Plato's Crito

Translated by Hugh Tredennick



'A room in the State prison at Athens in the year 399 B.C. The time
is half an hour before dawn and the room would be almost dark
but for the light of a little oil lamp. There is a pallet bed against
the back wall. At the head of it a small table supports the lamp;
near the foot of it CRITO sitting patiently on a stool. He is an
old man, kindly, practical, simple-minded; at present he is suffering
from acute emotional strain. On the bed lies Socrates asleep.
He stirs, yawns, opens his eyes and sees CRITO.'


SOCRATES: Here at this hour, Crito? Surely it's still early?

CRITO: Indeed it is.

SOCRATES: About what time?

CRITO: Just before dawn.

SOCRATES: I wonder that the warder agreed to listen to you.

CRITO: He is used to me now, Socrates, because I come here so
often; besides, he is under some small obligation to me.

SOCRATES: Have you only just come, or have you been here for
long?

CRITO: Quite a while,

SOCRATES: Then why didn't you wake me at once, instead of
sitting in silence by my bed?

CRITO: I wouldn't dream of such a thing, Socrates. I only wish I were
not so sleepless and depressed myself. I have been marvelling at you
all along, seeing how sweetly you were sleeping; and I deliberately
didn't wake you because I wanted you to have the pleasantest possible
time. I have often felt throughout my life how fortunate you are in
the way you handle things, but I feel it more than ever now in your
present misfortune when I see how easy it is for you to take it calmly.

SOCRATES: Well, really, Crito, it would strike an odd chord for a
man of my age to resent having to face death.

CRITO: Other people just as old as you are get involved in these
misfortunes, Socrates, but their age doesn't alleviate their resentment
when they find themselves in your position.

SOCRATES: Quite true. But tell me, why have you come so early?

CRITO: Because I bring bad news, Socrates; not so bad from
your point of view, I suppose, but it will be very hard to bear
for me and your other friends, and I suspect that I shall find it
hardest of all.

SOCRATES: Why, what is this news? Has the boat come in from
Delos - the boat which ends my reprieve when it arrives?

CRITO: It hasn't actually come in yet, but I expect that it will be
here today, judging what some people report - they have just
arrived from Sunium and left it there. It's quite clear from their
account that it will be here today; and so by tomorrow, Socrates,
you will be forced to end your life.

SOCRATES: Well, Crito, I hope that it'll be for the best; if that's
what the gods want, so be it. All the same, I don't think it will
arrive today.

CRITO: What makes you believe that?

SOCRATES: I will try to explain. I think I am right in saying that I
have to die on the day after the boat arrives?

CRITO: Yes, that's what the authorities say.

SOCRATES: Then I don't think it will arrive on this day that is
just beginning, but on the day after. I am going by a dream that I
had this very night, only a little while ago. It looks as though you
were right not to wake me up.

CRITO: Why, what was the dream about?

SOCRATES: I thought I saw a gloriously beautiful woman dressed
in white robes, who came up to me and addressed me in these
words: 'Socrates,

To the pleasant land of Phthia on the third day thou shalt come.'

CRITO: Your dream was a weird one, Socrates.

SOCRATES: To my mind, Crito, it was perfectly clear.

Section B: Crito's arguments. Crito believes that Socrates should
escape because (i) he is endangering the good reputation of his
friends, (ii) he need not worry about any risks these friends may be
running, (iii) nor should he worry about the money needed for an
escape attempt, (iv) there will be good places to go to, where he
can lead an enjoyable life, (v) he is acting unjustly by joining the
efforts of his enemies against himself, (vi) he is acting unjustly by
not striving to fulfil his obligations to his children, and [vii) it
amounts to cowardice to accept this situation without resistance.
Finally Crito returns to theme (i), observing that the cowardice is
going to reflect badly on Socrates' friends as well as himself.

CRITO: Too clear, apparently. But look here, Socrates, it is still
not too late to take my advice and escape. Your death means a
double calamity for me: quite apart from losing a friend whom I
can never possibly replace, I'll have this additional problem, that a
great many people who don't know you and me very well will
think that I let you down, saying that I could have saved you if
I had been willing to spend the money; and what could be
more shameful than to get a name for thinking more of money
than of your friends? Most people will never believe that it was
you who refused to leave this place when we tried our hardest to
persuade you.

