Apology, Crito, and Phaedo of Socrates eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 185 pages of information about Apology, Crito, and Phaedo of Socrates.



Socr. Why have you come at this hour, Crito?  Is it not very early?

Cri. It is.

Socr. About what time?

Cri. Scarce day-break.

Socr. I wonder how the keeper of the prison came to admit you.

Cri. He is familiar with me, Socrates, from my having frequently come hither; and he is under some obligations to me.

Socr. Have you just now come, or some time since?

Cri. A considerable time since.

Socr. Why, then, did you not wake me at once, instead of sitting down by me in silence?

Cri. By Jupiter!  Socrates, I should not myself like to be so long awake, and in such affliction.  But I have been for some time wondering at you, perceiving how sweetly you slept; and I purposely did not awake you, that you might pass your time as pleasantly as possible.  And, indeed, I have often before throughout your whole life considered you happy in your disposition, but far more so in the present calamity, seeing how easily and meekly you bear it.

Socr. However, Crito, it would be disconsonant for a man at my time of life to repine because he must needs die.

Cri. But others, Socrates, at your age have been involved in similar calamities, yet their age has not hindered their repining at their present fortune.

Socr. So it is.  But why did you come so early?

Cri. Bringing sad tidings, Socrates, not sad to you, as it appears, but to me, and all your friends, sad and heavy, and which I, I think, shall bear worst of all.

Socr. What tidings?  Has the ship[6] arrived from Delos, on the arrival of which I must die?

Cri. It has not yet arrived, but it appears to me that it will come to-day, from what certain persons report who have come from Sunium,[7] and left it there.  It is clear, therefore, from these messengers, that it will come to day, and consequently it will be necessary, Socrates, for you to die to-morrow.

2. Socr. But with good fortune, Crito, and if so it please the gods, so be it.  I do not think, however, that it will come to day.

Cri. Whence do you form this conjecture?

Socr. I will tell you.  I must die on the day after that on which the ship arrives.

Cri. So they say[8] who have the control of these things.

Socr. I do not think, then, that it will come to-day, but to-morrow.  I conjecture this from a dream which I had this very night, not long ago, and you seem very opportunely to have refrained from waking me.

Cri. But what was this dream?

Socr. A beautiful and majestic woman, clad in white garments seemed to approach me, and to call to me and say, “Socrates, three days hence you will reach fertile Pythia"[9].

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Apology, Crito, and Phaedo of Socrates from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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