happy, if he really possesses this art, and teaches so admirably.
And I too should think highly of myself and be very proud, if I
possessed this knowledge; but I possess it not, O Athenians.
5. Perhaps, one of you may now object: “But, Socrates, what have you
done then? Whence have these calumnies against you arisen? For surely if
you had not busied yourself more than others, such a report and story
would never have got abroad, unless you had done something different
from what most men do. Tell us, therefore, what it is, that we may not
pass a hasty judgment on you.” He who speaks thus appears to me to speak
justly, and I will endeavour to shew you what it is that has occasioned
me this character and imputation. Listen then: to some of you perhaps I
shall appear to jest, yet be assured that I shall tell you the whole
truth. For I, O Athenians, have acquired this character through nothing
else than a certain wisdom. Of what kind, then, is this wisdom? Perhaps
it is merely human wisdom. For in this, in truth I appear to be wise.
They probably, whom I just now mentioned, possessed a wisdom more than
human, otherwise I know not what to say about it; for I am not
acquainted with it, and whosoever says I am, speaks falsely and for the
purpose of calumniating me. But, O Athenians, do not cry out against me,
even though I should seem to you to speak somewhat arrogantly. For the
account which I am going to give you, is not my own, but I shall refer
to an authority whom you will deem worthy of credit. For I shall adduce
to you the god at Delphi as a witness of my wisdom, if I have any, and
of what it is. You doubtless know Chærepho: he was my associate from
youth, and the associate of most of you; he accompanied you in your late
exile and returned with you. You know, then, what kind of a man Chærepho
was, how earnest in whatever he undertook. Having once gone to Delphi,
he ventured to make the following inquiry of the oracle, (and, as I
said, O Athenians, do not cry out,) for he asked if there was any one
wiser than me. The Pythian thereupon answered that there was not one
wiser: and of this, his brother here will give you proofs, since he
himself is dead.
6. Consider then why I mention these things: it is because I am going to
shew you whence the calumny against me arose. For when I heard this, I
reasoned thus with myself, What does the god mean? What enigma is this?
For I am not conscious to myself that I am wise, either much or little.
What then does he mean by saying that I am the wisest? For assuredly he
does not speak falsely: that he cannot do. And for a long time, I was in
doubt what he meant; afterwards with considerable difficulty I had
recourse to the following method of searching out his meaning. I went to
one of those who have the character of being wise, thinking that there,
if any where, I should confute the oracle, and shew in answer to the
response that This man is wiser than I, though you affirmed that I was
the wisest. Having then examined this man, (for there is no occasion to
mention his name, he was however one of our great politicians, in
examining whom I felt as I proceed to describe, O Athenians,) having
fallen into conversation with him, this man appeared to me to be wise in
the opinion of most other men, and especially in his own opinion, though
in fact he was not so. I thereupon endeavoured to shew him that he
fancied himself to be wise, but really was not. Hence I became odious
both to him, and to many others who were present. When I left him, I
reasoned thus with myself, I am wiser than this man, for neither of us
appear to know any thing great and good: but he fancies he knows
something, although he knows nothing, whereas I, as I do not know any
thing, so I do not fancy I do. In this trifling particular, then, I
appear to be wiser than him, because I do not fancy I know what I do not
know. After that I went to another who was thought to be wiser than the
former, and formed the very same opinion. Hence I became odious to him
and to many others.
7. After this I went to others in turn, perceiving indeed and grieving
and alarmed that I was making myself odious; however it appeared
necessary to regard the oracle of the god as of the greatest moment, and
that in order to discover its meaning, I must go to all who had the
reputation of possessing any knowledge. And by the dog, O Athenians, for
I must tell you the truth, I came to some such conclusion as this: those
who bore the highest reputation appeared to me to be most deficient, in
my researches in obedience to the god, and others who were considered
inferior, more nearly approaching to the possession of understanding.
But I must relate to you my wandering, and the labours which I
underwent, in order that the oracle might prove incontrovertible. For
after the politicians I went to the poets as well the tragic as the
dithyrambic and others, expecting that here I should in very fact find
myself more ignorant than them. Taking up, therefore, some of their
poems, which appeared to me most elaborately finished, I questioned them
as to their meaning, that at the same time I might learn something from
them. I am ashamed, O Athenians, to tell you the truth; however it must
be told. For, in a word, almost all who were present could have given a
better account of them than those by whom they had been composed. I soon
discovered this, therefore, with regard to the poets, that they do not
effect their object by wisdom, but by a certain natural inspiration and
under the influence of enthusiasm like prophets and seers; for these
also say many fine things, but they understand nothing that they say.
The poets appeared to me to be affected in a similar manner: and at the
same time I perceived that they considered themselves, on account of
their poetry, to be the wisest of men in other things, in which they
were not. I left them, therefore, under the persuasion that I was
superior to them, in the same way that I was to the politicians.
8. At last, therefore, I went to the artizans. For I was conscious to
myself that I knew scarcely any thing, but I was sure that I should find
them possessed of much beautiful knowledge. And in this I was not
deceived; for they knew things which I did not, and in this respect they
were wiser than me. But, O Athenians, even the best workmen appeared to
me to have fallen into the same error as the poets: for each, because he
excelled in the practice of his art, thought that he was very wise in
other most important matters, and this mistake of theirs obscured the
wisdom that they really possessed. I therefore asked myself in behalf of
the oracle, whether I should prefer to continue as I am, possessing none
either of their wisdom or their ignorance, or to have both as they have.
I answered, therefore, to myself and to the oracle, that it was better
for me to continue as I am.