SOCRATES: But my dear Crito, why should we pay so much
attention to what 'most people' think? The most sensible people,
who have more claim to be considered, will believe that things
have been done exactly as they have.

CRITO: As you can see for yourself, Socrates, one is obliged to
bear in mind popular opinion as well. Present circumstances are
quite enough to show that the capacity of ordinary people for
doing one harm is not confined to petty annoyances, but has
hardly any limits if you once get a bad name with them.

SOCRATES: I only wish that ordinary people had an unlimited
capacity for doing harm; that would mean they had an unlimited
power for doing good, which would be a splendid thing. In
actual fact they have neither. They cannot make a man wise or
foolish; they achieve whatever luck would have it.

CRITO: Have it that way if you like; but tell me this, Socrates. I
hope that you aren't worrying about the possible effects on me
and the rest of your friends, and thinking that if you escape we
shall have trouble with informers for having helped you to get
away, and have to forfeit all our property or pay an enormous
fine, or even incur some further punishment? If any idea like that
is troubhng you, dismiss it altogether. It's surely right for us to run
that risk in saving you, and even worse, if necessary. Take my
advice, and do as I bid.

SOCRATES: All that you say is very much in my mind, Crito, and
a great deal more besides.

CRITO: Please don't be afraid of these things. Actually it's quite a
moderate sum that certain people want for rescuing you from here
and getting you out of the country. And then surely you realize
how cheap these informers are to buy off; we wouldn't need much
money to settle them. You've got my money at your disposal -
that'll be enough, I think; but supposing that in your anxiety for
my safety you feel that you oughtn't to spend my money, there are
these foreign gentlemen staying in Athens who are quite willing to
spend theirs.' One of them, Simmias of Thebes, has actually
brought enough money with him for this very purpose; and Cebes
and a number of others are quite ready to do the same. So as I say,
you mustn't let any fears like this make you dispirited about
escaping; and you mustn't feel any misgivings like those you
mentioned at your trial, that you wouldn't know what to do with
yourself if you left this country. Wherever you go, there are plenty
of places where you will find a welcome, particularly if you choose
to go to Thessaly - I have friends there who will make much of
you and give you complete protection, so that no one in Thessaly
can interfere with you.

Besides, Socrates, I don't even feel that it is just for you to do
what you are doing, throwing away your life when you might save
it. You are doing your best to treat yourself in exactly the same
way as your enemies would, or rather did, when they wanted to
ruin you. What is more, it seems to me that you are betraying your
sons too. You have it in your power to finish bringing them up
and educating them, and instead of that you're proposing to go off
and desert them, and so far as you are concerned they'll be left to
get along as the whim of fortune determines. They will probably
have the kind of luck that usually comes to orphans when they
lose their parents. Either one ought not to have children at all, or
one ought to see their upbringing and education through to the
end, but it strikes me that you are taking the most irresponsible
course. You ought to make the choice of a good man and a brave
one, considering that you profess to have made goodness your
principal concern all through life. Really, I am ashamed, both on
your account and on ours your friends'; it will look as though we
had played something like a coward's part all through this affair
of yours. First there was the way you came into court when it was
quite unnecessary - that was the first act; then there was the
conduct of the defence - that was the second; and finally, to
complete the farce, we get this situation, which makes it appear
that we have let you slip out of our hands through some lack of
courage and enterprise on our part, because we didn't save you,
and you didn't save yourself, when it would have been quite
possible and practicable, if we had been any use at all.
There, Socrates; if you aren't careful, besides the harm there
will be all this disgrace for you and us to bear. Come, make your
plans. Really it's past the time for that now; the decision should
have been made already. There is only one plan - the whole thing
must be carried through during this coming night. If we lose any
more time, it can't be done, it will be too late. I appeal to you,
Socrates, on every ground; take my advice and please do as I say!

Section C: Socrates begins his reply by going over long-standing
points of Socratic philosophy. (i) One should always take expert
advice rather than majority advice, (ii) since the soul is more
important than the body, this applies particularly in matters concerned
with the well-being of the soul, and (iii) one should never
under any circumstances commit an act of injustice. Points (i) and
(ii) have the effect of answering more fully Crito's complaints that
the ordinary folk will blame Socrates' friends for the disgraceful
circumstances surrounding his death: for the moment, however,
the question of where justice lies is left aside.

