SCENE:—The Prison of Socrates.
[Sidenote: _Crito._]
[Sidenote: Crito appears at break of dawn in the prison of Socrates, whom
he finds asleep.]
_Socrates._ Why have you come at this hour, Crito? it must
be quite early? =Steph.= 43
_Crito._ Yes, certainly.
_Soc._ What is the exact time?
_Cr._ The dawn is breaking.
_Soc._ I wonder that the keeper of the prison would let
you in.
_Cr._ He knows me, because I often come, Socrates; moreover,
I have done him a kindness.
_Soc._ And are you only just arrived?
_Cr._ No, I came some time ago.
_Soc._ Then why did you sit and say nothing, instead of at
once awakening me?
_Cr._ I should not have liked myself, Socrates, to be in such
great trouble and unrest as you are—indeed I should not: I
have been watching with amazement your peaceful slumbers;
and for that reason I did not awake you, because I wished to
minimize the pain. I have always thought you to be of a
happy disposition; but never did I see anything like the easy,
tranquil manner in which you bear this calamity.
_Soc._ Why, Crito, when a man has reached my age he ought
not to be repining at the approach of death.
_Cr._ And yet other old men find themselves in similar misfortunes,
and age does not prevent them from repining.
[Sidenote: _The vision of Socrates._]
_Soc._ That is true. But you have not told me why you
come at this early hour.
_Cr._ I come to bring you a message which is sad and painful;
not, as I believe, to yourself, but to all of us who are
your friends, and saddest of all to me.
[Sidenote: The ship from Delos is expected.]
_Soc._ What? Has the ship come from Delos, on the arrival
of which I am to die?
_Cr._ No, the ship has not actually arrived, but she will probably
be here to-day, as persons who have come from Sunium
tell me that they left her there; and therefore to-morrow, Socrates,
will be the last day of your life.
_Soc._ Very well, Crito; if such is the will of God, I am
willing; but my belief is that there will be a delay of a day.
_Cr._ Why do you think so? 44
_Soc._ I will tell you. I am to die on the day after the arrival
of the ship.
_Cr._ Yes; that is what the authorities say.
[Sidenote: A vision of a fair woman who prophesies in the language of
Homer that Socrates will die on the third day.]
_Soc._ But I do not think that the ship will be here until to-morrow;
this I infer from a vision which I had last night, or
rather only just now, when you fortunately allowed me to
sleep.
_Cr._ And what was the nature of the vision?
_Soc._ There appeared to me the likeness of a woman, fair
and comely, clothed in bright raiment, who called to me and
said: O Socrates,
‘The third day hence to fertile Phthia shalt thou go[17].’
_Cr._ What a singular dream, Socrates!
_Soc._ There can be no doubt about the meaning, Crito, I
think.
[Sidenote: _The devotion of his friends._]
_Cr._ Yes; the meaning is only too clear. But, oh! my beloved
Socrates, let me entreat you once more to take my
advice and escape. For if you die I shall not only lose a
friend who can never be replaced, but there is another evil:
people who do not know you and me will believe that I might
have saved you if I had been willing to give money, but that
I did not care. Now, can there be a worse disgrace than
this—that I should be thought to value money more than the
life of a friend? For the many will not be persuaded that I
wanted you to escape, and that you refused.
_Soc._ But why, my dear Crito, should we care about the
opinion of the many? Good men, and they are the only
persons who are worth considering, will think of these things
truly as they occurred.
[Sidenote: Crito by a variety of arguments tries to induce Socrates to
make his escape. The means will be easily provided and without danger to
any one.]
_Cr._ But you see, Socrates, that the opinion of the many
must be regarded, for what is now happening shows that they
can do the greatest evil to any one who has lost their good
opinion.
_Soc._ I only wish it were so, Crito; and that the many
could do the greatest evil; for then they would also be able
to do the greatest good—and what a fine thing this would be!
But in reality they can do neither; for they cannot make a
man either wise or foolish; and whatever they do is the result
of chance.
_Cr._ Well, I will not dispute with you; but please to tell me,
Socrates, whether you are not acting out of regard to me and
your other friends: are you not afraid that if you escape from
prison we may get into trouble with the informers for having
stolen you away, and lose either the whole or a great part of
our property; or that even a worse evil may happen to us? 45
Now, if you fear on our account, be at ease; for in order to
save you, we ought surely to run this, or even a greater
risk; be persuaded, then, and do as I say.