9. From this investigation, then, O Athenians, many enmities have arisen
against me, and those the most grievous and severe, so that many
calumnies have sprung from them and amongst them this appellation of
being wise. For those who are from time to time present think that I am
wise in those things, with respect to which I expose the ignorance of
others. The god however, O Athenians, appears to be really wise, and to
mean this by his oracle, that human wisdom is worth little or nothing;
and it is clear that he did not say this of Socrates, but made use of my
name, putting me forward as an example, as if he had said, that man is
the wisest among you, who, like Socrates, knows that he is in reality
worth nothing with respect to wisdom. Still therefore I go about and
search and inquire into these things, in obedience to the god, both
among citizens and strangers, if I think any one of them is wise; and
when he appears to me not to be so, I take the part of the god, and shew
that he is not wise. And in consequence of this occupation I have no
leisure to attend in any considerable degree to the affairs of the state
or my own; but I am in the greatest poverty through my devotion to the
service of the god.
10. In addition to this, young men, who have much leisure and belong to
the wealthiest families, following me of their own accord, take great
delight in hearing men put to the test, and often imitate me, and
themselves attempt to put others to the test: and then, I think, they
find a great abundance of men who fancy they know something, although
they know little or nothing. Hence those who are put to the test by them
are angry with me, and not with them, and say that “there is one
Socrates, a most pestilent fellow, who corrupts the youth.” And when any
one asks them by doing or teaching what, they have nothing to say, for
they do not know: but that they may not seem to be at a loss, they say
such things as are ready at hand against all philosophers; “that he
searches into things in heaven and things under the earth, that he does
not believe there are gods, and that he makes the worse appear the
better reason.” For they would not, I think, be willing to tell the
truth, that they have been detected in pretending to possess knowledge,
whereas they know nothing. Therefore, I think, being ambitious and
vehement and numerous, and speaking systematically and persuasively
about me, they have filled your ears, for a long time and diligently
calumniating me. From amongst these, Melitus, Anytus, and Lycon, have
attacked me; Melitus being angry on account of the poets, Anytus on
account of the artizans and politicians, and Lycon on account of the
rhetoricians. So that as I said in the beginning, I should wonder if I
were able in so short a time to remove from your minds a calumny that
has prevailed so long. This, O Athenians, is the truth: and I speak it
without concealing or disguising any thing from you, much or little;
though I very well know that by so doing I shall expose myself to odium.
This however is a proof that I speak the truth, and that this is the
nature of the calumny against me, and that these are its causes. And if
you will investigate the matter, either now or hereafter, you will find
it to be so.
11. With respect then to the charges which my first accusers have
alleged against me, let this be a sufficient apology to you. To Melitus,
that good and patriotic man, as he says, and to my later accusers, I
will next endeavour to give an answer; and here again, as there are
different accusers let us take up their deposition. It is pretty much as
follows: “Socrates,” it says, “acts unjustly in corrupting the youth,
and in not believing in those gods in whom the city believes, but in
other strange divinities.” Such is the accusation; let us examine each
particular of it. It says that I act unjustly in corrupting the youth.
But I, O Athenians, say that Melitus acts unjustly, because he jests on
serious subjects, rashly putting men upon trial, under pretence of being
zealous and solicitous about things in which he never at any time took
any concern. But that this is the case I will endeavour to prove to you.
12. Come then, Melitus, tell me; do you not consider it of the greatest
importance that the youth should be made as virtuous as possible?
_Mel._ I do.
_Socr._ Well now, tell the judges who it is that makes them better, for
it is evident that you know, since it concerns you so much: for, having
detected me in corrupting them, as you say, you have cited me here and
accused me; come then, say, and inform the judges who it is that makes
them better. Do you see, Melitus, that you are silent, and have nothing
to say? But does it not appear to you to be disgraceful and a sufficient
proof of what I say, that you never took any concern about the matter?
But tell me, friend, who makes them better?
_Mel._ The laws.
_Socr._ I do not ask this, most excellent sir, but what man, who surely
must first know this very thing, the laws?
_Mel._ These, Socrates, the judges.
_Socr._ How say you, Melitus? Are these able to instruct the youth, and
make them better?
_Mel._ Certainly.
_Socr._ Whether all, or some of them, and others not?
_Mel._ All.
_Socr._ You say well, by Juno, and have found a great abundance of those
that confer benefit. But what further? Can these hearers make them
better, or not?
_Mel._ They too can.
_Socr._ And what of the senators?
_Mel._ The senators also.
_Socr._ But, Melitus, do those who attend the public assemblies corrupt
the younger men? or do they all make them better?
_Mel._ They too.
_Socr._ All the Athenians therefore, as it seems, make them honourable
and good, except me, but I alone corrupt them. Do you say so?
_Mel._ I do assert this very thing.
_Socr._ You charge me with great ill-fortune. But answer me: does it
appear to you to be the same with respect to horses? do all men make
them better, and is there only some one that spoils them? or does quite
the contrary of this take place? is there some one person who can make
them better, or very few, that is the trainers? but if the generality of
men should meddle with and make use of horses, do they spoil them? Is
not this the case, Melitus, both with respect to horses and all other
animals? It certainly is so, whether you and Anytus deny it or not. For
it would be a great good-fortune for the youth if only one person
corrupted, and the rest benefited them. However, Melitus, you have
sufficiently shewn that you never bestowed any care upon youth; and you
clearly evince your own negligence, in that you have never paid any
attention to the things with respect to which you accuse me.
13. Tell us further, Melitus, in the name of Jupiter, whether is it
better to dwell with good or bad citizens? Answer, my friend: for I ask
you nothing difficult. Do not the bad work some evil to those that are
continually near them, but the good some good?
_Mel._ Certainly.
_Socr._ Is there any one that wishes to be injured rather than benefited
by his associates? Answer, good man: for the law requires you to answer.
Is there any one who wishes to be injured?
_Mel._ No, surely.