SOCRATES: My dear Crito, I would greatly appreciate your
enthusiasm if it is right and proper; if not, the stronger it is, the
more of a problem it is. Therefore we should consider whether
we ought to follow your advice or not; my attitude is not unpre-
cedented,for it's always been my nature never to accept advice
from any of my 'friends' except the argument that seems best on
reflection. I cannot abandon the arguments which I used to expound
in the past simply because this accident has happened to
me; their conclusions seem to me to be much as they were, and I
respect and value the same arguments now as before. So unless we
can find better ones on this occasion, you can be quite sure that I
shall not agree with you; not even if the power of the people conjures
up fresh hordes of bogies to terrify our childish minds, by subjecting
us to chains and executions and confiscations of our property.
Well, then, how can we consider the question most reasonably?
Suppose that we begin by reverting to your point about people's
opinions." Was it always right to argue that some opinions should
be taken seriously but not others? Or was it always wrong?" d
Perhaps it was right before the question of my death arose, but
now we can see clearly that we were pointlessly persisting in a
theory which was really childish nonsense. I should like very much
to inquire into this problem, Crito, with your help, and to see
whether the argument will appear in any different light to me now
that I am in this position, or whether it will remain the same; and
whether we shall dismiss it or accept it.

People with something to say, I believe, have always stated
some such view as the one which I mentioned just now: that some
of the opinions which people entertain should be taken seriously,
and others not. Now I ask you, Crito, don't you think this is a fair
proposition? - You are safe from the prospect of dying tomorrow,
in all human probability; and you are not likely to have your
judgement upset by this impending calamity. Consider, then;
don't you think that it is good enough to say that one should not
value all the opinions that people hold, but only some and not
others? What do you say? Isn't that a fair statement?

CRITO: Fair enough.

SOCRATES: In other words, one should regard the sound ones
and not the flawed?

CRITO: Yes.

SOCRATES: The opinions of the wise being sound, and the
opinions of the foolish flawed?

CRITO: Naturally.

SOCRATES: To pass on, then: what do you think of the sort of
illustration that I used to employ? When a man is in training, and
taking it seriously, does he pay attention to all praise and criticism
and opinion indiscriminately, or only when it comes from the one
qualified person, the actual doctor or trainer?

CRITO: Only when it comes from the one quahfed person.

SOCRATES: Then he should be afraid of the criticism and welcome
the praise of the one qualified person, but not those of the general
public.

CRITO: Obviously.

SOCRATES: So he ought to regulate his actions and exercises and
eating and drinking by the judgement of his instructor, who has
expert knowledge, rather than by the opinions of all the rest put together.

CRITO: That is so.

SOCRATES: Very well. Now if he disobeys the one man and disregards
his opinion and commendations, and prefers the advice of the many
who have no expert knowledge, surely he will suffer some bad effect?

CRITO: Certainly.

SOCRATES: And what is this bad effect? Where is its impact? - I
mean, in what part of the disobedient person?

CRITO: His body, obviously; that is what's ruined,

SOCRATES: Very good. Well now, tell me, Crito - we don't want
to go through all the examples one by one - does this apply as a
general rule, and above all to the issues which we are trying now
to resolve: just and unjust, honourable and dishonourable, good
and bad? Ought we to be guided and intimidated by the opinion of
the many or by that of the one - assuming that there is someone
with expert knowledge? Is it true that we ought to respect and fear
this person more than all the rest put together; and that if we do
not follow his guidance we shall spoil and impair that part of us
which, as we used to say, is improved by just conduct and ruined
by unjust? Or is this all nonsense?

CRITO: No, I think it is true, Socrates.

SOCRATES: Then consider the next step. There is a part of us
which is improved by healthy actions and ruined by unhealthy
ones. If we completely wreck it by taking advice contrary to that
of the experts, will life be worth living when this part is once
ruined? The part I mean is the body; do you accept this?

CRITO: Yes.

SOCRATES: Well, is life worth living with a body which is worn
out and ruined?

CRITO: Certainly not.

SOCRATES: What about the part of us which is impaired by
unjust actions and benefited by just ones? Is life worth living with
this part ruined? Or do we believe that this part of us, whatever it
may be, with which justice and injustice are concerned, is of less
importance than the body?