_Soc._ Yes, Crito, that is one fear which you mention, but by
no means the only one.
[Sidenote: _The arguments of Crito._]
_Cr._ Fear not—there are persons who are willing to get
you out of prison at no great cost; and as for the informers,
they are far from being exorbitant in their demands—a little
money will satisfy them. My means, which are certainly
ample, are at your service, and if you have a scruple about
spending all mine, here are strangers who will give you the
use of theirs; and one of them, Simmias the Theban, has
brought a large sum of money for this very purpose; and
Cebes and many others are prepared to spend their money in
helping you to escape. I say, therefore, do not hesitate on
our account, and do not say, as you did in the court[18], that you
will have a difficulty in knowing what to do with yourself anywhere
else. For men will love you in other places to which
you may go, and not in Athens only; there are friends of
mine in Thessaly, if you like to go to them, who will value and
protect you, and no Thessalian will give you any trouble.
[Sidenote: He is not justified in throwing away his life; he will be
deserting his children, and will bring the reproach of cowardice on his
friends.]
Nor can I think that you are at all justified, Socrates, in
betraying your own life when you might be saved; in acting
thus you are playing into the hands of your enemies, who
are hurrying on your destruction. And further I should say
that you are deserting your own children; for you might
bring them up and educate them; instead of which you go
away and leave them, and they will have to take their chance;
and if they do not meet with the usual fate of orphans, there
will be small thanks to you. No man should bring children
into the world who is unwilling to persevere to the end in
their nurture and education. But you appear to be choosing
the easier part, not the better and manlier, which would have
been more becoming in one who professes to care for virtue
in all his actions, like yourself. And indeed, I am ashamed
not only of you, but of us who are your friends, when I reflect
that the whole business will be attributed entirely to our want
of courage. The trial need never have come on, or might
have been managed differently; and this last act, or crowning
folly, will seem to have occurred through our negligence and
cowardice, who might have saved you, if we had been good for 46
anything; and you might have saved yourself, for there was
no difficulty at all. See now, Socrates, how sad and discreditable
are the consequences, both to us and you. Make up
your mind then, or rather have your mind already made up,
for the time of deliberation is over, and there is only one
thing to be done, which must be done this very night, and if
we delay at all will be no longer practicable or possible; I
beseech you therefore, Socrates, be persuaded by me, and do
as I say.
[Sidenote: Socrates is one of those who must be guided by reason.]
[Sidenote: _The answer of Socrates._]
[Sidenote: Ought he to follow the opinion of the many or of the few, of
the wise or of the unwise?]
_Soc._ Dear Crito, your zeal is invaluable, if a right one; but
if wrong, the greater the zeal the greater the danger; and
therefore we ought to consider whether I shall or shall not do
as you say. For I am and always have been one of those
natures who must be guided by reason, whatever the reason
may be which upon reflection appears to me to be the best;
and now that this chance has befallen me, I cannot repudiate
my own words: the principles which I have hitherto honoured
and revered I still honour, and unless we can at once find
other and better principles, I am certain not to agree with you;
no, not even if the power of the multitude could inflict many
more imprisonments, confiscations, deaths, frightening us like
children with hobgoblin terrors[19]. What will be the fairest
way of considering the question? Shall I return to your
old argument about the opinions of men?—we were saying
that some of them are to be regarded, and others not.
Now were we right in maintaining this before I was condemned?
And has the argument which was once good
now proved to be talk for the sake of talking—mere childish
nonsense? That is what I want to consider with your help,
Crito:—whether, under my present circumstances, the argument
appears to be in any way different or not; and is to be
allowed by me or disallowed. That argument, which, as I
believe, is maintained by many persons of authority, was to
the effect, as I was saying, that the opinions of some men are
to be regarded, and of other men not to be regarded. Now
you, Crito, are not going to die to-morrow—at least, there is no 47
human probability of this—and therefore you are disinterested
and not liable to be deceived by the circumstances in which
you are placed. Tell me then, whether I am right in saying
that some opinions, and the opinions of some men only, are to
be valued, and that other opinions, and the opinions of other
men, are not to be valued. I ask you whether I was right in
maintaining this?
_Cr._ Certainly.
_Soc._ The good are to be regarded, and not the bad?
_Cr._ Yes.
_Soc._ And the opinions of the wise are good, and the
opinions of the unwise are evil?
_Cr._ Certainly.