_Socr._ Come then, whether do you accuse me here, as one that corrupts
the youth, and makes them more depraved, designedly or undesignedly?
_Mel._ Designedly, I say.
_Socr._ What then, Melitus, are you at your time of life so much wiser
than me at my time of life, as to know that the evil are always working
some evil to those that are most near to them, and the good some good;
but I have arrived at such a pitch of ignorance as not to know, that if
I make any one of my associates depraved, I shall be in danger of
receiving some evil from him, and yet I designedly bring about this so
great evil, as you say? In this I cannot believe you, Melitus, nor do I
think would any other man in the world: but either I do not corrupt the
youth, or if I do corrupt them, I do it undesignedly: so that in both
cases you speak falsely. But if I corrupt them undesignedly, for such
involuntary offences it is not usual to accuse one here, but to take one
apart and teach and admonish one. For it is evident that if I am taught,
I shall cease doing what I do undesignedly. But you shunned me, and were
not willing to associate with and instruct me, but you accuse me here,
where it is usual to accuse those who need punishment, and not
instruction.
14. Thus, then, O Athenians, this now is clear that I have said, that
Melitus never paid any attention to these matters, much or little.
However tell us, Melitus, how you say I corrupt the youth? Is it not
evidently, according to the indictment which you have preferred, by
teaching them not to believe in the gods in whom the city believes, but
in other strange deities? Do you not say that by teaching these things,
I corrupt the youth?
_Mel._ Certainly I do say so.
_Socr._ By those very gods, therefore, Melitus, of whom the discussion
now is, speak still more clearly both to me and to these men. For I
cannot understand whether you say that I teach them to believe that
there are certain gods, (and in that case I do believe that there are
gods, and am not altogether an atheist, nor in this respect to blame,)
not however those which the city believes in, but others, and this it is
that you accuse me of, that I introduce others; or do you say outright
that I do not myself believe that there are gods, and that I teach
others the same?
_Mel._ I say this, that you do not believe in any gods at all.
_Socr._ O wonderful Melitus, how come you to say this? Do I not then
like the rest of mankind, believe that the sun and moon are gods?
_Mel._ No, by Jupiter, O judges: for he says that the sun is a stone,
and the moon an earth.
_Socr._ You fancy that you are accusing Anaxagoras, my dear Melitus, and
thus you put a slight on these men, and suppose them to be so
illiterate, as not to know that the books of Anaxagoras of Clazomene are
full of such assertions. And the young, moreover, learn these things
from me, which they might purchase for a drachma, at most, in the
orchestra, and so ridicule Socrates, if he pretended they were his own,
especially since they are so absurd? I ask then, by Jupiter, do I appear
to you to believe that there is no god?
_Mel._ No, by Jupiter, none whatever.
_Socr._ You say what is incredible, Melitus, and that, as appears to me,
even to yourself. For this man, O Athenians, appears to me to be very
insolent and intemperate, and to have preferred this indictment through
downright insolence, intemperance and wantonness. For he seems, as it
were, to have composed an enigma for the purpose of making an
experiment. Whether will Socrates the wise know that I am jesting, and
contradict myself, or shall I deceive him and all who hear me? For in my
opinion he clearly contradicts himself in the indictment, as if he
should say, Socrates is guilty of wrong in not believing that there are
gods, and in believing that there are gods. And this, surely, is the act
of one who is trifling.
5. Consider with me now, Athenians, in what respect he appears to me to
say so. And do you, Melitus, answer me; and do ye, as I besought you at
the outset, remember not to make an uproar if I speak after my usual
manner.
Is there any man, Melitus, who believes that there are human affairs,
but does not believe that there are men? Let him answer, judges, and not
make so much noise. Is there any one who does not believe that there are
horses, but that there are things pertaining to horses? or who does not
believe that there are pipers, but that there are things pertaining to
pipes? There is not, O best of men: for since you are not willing to
answer, I say it to you and to all here present. But answer to this at
least: is there any one who believes that there are things relating to
demons, but does not believe that there are demons?
_Mel._ There is not.
_Socr._ How obliging you are in having hardly answered, though compelled
by these judges. You assert then that I do believe and teach things
relating to demons, whether they be new or old; therefore, according to
your admission, I do believe in things relating to demons, and this you
have sworn in the bill of indictment. If then I believe in things
relating to demons, there is surely an absolute necessity that I should
believe that there are demons. Is it not so? It is. For I suppose you to
assent, since you do not answer. But with respect to demons, do we not
allow that they are gods, or the children of gods? Do you admit this or
not?
_Mel._ Certainly.
_Socr._ Since then I allow that there are demons as you admit, if demons
are a kind of gods, this is the point in which I say you speak
enigmatically and divert yourself in saying that I do not allow there
are gods, and again that I do allow there are, since I allow that there
are demons? But if demons are the children of gods, spurious ones,
either from nymphs or any others, of whom they are reported to be, what
man can think that there are sons of gods, and yet that there are not
gods? For it would be just as absurd, as if any one should think that
there are mules the offspring of horses and asses, but should not think
there are horses and asses. However, Melitus, it cannot be otherwise
than that you have preferred this indictment for the purpose of trying
me, or because you were at a loss what real crime to allege against me:
for that you should persuade any man who has the smallest degree of
sense, that the same person can think that there are things relating to
demons and to gods, and yet that there are neither demons, nor gods, nor
heroes, is utterly impossible.
16. That I am not guilty then, O Athenians, according to the indictment
of Melitus, appears to me not to require a lengthened defence; but what
I have said is sufficient. And as to what I said at the beginning, that
there is a great enmity towards me among the multitude, be assured it is
true. And this it is which will condemn me, if I am condemned, not
Melitus, nor Anytus, but the calumny and envy of the multitude, which
have already condemned many others, and those good men, and will I think
condemn others also; for there is no danger that it will stop with me.