CRITO: Certainly not.

SOCRATES: It is really more precious?

CRITO: Much more.

SOCRATES: In that case, my dear fellow, what we ought to worry
about is not so much what people in general will say about us but
what the expert in justice and injustice says, the single authority
and with him the truth itself. So in the first place your proposal
is not well-founded when you claim that we must consider popular
opinion about what is just and honourable and good, or the oppo-
site. 'But all the same,' one might object, 'the people have the
power to put us to death.'

CRITO: That's clear enough! It would be said, Socrates; you're b
quite right.

SOCRATES: But so far as I can see, my dear fellow, the argument
which we have just been through is quite unaffected by it. At the
same time I should like you to consider whether we still agree on
this point: that the really important thing is not to live, but to live
well.

CRITO: Agreed.

SOCRATES: And is it still agreed or not that to live well amounts
to the same thing as to live honourably and justly?

CRITO: Yes.

SOCRATES: Then in the light of this admission we must consider
whether or not it is just for me to try to get away without being
released by the Athenians. If it turns out to be just, we must make
the attempt; if not, we must drop it. As for the considerations you
raise about expense and reputation and bringing up children, I am
afraid, Crito, that these are the concerns of the ordinary public,
who think nothing of putting people to death, and would bring
them back to life if they could, with equal indifference to
reason. Our real task, I fancy, since the argument leads that way,
is to consider one question only, the one which we raised just
now: shall we be acting justly in paying money and showing
gratitude to these people who are going to rescue me, and in
escaping or arranging the escape ourselves, or shall we really be
acting unjustly in doing all this? If it becomes clear that such
conduct is unjust, I cannot help thinking that the question whether
we are sure to die, or to suffer any other ill-effect for that matter,
if we stand our ground and take no action, ought not to weigh
with us at all in comparison with the risk of acting unjustly.

CRITO: I agree with what you say, Socrates; now consider what
we are to do.

SOCRATES: Let us look at it together, Crito; and if you can
challenge any of my arguments, do so and I will listen to you; but
if you can't, be a good fellow and stop telling me over and over
again that I ought to leave this place without official permission. I
am very anxious to obtain your approval before I adopt the course
which I have in mind; I don't want to act against your convictions.
Now give your attention to the starting point of this inquiry if you
are happy with the way I've put it, and try to answer my questions
to the best of your judgement.

CRITO: Well, I will try.

SOCRATES: Do we say that there is no way that one must ever
willingly commit injustice, or does it depend upon circumstance?
Is it true, as we have often agreed before, that there is no sense in
which an act of injustice is good or honourable? Or have we
jettisoned all our former convictions in these last few days? Can
you and I at our age, Crito, have spent all these years in serious
b discussions without realizing that we were no better than a pair of
children? Surely the truth is just what we have always said. Whatever
the popular view is, and whether the consequence is pleasanter
than this or even tougher, the fact remains that to commit mjustice
is in every case bad and dishonourable for the person who does it.
Is that our view, or not?

CRITO: Yes, it is.

SOCRATES: Then in no circumstances must one do wrong.

CRITO: No.

SOCRATES: In that case one must not even return injustice when
one is wronged, which most people regard as the natural course.

CRITO: Apparently not.

SOCRATES: Tell me another thing, Crito: ought one to inflict
injuries or not?

CRITO: Surely not, Socrates.

SOCRATES: And tell me: is it right to inflict an injury in retaliation,
as most people believe, or not?

CRITO: No, never.

SOCRATES: Because, I suppose, there is no difference between
injuring people and doing them an injustice?

CRITO: Exactly.

SOCRATES: So one ought not to return an injustice or an injury to
any person, whatever the provocation. Now be careful, Crito, that
in making these single admissions you do not end by admitting
something contrary to your real beliefs. I know that there are and
always will be few people who think like this; and consequently
between those who do think so and those who do not there can be
no shared deliberation; they must always feel contempt when they
observe one another's decision, I want even you to consider very
carefully whether you share my views and agree with me, and
whether we can proceed with our discussion from the established
hypothesis that it is never right to commit injustice or return
injustice or defend one's self against injury by retaliation; or
whether you dissociate yourself from any share in this view as a
basis for discussion. I have held it for a long time, and still hold
it; but if you have formed any other opinion, say so and tell me
what it is. If, on the other hand, you stand by what we have said,
listen to my next point.

