ument, but into any future
one; either we were incapable of forming a judgment, or there were no
grounds of belief.

ECHECRATES: There I feel with you--by heaven I do, Phaedo, and when you
were speaking, I was beginning to ask myself the same question: What
argument can I ever trust again? For what could be more convincing than
the argument of Socrates, which has now fallen into discredit? That
the soul is a harmony is a doctrine which has always had a wonderful
attraction for me, and, when mentioned, came back to me at once, as my
own original conviction. And now I must begin again and find another
argument which will assure me that when the man is dead the soul
survives. Tell me, I implore you, how did Socrates proceed? Did he
appear to share the unpleasant feeling which you mention? or did he
calmly meet the attack? And did he answer forcibly or feebly? Narrate
what passed as exactly as you can.

PHAEDO: Often, Echecrates, I have wondered at Socrates, but never more
than on that occasion. That he should be able to answer was nothing,
but what astonished me was, first, the gentle and pleasant and approving
manner in which he received the words of the young men, and then his
quick sense of the wound which had been inflicted by the argument, and
the readiness with which he healed it. He might be compared to a general
rallying his defeated and broken army, urging them to accompany him and
return to the field of argument.

ECHECRATES: What followed?

PHAEDO: You shall hear, for I was close to him on his right hand, seated
on a sort of stool, and he on a couch which was a good deal higher.
He stroked my head, and pressed the hair upon my neck--he had a way of
playing with my hair; and then he said: To-morrow, Phaedo, I suppose
that these fair locks of yours will be severed.

Yes, Socrates, I suppose that they will, I replied.

Not so, if you will take my advice.

What shall I do with them? I said.

To-day, he replied, and not to-morrow, if this argument dies and we
cannot bring it to life again, you and I will both shave our locks; and
if I were you, and the argument got away from me, and I could not hold
my ground against Simmias and Cebes, I would myself take an oath, like
the Argives, not to wear hair any more until I had renewed the conflict
and defeated them.

Yes, I said, but Heracles himself is said not to be a match for two.

Summon me then, he said, and I will be your Iolaus until the sun goes
down.