Perhaps, however, some one may say, “Are you not ashamed, Socrates, to
have pursued a study, from which you are now in danger of dying?” To
such a person I should answer with good reason, You do not say well,
friend, if you think that a man, who is even of the least value, ought
to take into the account the risk of life or death, and ought not to
consider that alone when he performs any action, whether he is acting
justly or unjustly, and the part of a good man or bad man. For according
to your reasoning, all those demi-gods that died at Troy would be vile
characters, as well all the rest as the son of Thetis, who so far
despised danger in comparison of submitting to disgrace, that when his
mother, who was a goddess, spoke to him, in his impatience to kill
Hector, something to this effect, as I think[2], “My son, if you revenge
the death of your friend Patroclus, and slay Hector, you will yourself
die, for,” she said, “death awaits you immediately after Hector.” But
he, on hearing this, despised death and danger, and dreading much more
to live as a coward, and not avenge his friends said; “May I die
immediately, when I have inflicted punishment on the guilty, that I may
not stay here an object of ridicule, by the curved ships, a burden to
the ground?” Do you think that he cared for death and danger? For thus
it is, O Athenians, in truth; wherever any one has posted himself,
either thinking it to be better, or has been posted by his chief, there,
as it appears to me, he ought to remain and meet danger, taking no
account either of death or any thing else in comparison with disgrace.
-----
Footnote 2:
Iliad, lib. xviii. ver. 94, &c.
-----
17. I then should be acting strangely, O Athenians, if, when the
generals whom you chose to command me assigned me my post at Potidæa, at
Amphipolis, and at Delium, I then remained where they posted me, like
any other person, and encountered the danger of death, but when the
deity as I thought and believed, assigned it as my duty to pass my life
in the study of philosophy, and in examining myself and others, I should
on that occasion, through fear of death or any thing else whatsoever,
desert my post. Strange indeed would it be, and then in truth any one
might justly bring me to trial, and accuse me of not believing in the
gods, from disobeying the oracle, fearing death, and thinking myself to
be wise when I am not. For to fear death, O Athenians, is nothing else
than to appear to be wise, without being so; for it is to appear to know
what one does not know. For no one knows but that death is the greatest
of all goods to man; but men fear it, as if they well knew that it is
the greatest of evils. And how is not this the most reprehensible
ignorance, to think that one knows what one does not know? But I, O
Athenians, in this perhaps differ from most men; and if I should say
that I am in any thing wiser than another, it would be in this, that not
having a competent knowledge of the things in Hades, I also think that I
have not such knowledge. But to act unjustly, and to disobey my
superior, whether God or man, I know is evil and base. I shall never,
therefore, fear or shun things which, for aught I know, may be good,
before evils which I know to be evils. So that even if you should now
dismiss me, not yielding to the instances of Anytus, who said that
either I should not[3] appear here at all, or that, if I did appear, it
was impossible not to put me to death, telling you that if I escaped,
your sons, studying what Socrates teaches, would all be utterly
corrupted; if you should address me thus, “Socrates, we shall not now
yield to Anytus, but dismiss you, on this condition however, that you no
longer persevere in your researches nor study philosophy, and if
hereafter you are detected in so doing, you shall die,”—if, as I said,
you should dismiss me on these terms, I should say to you: “O Athenians,
I honour and love you: but I shall obey God rather than you; and as long
as I breathe and am able, I shall not cease studying philosophy, and
exhorting you and warning any one of you I may happen to meet, saying as
I have been accustomed to do: ‘O best of men, seeing you are an
Athenian, of a city the most powerful and most renowned for wisdom and
strength, are you not ashamed of being careful for riches, how you may
acquire them in greatest abundance, and for glory and honour, but care
not nor take any thought for wisdom and truth, and for your soul, how it
may be made most perfect?’” And if any one of you should question my
assertion, and affirm that he does care for these things, I shall not at
once let him go, nor depart, but I shall question him, sift and prove
him. And if he should appear to me not to possess virtue, but to pretend
that he does, I shall reproach him for that he sets the least value on
things of the greatest worth, but the highest on things that are
worthless. Thus I shall act to all whom I meet, both young and old,
stranger and citizen, but rather to you my fellow citizens, because ye
are more nearly allied to me. For be well assured, this the deity
commands. And I think that no greater good has ever befallen you in the
city, than my zeal for the service of the god. For I go about doing
nothing else than persuading you, both young and old, to take no care
either for the body, or for riches, prior to or so much as for the soul,
how it may be made most perfect, telling you that virtue does not spring
from riches, but riches and all other human blessings, both private and
public, from virtue. If, then, by saying these things, I corrupt the
youth, these things must be mischievous; but if any one says that I
speak other things than these, he misleads you[4]. Therefore I must say,
O Athenians, either yield to Anytus or do not, either dismiss me or not,
since I shall not act otherwise, even though I must die many deaths.
-----
Footnote 3:
See the Crito, s. 5.
Footnote 4:
Οὐδὲν λέγει, literally “he says nothing:” on se trompe, ou l’on vous
impose, _Cousin_.
