by this
circumstance to make the natural remark that 'pleasure follows pain.'
(Observe that Plato is preparing the way for his doctrine of the
alternation of opposites.) 'Aesop would have represented them in a fable
as a two-headed creature of the gods.' The mention of Aesop reminds
Cebes of a question which had been asked by Evenus the poet (compare
Apol.): 'Why Socrates, who was not a poet, while in prison had been
putting Aesop into verse?'--'Because several times in his life he had
been warned in dreams that he should practise music; and as he was about
to die and was not certain of what was meant, he wished to fulfil the
admonition in the letter as well as in the spirit, by writing verses as
well as by cultivating philosophy. Tell this to Evenus; and say that I
would have him follow me in death.' 'He is not at all the sort of man
to comply with your request, Socrates.' 'Why, is he not a philosopher?'
'Yes.' 'Then he will be willing to die, although he will not take his
own life, for that is held to be unlawful.'

Cebes asks why suicide is thought not to be right, if death is to be
accounted a good? Well, (1) according to one explanation, because man is
a prisoner, who must not open the door of his prison and run away--this
is the truth in a 'mystery.' Or (2) rather, because he is not his own
property, but a possession of the gods, and has no right to make away
with that which does not belong to him. But why, asks Cebes, if he is a
possession of the gods, should he wish to die and leave them? For he is
under their protection; and surely he cannot take better care of himself
than they take of him. Simmias explains that Cebes is really referring
to Socrates, whom they think too unmoved at the prospect of leaving the
gods and his friends. Socrates answers that he is going to other gods
who are wise and good, and perhaps to better friends; and he professes
that he is ready to defend himself against the charge of Cebes.
The company shall be his judges, and he hopes that he will be more
successful in convincing them than he had been in convincing the court.

The philosopher desires death--which the wicked world will insinuate
that he also deserves: and perhaps he does, but not in any sense which
they are capable of understanding. Enough of them: the real question
is, What is the nature of that death which he desires? Death is
the separation of soul and body--and the philosopher desires such
a separation. He would like t