CRITO: Yes, I stand by it and agree with you. Go on.

SOCRATES: Well, here is my next point, or rather question.
Ought one to fulfil all one's agreements, provided that they are
just, or break them?

CRITO: One ought to fulfil them.

SOCRATES: Then consider the logical consequence. If we leave
this place without first persuading the state to let us go, are we
or are we not doing an injury, and doing it to those we've least
excuse for injuring? Are we or are we not abiding by our just a-
greements?

CRITO: I can't answer your question, Socrates; I am not clear in
my mind.

Section D1: Socrates introduces the voice of the Laws of Athens,
who persuade him that justice requires him to stay and face death.
They claim that escaping would be unjust because (i) it would con-
stitute a step towards their own destruction, and (ii) there is an
agreement between him and the Laws, akin to that between a son
and his parents and of even greater weight, requiring filial obedience
on his part in return for the upbringing they have given him.
Such obedience is demanded irrespective of the inconvenience and
dangers which he may face. He may try to persuade them of the
justice of his case, but if he fails it is his duty to obey. To what
extent arguments (i) and (ii) are separable is a matter of controversy.
Bostock (1990) takes the view that they are, and whereas he
sees little authoritarianism in (i), because only one law clearly
overrides individual freedoms, namely the law requiring court
verdicts to be carried out, he sees little hope of rescuing Plato from
charges of general authoritarianism in relation to (ii). As Allen
(1980, p.82) notes, the Laws' language is that of a speech, which
though at times majestic and authoritative, is nevertheless tempered
with an intimacy and concern for their 'child'.

SOCRATES: Look at it in this way. Suppose that while we were
preparing to run away from here (or however one should describe
it) the Laws and communal interest of Athens were to come and
confront us with this question: 'Now, Socrates, what are you
proposing to do? Can you deny that by this act which you are
contemplating you intend, so far as you have the power, to
destroy us, the Laws, and the whole State as well? Do you
imagine that a city can continue to exist and not be turned upside
down, if the legal judgements which are pronounced in it have no
force but are nullified and destroyed by private persons?' - How
shall we answer this question, Crito, and others of the same kind?
There is much that could be said, especially by an orator, to
protest at the abolition of this law which requires that judgements
once pronounced shall be binding. Shall we say, 'Yes: the State is
guilty of an injustice against me, you see, by passing a faulty
judgement at my trial'? Is this to be our answer, or what?

CRITO: What you have said, certainly, Socrates.

SOCRATES: Then what if the Laws say, 'Was there provision for
this in the agreement between you and us, Socrates? Or did you
undertake to abide by whatever judgements the State pronounced?'
If we expressed surprise at such language, they would probably
say: 'Don't be surprised at what we say, Socrates, but answer our
questions; after all, you are accustomed to the method of question
and answer. Come now, what charge do you bring against us and
the State, that you are trying to destroy us? Did we not give you
life in the first place? Was it not through us that your father
married your mother and brought you into this world? Tell us,
have you any complaint against those of us Laws that deal with
marriage?' 'No, none,' I should say. 'Well, have you any against
the Laws which deal with children's upbringing and education,
such as you had yourself? Are you not grateful to those of us Laws
which were put in control of this, for requiring your father to give
you an education in music and gymnastics?' 'Yes', I should say.
'Very good. Then since you have been born and brought up and
educated, can you deny, in the first place, that you were our child
and slave, both you and your ancestors? And if this is so, do you
imagine that your rights and ours are on a par, and that whatever
we try to do to you, you are justified in retaliating? Though you
did not have equality of rights with your father, or master if you
had one, to enable you to retaliate, and you were not allowed to
answer back when you were scolded nor to hit back when you 51 a
were beaten, nor to do a great many other things of the same kind,
will you be permitted to do it to your country and its Laws, so
that if we try to put you to death in the belief that it is just to do
so, you on your part will try your hardest to destroy your country
and us its Laws in return? And will you, the true devotee of
goodness, claim that you are justified in doing so? Are you so wise
as to have forgotten that compared with your mother and father
and all the rest of your ancestors your country is something far
more precious, more venerable, more sacred, and held in greater b
honour both among gods and among all reasonable men? Do you
not realize that you are even more bound to respect and placate
the anger of your country than your father's anger? That you must
either persuade your country or do whatever it orders, and patiently
submit to any punishment that it imposes, whether it be
flogging or imprisonment? And if it leads you out to war, to be
wounded or killed, you must comply, and it is just that this
should be so — you must not give way or retreat or abandon your
position. Both in war and in the lawcourts and everywhere else
you must do whatever your city and your country commands, or
else persuade it that justice is on your side; but violence against
mother or father is an unholy act and it is a far greater sin
against your country.' - What shall we say to this, Crito? That
what the Laws say is true, or not?

