e joys of the blest--these words of mine, with which I
comforted you and myself, have had, as I perceive, no effect upon
Crito. And therefore I want you to be surety for me now, as he was
surety for me at the trial: but let the promise be of another sort;
for he was my surety to the judges that I would remain, but you must
be my surety to him that I shall not remain, but go away and depart;
and then he will suffer less at my death, and not be grieved when he
sees my body being burned or buried. I would not have him sorrow at my
hard lot, or say at the burial, 'Thus we lay out Socrates,' or, 'Thus
we follow him to the grave or bury him'; for false words are not only
evil in themselves, but they infect the soul with evil. Be of good
cheer then, my dear Crito, and say that you are burying my body only,
and do with that as is usual, and as you think best."

When he had spoken these words, he arose and told us to wait until he
went into the bath-chamber with Crito; and we waited, talking and
thinking of the subject of discourse, and also of the greatness of
our sorrow: he was like a father of whom we were being bereaved, and
we were about to pass the rest of our lives as orphans. When he had
taken the bath, his children were brought to him--(he had two young
sons and an elder one); and the women of his family also came, and he
talked to them and gave them a few directions in the presence of
Crito; and he then dismissed them and returned to us.

Now the hour of sunset was near, for a good deal of time had passed
while he was within. When he came out, he sat down with us again after
his bath, but not much was said. Soon the jailer, who was the servant
of the eleven, entered and stood by him, saying: "To you, Socrates,
whom I 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 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