know to be the noblest and gentlest and best of all who ever came to
this place, I will not impute the angry feelings of other men, who rage
and swear at me when, in obedience to the authorities, I bid them drink
the poison -- indeed, I am sure that you will not be angry with me; for
others, as you are aware, and not I, are the guilty cause. And so fare
you well, and try to bear lightly what must needs be; you know my
errand. Then bursting into tears he turned away and went out.
Socrates looked at him and said: I return your good wishes, and will do
as you bid. Then, turning to us, he said, How charming the man is: since
I have been in prison he has always been coming to see me, and at times
he would talk to me, and was as good as could be to me, and now see how
generously he sorrows for me. But we must do as he says, Crito; let the
cup be brought, if the poison is prepared: if not, let the attendant
prepare some.
Yet, said Crito, the sun is still upon the hilltops, and many a one has
taken the draught late, and after the announcement has been made to him,
he has eaten and drunk, and indulged in sensual delights; do not hasten
then, there is still time.
Socrates said: Yes, Crito, and they of whom you speak are right in doing
thus, for they think that they will gain by the delay; but I am right in
not doing thus, for I do not think that I should gain anything by
drinking the poison a little later; I should be sparing and saving a
life which is already gone: I could only laugh at myself for this.
Please then to do as I say, and not to refuse me.
Crito, when he heard this, made a sign to the servant, and the servant
went in, and remained for some time, and then returned with the jailer
carrying a cup of poison. Socrates said: You, my good friend, who are
experienced in these matters, shall give me directions how I am to
proceed. The man answered: You have only to walk about until your legs
are heavy, and then to lie down, and the poison will act. At the same
time he handed the cup to Socrates, who in the easiest and gentlest
manner, without the least fear or change of color or feature, looking at
the man with all his eyes, Echecrates, as his manner was, took the cup
and said: What do you say about making a libation out of this cup to any
god? May I, or not? The man answered: We only prepare, Socrates, just so
much as we deem enough. I understand, he said: yet I may and must pray
to the gods to prosper my journey from this to that other world -- may
this, then, which is my prayer, be granted to me. Then holding the cup
to his lips, quite readily and cheerfully he drank off the poison. And
hitherto most of us had been able to control our sorrow; but now when we
saw him drinking, and saw too that he had finished the draught, we could
no longer forbear, and in spite of myself my own tears were flowing
fast; so that I covered my face and wept over myself, for certainly I
was not weeping over him, but at the thought of my own calamity in
having lost such a companion. Nor was I the first, for Crito, when he
found himself unable to restrain his tears, had got up and moved away,
and I followed; and at that moment. Apollodorus, who had been weeping
all the time, broke out in a loud cry which made cowards of us all.
Socrates alone retained his calmness: What is this strange outcry? he
said. I sent away the women mainly in order that they might not offend
in this way, for I have heard that a man should die in peace. Be quiet,
then, and have patience.
When we heard that, we were ashamed, and refrained our tears; and he
walked about until, as he said, his legs began to fail, and then he lay
on his back, according to the directions, and the man who gave him the
poison now and then looked at his feet and legs; and after a while he
pressed his foot hard and asked him if he could feel; and he said, no;
and then his leg, and so upwards and upwards, and showed us that he was
cold and stiff. And he felt them himself, and said: When the poison
reaches the heart, that will be the end. He was beginning to grow cold
about the groin, when he uncovered his face, for he had covered himself
up, and said (they were his last words) -- he said: Crito, I owe a cock
to Asclepius; will you remember to pay the debt? The debt shall be paid,
said Crito; is there anything else? There was no answer to this
question; but in a minute or two a movement was heard, and the
attendants uncovered him; his eyes were set, and Crito closed his eyes
and mouth.
Such was the death, Echecrates, of our friend, of whom I may truly say,
that, of all the men whom I have ever known, he was the wisest, and
justest, and best. 1
1. Reworded from Jowett's translation, by the editor, for emphasis.