CRITO: Yes, I think so.

Section D2: The Laws go on to explain that Socrates has freely
validated their agreement with him by remaining in the city - and
doing so more consistently than other individuals.

SOCRATES: 'Consider, then, Socrates,' the Laws would probably
continue, 'whether it is also true for us to claim that what you are
now trying to do to us is not just. Although we have brought you
into the world and reared you and educated you, and given you
and all your fellow-citizens a share in all the good things at our
disposal, nevertheless by the very fact of granting our permission
we openly proclaim this principle: that any Athenian, on attaining
to manhood and seeing for himself the political organization of
the State and us its Laws, is permitted, if he is not satisfied with
us, to take his property and go away wherever he likes. If anyone
of you chooses to go to one of our colonies, supposing that he
should not be satisfied with us and the State, or to emigrate to any
other country, not one of us Laws hinders or prevents him from
going away wherever he likes, without any loss of property. On
the other hand, if any one of you stands his ground when he can
see how we administer justice and the rest of our public organi-
zation, we hold that by so doing he has in fact undertaken to do
anything that we tell him; and we maintain that anyone who
disobeys is guilty of doing wrong on three separate counts: first
because we brought him into this world, and secondly because we
reared him; and thirdly because, after promising obedience, he is
neither obeying us nor persuading us to change our decision if we
are at fault in any way; and although we set a choice before him
and do not issue savage commands, giving him the choice of either
persuading us or doing what we say, he is actually doing neither.
These are the charges, Socrates, to which we say that you too will
be liable if you do what you are contemplating; and you'll not be
the least culpable of the Athenians, but one of the most guilty.' If I
said, 'Why do you say that?' they would no doubt pounce upon
me with perfect justice and point out that there are very few
people in Athens who have entered into this agreement with them
as explicitly as I have. They would say, 'Socrates, we have substan-
tial evidence that you are satisfied with us and with the State.
Compared with all other Athenians, you would not have been so
exceptionally much in residence if it had not been exceptionally
pleasing to you. You have never left the city to attend a festival -
except once to the Isthmus - nor for any other purpose except on
some military expedition; you have never travelled abroad as
other people do, and you have never felt the impulse to acquaint
yourself with another country or other laws; you have been
content with us and with our city. So deliberately have you chosen
us, and undertaken to observe us in all your activities as a citizen,
that you have actually fathered children in it because the city suits
you. Furthermore, even at the time of your trial you could have
proposed the penalty of banishment, if you had chosen to do so;
that is, you could have done then with the sanction of the State
what you are now trying to do without it. But whereas at that
time you made a fine show of your indifference if you had to die,
and in fact preferred death, as you said, to banishment, now you
show no respect for your earlier professions, and no regard for us,
the Laws, whom you are trying to destroy; you are behaving like
the lowest slave, trying to run away in spite of the contracts and
undertakings by which you agreed to act as a member of our
State. Now first answer this question: Are we or are we not
speaking the truth when we say that you have undertaken, in deed
and not in word, to play the role of citizen in obedience to us?'
What are we to say to that, Crito? Are we not bound to admit it?

CRITO: We must, Socrates.

SOCRATES: 'It is a fact, then,' they would say, 'that you are
breaking covenants and undertakings made with us, although you
made them under no compulsion or misunderstanding, and were
not compelled to decide in a limited time; you had seventy
years in which you could have left the country, if you were not
satisfied with us or felt that the agreements were unjust. You did
not choose Sparta or Crete - your favourite models of good
governments - or any other Greek or foreign state; you could not
have absented yourself from the city less if you had been lame or
blind or decrepit in some other way. It is quite obvious that you
outstrip all other Athenians in your satisfaction with this city -
and for us its Laws, for who could be pleased with a city without
its laws? And now, after all this, are you not going to stand by
your agreement? Yes, you are, Socrates, if you will take our
advice; and then you will at least escape being laughed at for
leaving the city.