-----
18. Murmur not, O Athenians, but continue to attend to my request, not
to murmur at what I say, but to listen, for as I think, you will derive
benefit from listening. For I am going to say other things to you, at
which perhaps you will raise a clamour; but on no account do so. Be well
assured, then, if you put me to death, being such a man as I say I am,
you will not injure me more than yourselves. For neither will Melitus
nor Anytus harm me; nor have they the power: for I do not think that it
is possible for a better man to be injured by a worse. He may perhaps
have me condemned to death, or banished or deprived of civil rights; and
he or others may perhaps consider these as mighty evils: I however do
not consider them so, but that it is much more so to do what he is now
doing, to endeavour to put a man to death unjustly. Now, therefore, O
Athenians, I am far from making a defence on my own behalf, as any one
might think, but I do so on your behalf, lest by condemning me you
should offend at all with respect to the gift of the deity to you. For,
if you should put me to death, you will not easily find such another,
though it may be ridiculous to say so, altogether attached by the deity
to this city as to a powerful and generous horse, somewhat sluggish from
his size, and requiring to be roused by a gad-fly; so the deity appears
to have united me, being such a person as I am, to the city, that I may
rouse you, and persuade and reprove every one of you, nor ever cease
besetting you throughout the whole day. Such another man, O Athenians,
will not easily be found, therefore, if you will take my advice, you
will spare me. But you, perhaps, being irritated, like drowsy persons
who are roused from sleep, will strike me, and, yielding to Anytus, will
unthinkingly condemn me to death; and then you will pass the rest of
your life in sleep, unless the deity, caring for you, should send some
one else to you. But that I am a person who has been given by the deity
to this city, you may discern from hence; for it is not like the
ordinary conduct of men, that I should have neglected all my own affairs
and suffered my private interest to be neglected for so many years, and
that I should constantly attend to your concerns, addressing myself to
each of you separately, like a father, or elder brother, persuading you
to the pursuit of virtue. And if I had derived any profit from this
course, and had received pay for my exhortations, there would have been
some reason for my conduct; but now you see yourselves, that my
accusers, who have so shamelessly calumniated me in every thing else,
have not had the impudence to charge me with this, and to bring
witnesses to prove that I ever either exacted or demanded any reward.
And I think I produce a sufficient proof that I speak the truth,
_namely_, my poverty.
19. Perhaps, however, it may appear absurd, that I, going about, thus
advise you in private and make myself busy, but never venture to present
myself in public before your assemblies and give advice to the city. The
cause of this is that which you have often and in many places heard me
mention: because I am moved by a certain divine and spiritual influence,
which also Melitus, through mockery, has set out in the indictment. This
began with me from childhood, being a kind of voice which, when present,
always diverts me from what I am about to do, but never urges me on.
This it is which opposed my meddling in public politics; and it appears
to me to have opposed me very properly. For be well assured, O
Athenians, if I had long since attempted to intermeddle with politics, I
should have perished long ago, and should not have at all benefited you
or myself. And be not angry with me for speaking the truth. For it is
not possible that any man should be safe, who sincerely opposes either
you, or any other multitude, and who prevents many unjust and illegal
actions from being committed in a city; but it is necessary that he who
in earnest contends for justice, if he will be safe for but a short
time, should live privately, and take no part in public affairs.
20. I will give you strong proofs of this, not words, but, what you
value, facts. Hear then what has happened to me, that you may know that
I would not yield to any one contrary to what is just, through fear of
death, at the same time that, by not yielding, I must perish. I shall
tell you what will be displeasing and wearisome[5], yet true. For I, O
Athenians, never bore any other magisterial office in the city, but have
been a senator: and our Antiochean tribe happened to supply the Prytanes
when you chose to condemn in a body the ten generals, who had not taken
off those that perished in the sea-fight, in violation of the law, as
you afterwards all thought. At that time I alone of the Prytanes opposed
your doing any thing contrary to the laws, and I voted against you; and
when the orators were ready to denounce me, and to carry me before a
magistrate, and you urged and cheered them on, I thought I ought rather
to meet the danger with law and justice on my side, than through fear of
imprisonment or death to take part with you in your unjust designs. And
this happened while the city was governed by a democracy. But when it
became an oligarchy, the Thirty, having sent for me with four others to
the Tholus, ordered us to bring Leon the Salaminian from Salamis, that
he might be put to death; and they gave many similar orders to many
others, wishing to involve as many as they could in guilt. Then however
I shewed, not in word but in deed, that I did not care for death, if the
expression be not too rude, in the smallest degree, but that all my care
was to do nothing unjust or unholy. For that government, strong as it
was, did not so overawe me as to make me commit an unjust action; but
when we came out from the Tholus, the four went to Salamis, and brought
back Leon; but I went away home. And perhaps for this I should have been
put to death, if that government had not been speedily broken up. And of
this you can have many witnesses.
-----
Footnote 5:
But for the authority of Stallbaum, I should have translated δικανικὰ
“forensic,” that is, such arguments as an advocate would use in a
court of justice.
-----
21. Do you think, then, that I should have survived so many years, if I
had engaged in public affairs, and, acting as becomes a good man, had
aided the cause of justice, and, as I ought, had deemed this of the
highest importance? Far from it, O Athenians: nor would any other man
have done so. But I, through the whole of my life, if I have done any
thing in public, shall be found to be a man, and the very same in
private, who has never made a concession to any one contrary to justice,
neither to any other, nor to any one of these whom my calumniators say
are my disciples. I however was never the preceptor of any one; but if
any one desired to hear me speaking and to see me busied about my own
mission, whether he were young or old, I never refused him. Nor do I
discourse when I receive money, and not when I do not receive any, but I
allow both rich and poor alike to question me, and, if any one wishes
it, to answer me and hear what I have to say. And for these, whether any
one proves to be a good man or not, I cannot justly be responsible,
because I never either promised them any instruction or taught them at
all. But if any one says that he has ever learnt or heard any thing from
me in private, which all others have not, be well assured that he does
not speak the truth.