_Soc._ And what was said about another matter? Is the
pupil who devotes himself to the practice of gymnastics
supposed to attend to the praise and blame and opinion of
every man, or of one man only—his physician or trainer,
whoever he may be?
[Sidenote: _First principles._]
_Cr._ Of one man only.
_Soc._ And he ought to fear the censure and welcome the
praise of that one only, and not of the many?
_Cr._ Clearly so.
_Soc._ And he ought to act and train, and eat and drink in
the way which seems good to his single master who has
understanding, rather than according to the opinion of all
other men put together?
_Cr._ True.
_Soc._ And if he disobeys and disregards the opinion and
approval of the one, and regards the opinion of the many
who have no understanding, will he not suffer evil?
_Cr._ Certainly he will.
_Soc._ And what will the evil be, whither tending and what
affecting, in the disobedient person?
_Cr._ Clearly, affecting the body; that is what is destroyed
by the evil.
[Sidenote: The opinion of the one wise man is to be followed.]
_Soc._ Very good; and is not this true, Crito, of other
things which we need not separately enumerate? In
questions of just and unjust, fair and foul, good and evil,
which are the subjects of our present consultation, ought we
to follow the opinion of the many and to fear them; or the
opinion of the one man who has understanding? ought we
not to fear and reverence him more than all the rest of the
world: and if we desert him shall we not destroy and injure
that principle in us which may be assumed to be improved
by justice and deteriorated by injustice;—there is such a
principle?
_Cr._ Certainly there is, Socrates.
_Soc._ Take a parallel instance:—if, acting under the advice
of those who have no understanding, we destroy that which
is improved by health and is deteriorated by disease, would
life be worth having? And that which has been destroyed
is—the body?
_Cr._ Yes.
_Soc._ Could we live, having an evil and corrupted body?
_Cr._ Certainly not.
[Sidenote: _The application of them to the present case._]
_Soc._ And will life be worth having, if that higher part of
man be destroyed, which is improved by justice and depraved
by injustice? Do we suppose that principle, whatever it
may be in man, which has to do with justice and injustice, to 48
be inferior to the body?
_Cr._ Certainly not.
_Soc._ More honourable than the body?
_Cr._ Far more.
[Sidenote: No matter what the many say of us.]
_Soc._ Then, my friend, we must not regard what the many
say of us: but what he, the one man who has understanding
of just and unjust, will say, and what the truth will say.
And therefore you begin in error when you advise that we
should regard the opinion of the many about just and unjust,
good and evil, honourable and dishonourable.—‘Well,’
some one will say, ‘but the many can kill us.’
_Cr._ Yes, Socrates; that will clearly be the answer.
[Sidenote: Not life, but a good life, to be chiefly valued.]
_Soc._ And it is true: but still I find with surprise that the
old argument is unshaken as ever. And I should like to
know whether I may say the same of another proposition—that
not life, but a good life, is to be chiefly valued?
_Cr._ Yes, that also remains unshaken.
_Soc._ And a good life is equivalent to a just and honourable
one—that holds also?
_Cr._ Yes, it does.
[Sidenote: Admitting these principles, ought I to try and escape or not?]
_Soc._ From these premisses I proceed to argue the question
whether I ought or ought not to try and escape without the
consent of the Athenians: and if I am clearly right in
escaping, then I will make the attempt; but if not, I will
abstain. The other considerations which you mention, of
money and loss of character and the duty of educating one’s
children, are, I fear, only the doctrines of the multitude, who
would be as ready to restore people to life, if they were able,
as they are to put them to death—and with as little reason.
But now, since the argument has thus far prevailed, the only
question which remains to be considered is, whether we
shall do rightly either in escaping or in suffering others to
aid in our escape and paying them in money and thanks,
or whether in reality we shall not do rightly; and if the
latter, then death or any other calamity which may ensue
on my remaining here must not be allowed to enter into the
calculation.
_Cr._ I think that you are right, Socrates; how then shall
we proceed?
[Sidenote: _First principles._]
_Soc._ Let us consider the matter together, and do you
either refute me if you can, and I will be convinced; or else
cease, my dear friend, from repeating to me that I ought to
escape against the wishes of the Athenians: for I highly
value your attempts to persuade me to do so, but I may not
be persuaded against my own better judgment. And now
please to consider my first position, and try how you can 49
best answer me.
_Cr._ I will.
[Sidenote: May we sometimes do evil that good may come?]