Section D3: Socrates will achieve nothing by escaping: the stigma
of a law-breaker will attach to him wherever he goes, it will make
a mockery of his past moral views, and it will not help his sons. It
will also put him in a difficult position when he faces the judges of
the Underworld.

'Just consider, what good will you do yourself or your friends if
you breach this agreement and fall short in one of these require-
ments. It is fairly obvious that the risk of being banished and
either losing their citizenship or having their property confiscated
will extend to your friends as well. As for yourself, if you go to
one of the neighbouring states, such as Thebes or Megara which
are both well governed, you will enter them as an enemy to their
constitution, and all good patriots will eye you with suspicion as a
destroyer of laws. You will confirm the opinion of the jurors, so
that they'll seem to have given a correct verdict - for any destroyer
of laws might very well be supposed to have a destructive influence
upon young and foolish human beings. Do you intend, then, to
avoid well-governed states and the most disciplined people? And
if you do, will life be worth living? Or will you approach these
people and have the impudence to converse with them? What
subjects will you discuss, Socrates? The same as here, when you
said that goodness and justice, institutions and laws, are the most
precious possessions of mankind? Do you not think that Socrates
and everything about him will appear in a disreputable light? You
certainly ought to think so. But perhaps you will retire from this
part of the world and go to Crito's friends in Thessaly? There
you'll find disorder and indiscipline, and no doubt they would
enjoy hearing the amusing story of how you managed to run away
from prison by arraying yourself in some costume - putting on a
shepherd's smock or some other conventional runaway's disguise,
and altering your personal appearance. And will no one comment
on the fact that an old man of your age, probably with only a
short time left to live, should dare to cling so greedily to life, at the
price of violating the most stringent laws? Perhaps not, if you
avoid irritating anyone. Otherwise, Socrates, you'll be the object
of a good many humiliating comments. So you will live as the
toady and slave of all the populace, literally 'roistering in
Thessaly', as though you had left this country for Thessaly to
attend a banquet there; and where will your discussions about
justice and other good qualities be then, we should like to know?
'But of course you want to live for your children's sake, so that
you may be able to bring them up and educate them. Indeed! by
first taking them off to Thessaly and making foreigners of them,
so that they'll have that to enjoy too? Or if that is not your
intention, supposing that they are brought up here, will they be
better cared for and educated because of your being alive, even
without you there? Yes, your friends will take care of them. But
will they look after your children if you go away to Thessaly, and
not if you go off to the next world? Surely if those who profess to
be your friends are worth anything, you must believe that they
would care for them.

'No, Socrates; be advised by us who raised you - do not think
more of your children or of your life or of anything else than you
think of what is just; so that when you enter the next world you
may have all this to plead in your defence before the authorities
there. Neither in this world does doing this appear to be any
better, or more just, or more holy - not to you nor to any of your
family - nor will it be better for you when you reach the next
world. As it is, you will leave this place, when you do, as the
victim of a wrong done not by us, the Laws, but by your fellow-
men. But if you leave in that dishonourable way, returning
injustice for injustice and injury for injury,' breaking your agree-
ments and covenants with us, and injuring those whom you least
ought to injure — yourself, your friends, your country, and us —
then you will have to face our anger while you live, and in that
place beyond when our brothers, the Laws of Hades, know that
you have done your best to destroy even us, they will not receive
you with a kindly welcome. Do not take Crito's advice in prefer-
ence to ours.'

That, my dear friend Crito, I do assure you, is what I seem to
hear them saying, just as a mystic seems to hear the strains of
pipes; and the sound of their arguments rings so loudly in my
head that I cannot hear the other side. I warn you that, as my
opinion stands at present, it will be useless to urge a different
view. However, if you think that you will do any good by it, speak
up.

CRITO: No, Socrates, I have nothing to say.

SOCRATES: Then give it up, Crito, and let us follow this
course, since God leads the way.