22. But why do some delight to spend so long a time with me? Ye have
heard, O Athenians. I have told you the whole truth, that they delight
to hear those closely questioned who think that they are wise but are
not: for this is by no means disagreeable. But this duty, as I say, has
been enjoined me by the deity, by oracles, by dreams, and by every mode
by which any other divine decree has ever enjoined any thing to man to
do. These things, O Athenians, are both true, and easily confuted if not
true. For if I am now corrupting some of the youths, and have already
corrupted others, it were fitting, surely, that if any of them, having
become advanced in life, had discovered that I gave them bad advice when
they were young, they should now rise up against me, accuse me, and have
me punished; or if they were themselves unwilling to do this, some of
their kindred, their fathers, or brothers, or other relatives, if their
kinsmen have ever sustained any damage from me, should now call it to
mind. Many of them however are here present, whom I see: first, Crito,
my contemporary and fellow-burgher, father of this Critobulus; then,
Lysanias of Sphettus, father of this Æschines; again, Antiphon of
Cephisus, father of Epigenes; there are those others too, whose brothers
maintained the same intimacy with me, namely, Nicostratus, son of
Theosdotidus, brother of Theodotus—Theodotus indeed is dead, so that he
could not deprecate his brother’s proceedings, and Paralus here, son of
Demodocus, whose brother was Theages; and Adimantus son of Ariston,
whose brother is this Plato; and Æantodorus, whose brother is this
Apollodorus. I could also mention many others to you, some one of whom
certainly Melitus ought to have adduced in his speech as a witness. If
however he then forgot to do so, let him now adduce them, I give him
leave to do so, and let him say it, if he has any thing of the kind to
allege. But quite contrary to this, you will find, O Athenians, all
ready to assist me, who have corrupted and injured their relatives, as
Melitus and Anytus say. For those who have been themselves corrupted
might perhaps have some reason for assisting me; but those who have not
been corrupted, men now advanced in life, their relatives, what other
reason can they have for assisting me, except that right and just one,
that they know that Melitus speaks falsely, and that I speak the truth.
23. Well then, Athenians; these are pretty much the things I have to say
in my defence, and others perhaps of the same kind. Perhaps, however,
some among you will be indignant on recollecting his own case, if he,
when engaged in a cause far less than this, implored and besought the
judges with many tears, bringing forward his children in order that he
might excite their utmost compassion, and many others of his relatives
and friends, whereas I do none of these things, although I may appear to
be incurring the extremity of danger. Perhaps, therefore, some one,
taking notice of this, may become more determined against me, and, being
enraged at this very conduct of mine, may give his vote under the
influence of anger. If then any one of you is thus affected,—I do not
however suppose that there is,—but if there should be, I think I may
reasonably say to him; “I too, O best of men, have relatives; for to
make use of that saying of Homer, I am not sprung from an oak, nor from
a rock, but from men, so that I too, O Athenians, have relatives, and
three sons, one now grown up, and two boys: I shall not however bring
any one of them forward and implore you to acquit me. Why then shall I
not do this? Not from contumacy, O Athenians, nor disrespect towards
you. Whether or not I am undaunted at the prospect of death, is another
question, but out of regard to my own character, and yours, and that of
the whole city, it does not appear to me to be honourable that I should
do any thing of this kind at my age, and with the reputation I have,
whether true or false. For it is commonly agreed that Socrates in some
respects excels the generality of men. If, then, those among you who
appear to excel either in wisdom, or fortitude, or any other virtue
whatsoever, should act in such a manner as I have often seen some when
they have been brought to trial, it would be shameful, who appearing
indeed to be something, have conducted themselves in a surprising
manner, as thinking they should suffer something dreadful by dying, and
as if they would be immortal if you did not put them to death. Such men
appear to me to bring disgrace on the city, so that any stranger might
suppose that such of the Athenians as excel in virtue, and whom they
themselves choose in preference to themselves for magistracies and other
honours, are in no respect superior to women. For these things, O
Athenians, neither ought we to do who have attained to any height of
reputation, nor, should we do them, ought you to suffer us; but you
should make this manifest, that you will much rather condemn him who
introduces these piteous dramas, and makes the city ridiculous, than him
who quietly awaits your decision.”
24. But reputation apart, O Athenians, it does not appear to me to be
right to entreat a judge, or to escape by entreaty, but one ought to
inform and persuade him. For a judge does not sit for the purpose of
administering justice out of favour, but that he may judge rightly, and
he is sworn not to shew favour to whom he pleases, but that he will
decide according to the laws. It is therefore right that neither should
we accustom you, nor should you accustom yourselves to violate your
oaths; for in so doing neither of us would act righteously. Think not
then, O Athenians, that I ought to adopt such a course towards you as I
neither consider honourable, nor just, nor holy, as well, by Jupiter, on
any other occasion, and now especially when I am accused of impiety by
this Melitus. For clearly, if I should persuade you, and by my
entreaties should put a constraint on you who are bound by an oath, I
should teach you to think that there are no gods, and in reality, while
making my defence, should accuse myself of not believing in the gods.
This, however, is far from being the case: for I believe, O Athenians,
as none of my accusers do, and I leave it to you and to the deity to
judge concerning me in such way as will be best both for me and for you.
[Socrates here concludes his defence, and the votes being taken, he is
declared guilty by a majority of voices. He thereupon resumes his
address.]
25. That I should not be grieved, O Athenians, at what has happened,
namely, that you have condemned me, as well many other circumstances
concur in bringing to pass, and moreover this, that what has happened
has not happened contrary to my expectation; but I much rather wonder at
the number of votes on either side. For I did not expect that I should
be condemned by so small a number, but by a large majority; but now, as
it seems, if only three more votes had changed sides, I should have been
acquitted. As far as Melitus is concerned, as it appears to me, I have
been already acquitted, and not only have I been acquitted, but it is
clear to every one that had not Anytus and Lycon come forward to accuse
me, he would have been fined a thousand drachmas, for not having
obtained a fifth part of the votes.