_Soc._ Are we to say that we are never intentionally to do
wrong, or that in one way we ought and in another way we
ought not to do wrong, or is doing wrong always evil and
dishonourable, as I was just now saying, and as has been
already acknowledged by us? Are all our former admissions
which were made within a few days to be thrown
away? And have we, at our age, been earnestly discoursing
with one another all our life long only to discover that we
are no better than children? Or, in spite of the opinion of
the many, and in spite of consequences whether better or
worse, shall we insist on the truth of what was then said,
that injustice is always an evil and dishonour to him who
acts unjustly? Shall we say so or not?
_Cr._ Yes.
_Soc._ Then we must do no wrong?
_Cr._ Certainly not.
_Soc._ Nor when injured injure in return, as the many
imagine; for we must injure no one at all[20]?
_Cr._ Clearly not.
_Soc._ Again, Crito, may we do evil?
_Cr._ Surely not, Socrates.
[Sidenote: May we render evil for evil?]
_Soc._ And what of doing evil in return for evil, which is the
morality of the many—is that just or not?
_Cr._ Not just.
_Soc._ For doing evil to another is the same as injuring
him?
_Cr._ Very true.
[Sidenote: _The address of the Laws._]
[Sidenote: Or is evil always to be deemed evil? Are you of the same mind
as formerly about all this?]
_Soc._ Then we ought not to retaliate or render evil for evil
to any one, whatever evil we may have suffered from him.
But I would have you consider, Crito, whether you really
mean what you are saying. For this opinion has never been
held, and never will be held, by any considerable number of
persons; and those who are agreed and those who are not
agreed upon this point have no common ground, and can
only despise one another when they see how widely they
differ. Tell me, then, whether you agree with and assent to
my first principle, that neither injury nor retaliation nor
warding off evil by evil is ever right. And shall that be the
premiss of our argument? Or do you decline and dissent
from this? For so I have ever thought, and continue to
think; but, if you are of another opinion, let me hear what
you have to say. If, however, you remain of the same mind
as formerly, I will proceed to the next step.
[Sidenote: Crito assents.]
_Cr._ You may proceed, for I have not changed my mind.
[Sidenote: Then ought Socrates to desert or not?]
_Soc._ Then I will go on to the next point, which may be
put in the form of a question:—Ought a man to do what he
admits to be right, or ought he to betray the right?
_Cr._ He ought to do what he thinks right.
_Soc._ But if this is true, what is the application? In
leaving the prison against the will of the Athenians, do I 50
wrong any? or rather do I not wrong those whom I ought
least to wrong? Do I not desert the principles which were
acknowledged by us to be just—what do you say?
_Cr._ I cannot tell, Socrates; for I do not know.
[Sidenote: The Laws come and argue with him.—Can a State exist in which
law is set aside?]
_Soc._ Then consider the matter in this way:—Imagine that
I am about to play truant (you may call the proceeding by
any name which you like), and the laws and the government
come and interrogate me: ‘Tell us, Socrates,’ they say;
‘what are you about? are you not going by an act of yours
to overturn us—the laws, and the whole state, as far as in
you lies? Do you imagine that a state can subsist and not
be overthrown, in which the decisions of law have no power,
but are set aside and trampled upon by individuals?’ What
will be our answer, Crito, to these and the like words?
Any one, and especially a rhetorician, will have a good deal
to say on behalf of the law which requires a sentence to be
carried out. He will argue that this law should not be set
aside; and shall we reply, ‘Yes; but the state has injured us
and given an unjust sentence.’ Suppose I say that?
[Sidenote: _The address of the Laws._]
_Cr._ Very good, Socrates.
[Sidenote: Has he any fault to find with them?]
[Sidenote: No man has any right to strike a blow at his country any more
than at his father or mother.]
_Soc._ ‘And was that our agreement with you?’ the law
would answer; ‘or were you to abide by the sentence of the
state?’ And if I were to express my astonishment at their
words, the law would probably add: ‘Answer, Socrates,
instead of opening your eyes—you are in the habit of asking
and answering questions. Tell us,—What complaint have
you to make against us which justifies you in attempting to
destroy us and the state? In the first place did we not
bring you into existence? Your father married your mother
by our aid and begat you. Say whether you have any objection
to urge against those of us who regulate marriage?’
None, I should reply. ‘Or against those of us who after
birth regulate the nurture and education of children, in
which you also were trained? Were not the laws, which
have the charge of education, right in commanding your
father to train you in music and gymnastic?’ Right, I
should reply. Well then, since you were brought into the
world and nurtured and educated by us, can you deny in the
first place that you are our child and slave, as your fathers
were before you? And, if this is true you are not on equal
terms with us; nor can you think that you have a right to do
to us what we are doing to you. Would you have any right
to strike or revile or do any other evil to your father or your
master, if you had one, because you have been struck or
reviled by him, or received some other evil at his hands?—you
would not say this? And because we think right to 51
destroy you, do you think that you have any right to destroy
us in return, and your country as far as in you lies? Will
you, O professor of true virtue, pretend that you are justified
in this? Has a philosopher like you failed to discover that
our country is more to be valued and higher and holier far
than mother or father or any ancestor, and more to be regarded
in the eyes of the gods and of men of understanding?
also to be soothed, and gently and reverently entreated when
angry, even more than a father, and either to be persuaded,
or if not persuaded, to be obeyed? And when we are
punished by her, whether with imprisonment or stripes, the
punishment is to be endured in silence; and if she lead us
to wounds or death in battle, thither we follow as is right;
neither may any one yield or retreat or leave his rank, but
whether in battle or in a court of law, or in any other place,
he must do what his city and his country order him; or he
must change their view of what is just: and if he may do no
violence to his father or mother, much less may he do
violence to his country.’ What answer shall we make to
this, Crito? Do the laws speak truly, or do they not?
_Cr._ I think that they do.
[Sidenote: _‘Listen to us, Socrates.’_]
[Sidenote: The Laws argue that he has made an implied agreement with them
which he is not at liberty to break at his pleasure.]
_Soc._ Then the laws will say: ‘Consider, Socrates, if we
are speaking truly that in your present attempt you are
going to do us an injury. For, having brought you into
the world, and nurtured and educated you, and given you
and every other citizen a share in every good which we had
to give, we further proclaim to any Athenian by the liberty
which we allow him, that if he does not like us when he has
become of age and has seen the ways of the city, and made
our acquaintance, he may go where he pleases and take his
goods with him. None of us laws will forbid him or interfere
with him. Any one who does not like us and the city, and
who wants to emigrate to a colony or to any other city, may
go where he likes, retaining his property. But he who has
experience of the manner in which we order justice and
administer the state, and still remains, has entered into an
implied contract that he will do as we command him. And
he who disobeys us is, as we maintain, thrice wrong; first,
because in disobeying us he is disobeying his parents;
secondly, because we are the authors of his education;
thirdly, because he has made an agreement with us that he
will duly obey our commands; and he neither obeys them 52
nor convinces us that our commands are unjust; and we do
not rudely impose them, but give him the alternative of
obeying or convincing us;—that is what we offer, and he
does neither.
[Sidenote: _The address of the Laws._]
‘These are the sort of accusations to which, as we were
saying, you, Socrates, will be exposed if you accomplish
your intentions; you, above all other Athenians.’ Suppose
now I ask, why I rather than anybody else? they will
justly retort upon me that I above all other men have
acknowledged the agreement. ‘There is clear proof,’
they will say, ‘Socrates, that we and the city were not displeasing
to you. Of all Athenians you have been the most
constant resident in the city, which, as you never leave, you
may be supposed to love[21]. For you never went out of the
city either to see the games, except once when you went to
the Isthmus, or to any other place unless when you were on
military service; nor did you travel as other men do. Nor
had you any curiosity to know other states or their laws:
your affections did not go beyond us and our state; we were
your special favourites, and you acquiesced in our government
of you; and here in this city you begat your children,
which is a proof of your satisfaction. Moreover, you might
in the course of the trial, if you had liked, have fixed the
penalty at banishment; the state which refuses to let you go
now would have let you go then. But you pretended that you
preferred death to exile[22], and that you were not unwilling to
die. And now you have forgotten these fine sentiments,
and pay no respect to us the laws, of whom you are the
destroyer; and are doing what only a miserable slave would
do, running away and turning your back upon the compacts
and agreements which you made as a citizen. And first of
all answer this very question: Are we right in saying that
you agreed to be governed according to us in deed, and
not in word only? Is that true or not?’ How shall we
answer, Crito? Must we not assent?
_Cr._ We cannot help it, Socrates.
[Sidenote: This agreement he is now going to break.]