26. The man then awards me the penalty of death. Well. But what shall I,
on my part, O Athenians, award myself? Is it not clear that it will be
such as I deserve? What then is that? do I deserve to suffer or to pay a
fine, for that I have purposely during my life not remained quiet, but
neglecting what most men seek after, money-making, domestic concerns,
military command, popular oratory, and moreover all the magistracies,
conspiracies and cabals that are met with in the city, thinking that I
was in reality too upright a man to be safe if I took part in such
things, I therefore did not apply myself to those pursuits, by attending
to which I should have been of no service either to you or to myself;
but in order to confer the greatest benefit on each of you privately, as
I affirm, I thereupon applied myself to that object, endeavouring to
persuade every one of you, not to take any care of his own affairs,
before he had taken care of himself, in what way he may become the best
and wisest, nor of the affairs of the city before he took care of the
city itself; and that he should attend to other things in the same
manner. What treatment then do I deserve, seeing I am such a man? Some
reward, O Athenians, if at least I am to be estimated according to my
real deserts; and moreover such a reward as would be suitable to me.
What then is suitable to a poor man, a benefactor, and who has need of
leisure in order to give you good advice? There is nothing so suitable,
O Athenians, as that such a man should be maintained in the Prytaneum,
and this much more than if one of you had been victorious at the Olympic
games in a horse race, or in the two or four-horsed chariot race: for
such a one makes you appear to be happy, but I, to be so: and he does
not need support, but I do. If, therefore, I must award a sentence
according to my just deserts, I award this, maintenance in the
Prytaneum.
27. Perhaps, however, in speaking to you thus, I appear to you to speak
in the same presumptuous manner as I did respecting commiseration and
entreaties: but such is not the case, O Athenians, it is rather this. I
am persuaded that I never designedly injured any man, though I cannot
persuade you of this, for we have conversed with each other but for a
short time. For if there was the same law with you as with other men,
that in capital cases the trial should last not only one day but many, I
think you would be persuaded; but it is not easy in a short time to do
away with great calumnies. Being persuaded then that I have injured no
one, I am far from intending to injure myself, and of pronouncing
against myself that I am deserving of punishment, and from awarding
myself any thing of the kind. Through fear of what? lest I should suffer
that which Melitus awards me, of which I say I know not whether it be
good or evil? instead of this, shall I choose what I well know to be
evil, and award that? Shall I choose imprisonment? And why should I live
in prison, a slave to the established magistracy, the Eleven? Shall I
choose a fine, and to be imprisoned until I have paid it? But this is
the same as that which I just now mentioned, for I have not money to pay
it. Shall I then award myself exile? For perhaps you would consent to
this award. I should indeed be very fond of life, O Athenians, if I were
so devoid of reason as not to be able to reflect that you, who are my
fellow citizens, have been unable to endure my manner of life and
discourses, but they have become so burdensome and odious to you, that
you now seek to be rid of them: others however will easily bear them:
far from it, O Athenians. A fine life it would be for me at my age to go
out wandering and driven from city to city, and so to live. For I well
know that, wherever I may go, the youth will listen to me when I speak,
as they do here. And if I repulse them, they will themselves drive me
out, persuading the elders; and if I do not repulse them, their fathers
and kindred will banish me on their account.
28. Perhaps however some one will say, Can you not, Socrates, when you
have gone from us, live a silent and quiet life? This is the most
difficult thing of all to persuade some of you. For if I say that that
would be to disobey the deity, and that therefore it is impossible for
me to live quietly, you would not believe me, thinking I spoke
ironically. If, on the other hand, I say that this is the greatest good
to man, to discourse daily on virtue, and other things which you have
heard me discussing, examining both myself and others, but that a life
without investigation is not worth living for, still less would you
believe me if I said this. Such however is the case, as I affirm, O
Athenians, though it is not easy to persuade you. And at the same time I
am not accustomed to think myself deserving of any ill. If indeed I were
rich, I would amerce myself in such a sum as I should be able to pay;
for then I should have suffered no harm, but now—for I cannot, unless
you are willing to amerce me in such a sum as I am able to pay. But
perhaps I could pay you a mina of silver: in that sum then I amerce
myself. But Plato here, O Athenians, and Crito, Critobulus, and
Apollodorus bid me amerce myself in thirty minæ, and they offer to be
sureties. I amerce myself then to you in that sum; and they will be
sufficient sureties for the money.
[The judges now proceeded to pass the sentence, and condemned Socrates
to death; whereupon he continued:]
29. For the sake of no long space of time, O Athenians, you will incur
the character and reproach at the hands of those who wish to defame the
city, of having put that wise man, Socrates, to death. For those who
wish to defame you will assert that I am wise, though I am not. If,
then, you had waited for a short time, this would have happened of its
own accord; for observe my age, that it is far advanced in life, and
near death. But I say this not to you all, but to those only who have
condemned me to die. And I say this too to the same persons. Perhaps you
think, O Athenians, that I have been convicted through the want of
arguments, by which I might have persuaded you, had I thought it right
to do and say any thing, so that I might escape punishment. Far
otherwise: I have been convicted through want indeed, yet not of
arguments, but of audacity and impudence, and of the inclination to say
such things to you as would have been most agreeable for you to hear,
had I lamented and bewailed and done and said many other things unworthy
of me, as I affirm, but such as you are accustomed to hear from others.