_Soc._ Then will they not say: ‘You, Socrates, are breaking
the covenants and agreements which you made with us at
your leisure, not in any haste or under any compulsion or
deception, but after you have had seventy years to think
of them, during which time you were at liberty to leave
the city, if we were not to your mind, or if our covenants
appeared to you to be unfair. You had your choice, and
might have gone either to Lacedaemon or Crete, both which
states are often praised by you for their good government,
or to some other Hellenic or foreign state. Whereas you, 53
above all other Athenians, seemed to be so fond of the state,
or, in other words, of us her laws (and who would care about
a state which has no laws?), that you never stirred out of her;
the halt, the blind, the maimed were not more stationary
in her than you were. And now you run away and forsake
your agreements. Not so, Socrates, if you will take our
advice; do not make yourself ridiculous by escaping out of
the city.
[Sidenote: _‘Listen to us, Socrates.’_]
[Sidenote: If he does he will injure his friends and will disgrace
himself.]
‘For just consider, if you transgress and err in this sort of
way, what good will you do either to yourself or to your
friends? That your friends will be driven into exile and
deprived of citizenship, or will lose their property, is
tolerably certain; and you yourself, if you fly to one of the
neighbouring cities, as, for example, Thebes or Megara,
both of which are well governed, will come to them as an
enemy, Socrates, and their government will be against you,
and all patriotic citizens will cast an evil eye upon you as
a subverter of the laws, and you will confirm in the minds of
the judges the justice of their own condemnation of you.
For he who is a corrupter of the laws is more than likely to
be a corrupter of the young and foolish portion of mankind.
Will you then flee from well-ordered cities and virtuous
men? and is existence worth having on these terms? Or
will you go to them without shame, and talk to them,
Socrates? And what will you say to them? What you
say here about virtue and justice and institutions and laws
being the best things among men? Would that be decent
of you? Surely not. But if you go away from well-governed
states to Crito’s friends in Thessaly, where there
is great disorder and licence, they will be charmed to hear
the tale of your escape from prison, set off with ludicrous
particulars of the manner in which you were wrapped in a
goatskin or some other disguise, and metamorphosed as the
manner is of runaways; but will there be no one to remind
you that in your old age you were not ashamed to violate
the most sacred laws from a miserable desire of a little more
life? Perhaps not, if you keep them in a good temper; but
if they are out of temper you will hear many degrading
things; you will live, but how?—as the flatterer of all men,
and the servant of all men; and doing what?—eating and
drinking in Thessaly, having gone abroad in order that you
may get a dinner. And where will be your fine sentiments
about justice and virtue? Say that you wish to live for the 54
sake of your children—you want to bring them up and
educate them—will you take them into Thessaly and deprive
them of Athenian citizenship? Is this the benefit which
you will confer upon them? Or are you under the impression
that they will be better cared for and educated
here if you are still alive, although absent from them; for
your friends will take care of them? Do you fancy that if
you are an inhabitant of Thessaly they will take care of them,
and if you are an inhabitant of the other world that they
will not take care of them? Nay; but if they who call
themselves friends are good for anything, they will—to be
sure they will.
[Sidenote: _There is no answer._]
[Sidenote: Let him think of justice first, and of life and children
afterwards.]
‘Listen, then, Socrates, to us who have brought you up.
Think not of life and children first, and of justice afterwards,
but of justice first, that you may be justified before the
princes of the world below. For neither will you nor any
that belong to you be happier or holier or juster in this life,
or happier in another, if you do as Crito bids. Now you
depart in innocence, a sufferer and not a doer of evil; a
victim, not of the laws but of men. But if you go forth,
returning evil for evil, and injury for injury, breaking the
covenants and agreements which you have made with us,
and wronging those whom you ought least of all to wrong,
that is to say, yourself, your friends, your country, and us,
we shall be angry with you while you live, and our brethren,
the laws in the world below, will receive you as an enemy;
for they will know that you have done your best to destroy
us. Listen, then, to us and not to Crito.’
[Sidenote: The mystic voice.]
This, dear Crito, is the voice which I seem to hear murmuring
in my ears, like the sound of the flute in the ears of
the mystic; that voice, I say, is humming in my ears, and
prevents me from hearing any other. And I know that
anything more which you may say will be vain. Yet speak,
if you have anything to say.
_Cr._ I have nothing to say, Socrates.
_Soc._ Leave me then, Crito, to fulfil the will of God, and to
follow whither he leads.