But neither did I then think that I ought, for the sake of avoiding
danger, to do any thing unworthy of a freeman, nor do I now repent of
having so defended myself; but I should much rather choose to die,
having so defended myself, than to live in that way. For neither in a
trial nor in battle, is it right that I or any one else should employ
every possible means whereby he may avoid death; for in battle it is
frequently evident that a man might escape death by laying down his
arms, and throwing himself on the mercy of his pursuers. And there are
many other devices in every danger, by which to avoid death, if a man
dares to do and say every thing. But this is not difficult, O Athenians,
to escape death, but it is much more difficult to avoid depravity, for
it runs swifter than death. And now I, being slow and aged, am overtaken
by the slower of the two; but my accusers, being strong and active, have
been overtaken by the swifter, wickedness. And now I depart, condemned
by you to death; but they condemned by truth, as guilty of iniquity and
injustice: and I abide my sentence and so do they. These things,
perhaps, ought so to be, and I think that they are for the best.
30. In the next place, I desire to predict to you who have condemned me,
what will be your fate: for I am now in that condition in which men most
frequently prophecy, namely, when they are about to die. I say then to
you, O Athenians, who have condemned me to death, that immediately after
my death a punishment will overtake you, far more severe, by Jupiter,
than that which you have inflicted on me. For you have done this,
thinking you should be freed from the necessity of giving an account of
your life. The very contrary however, as I affirm, will happen to you.
Your accusers will be more numerous, whom I have now restrained, though
you did not perceive it; and they will be more severe, inasmuch as they
are younger, and you will be more indignant. For, if you think that by
putting men to death you will restrain any one from upbraiding you
because you do not live well, you are much mistaken; for this method of
escape is neither possible nor honourable, but that other is most
honourable and most easy, not to put a check upon others, but for a man
to take heed to himself, how he may be most perfect. Having predicted
thus much to those of you who have condemned me, I take my leave of you.
31. But with you who have voted for my acquittal, I would gladly hold
converse on what has now taken place, while the magistrates are busy and
I am not yet carried to the place where I must die. Stay with me then,
so long, O Athenians, for nothing hinders our conversing with each
other, whilst we are permitted to do so; for I wish to make known to
you, as being my friends, the meaning of that which has just now
befallen me. To me then, O my judges,—and in calling you judges I call
you rightly,—a strange thing has happened. For the wonted prophetic
voice of my guardian deity, on every former occasion even in the most
trifling affairs opposed me, if I was about to do any thing wrong; but
now, that has befallen me which ye yourselves behold, and which any one
would think and which is supposed to be the extremity of evil, yet
neither when I departed from home in the morning did the warning of the
god oppose me, nor when I came up here to the place of trial, nor in my
address when I was about to say any thing; yet on other occasions it has
frequently restrained me in the midst of speaking. But now, it has never
throughout this proceeding opposed me, either in what I did or said.
What then do I suppose to be the cause of this? I will tell you: what
has befallen me appears to be a blessing; and it is impossible that we
think rightly who suppose that death is an evil. A great proof of this
to me is the fact that it is impossible but that the accustomed signal
should have opposed me, unless I had been about to meet with some good.
32. Moreover we may hence conclude that there is great hope that death
is a blessing. For to die is one of two things: for either the dead may
be annihilated and have no sensation of any thing whatever; or, as it is
said, there is a certain change and passage of the soul from one place
to another. And if it is a privation of all sensation, as it were a
sleep in which the sleeper has no dream, death would be a wonderful
gain. For I think that if any one, having selected a night, in which he
slept so soundly as not to have had a dream, and having compared this
night with all the other nights and days of his life, should be required
on consideration to say how many days and nights he had passed better
and more pleasantly than this night throughout his life, I think that
not only a private person, but even the great king himself would find
them easy to number in comparison with other days and nights. If,
therefore, death is a thing of this kind, I say it is a gain; for thus
all futurity appears to be nothing more than one night. But if, on the
other hand, death is a removal from hence to another place, and what is
said be true, that all the dead are there, what greater blessing can
there be than this, my judges? For if, on arriving at Hades, released
from these who pretend to be judges, one shall find those who are true
judges, and who are said to judge there, Minos and Rhadamanthus, Æacus
and Triptolemus, and such others of the demigods as were just during
their own life, would this be a sad removal? At what price would you not
estimate a conference with Orpheus and Musæus, Hesiod and Homer? I
indeed should be willing to die often, if this be true. For to me the
sojourn there would be admirable, when I should meet with Palamedes, and
Ajax son of Telamon, and any other of the ancients who has died by an
unjust sentence. The comparing my sufferings with theirs would, I think,
be no unpleasing occupation. But the greatest pleasure would be to spend
my time in questioning and examining the people there as I have done
those here, and discovering who among them is wise, and who fancies
himself to be so but is not. At what price, my judges, would not any one
estimate the opportunity of questioning him who led that mighty army
against Troy, or Ulysses, or Sisyphus, or ten thousand others, whom one
might mention, both men and women? with whom to converse and associate,
and to question them, would be an inconceivable happiness. Surely for
that the judges there do not condemn to death; for in other respects
those who live there are more happy than those that are here, and are
henceforth immortal, if at least what is said be true.
33. You, therefore, O my judges, ought to entertain good hopes with
respect to death, and to meditate on this one truth, that to a good man
nothing is evil, neither while living nor when dead, nor are his
concerns neglected by the gods. And what has befallen me is not the
effect of chance; but this is clear to me, that now to die, and be freed
from my cares, is better for me. On this account the warning in no way
turned me aside; and I bear no resentment towards those who condemned
me, or against my accusers, although they did not condemn and accuse me
with this intention, but thinking to injure me: in this they deserve to
be blamed.
Thus much however I beg of them. Punish my sons, when they grow up, O
judges, paining them as I have pained you, if they appear to you to care
for riches or any thing else before virtue, and if they think themselves
to be something when they are nothing, reproach them as I have done you,
for not attending to what they ought, and for conceiving themselves to
be something when they are worth nothing. If ye do this, both I and my
sons shall have met with just treatment at your hands.
But it is now time to depart,—for me to die, for you to live. But which
of us is going to a better state is unknown to every one but God.