The Last Days of Socrates

by Plato

  This happened while we were still under a democracy. When the oligarchy came into power, the Thirty Commissioners in their turn summoned me and four others to the Round Chamber56 and instructed us to go and fetch Leon of Salamis from his home for execution. This was of course only one of many instances in which they issued such instructions, their object being to implicate as many people as possible in their crimes. On this occasion, however, I again made it clear, not by (d) my words but by my actions, that the attention57 I paid to death was zero (if that is not too unrefined a claim); but that I gave all my attention to avoiding doing anything unjust or unholy. Powerful as it was, that government did not terrify me into doing awrong action; when we came out of the Round Chamber the other four went off to Salamis and arrested Leon,58 and I went home. (e) I should probably have been put to death for this, if the government had not fallen soon afterwards. There are plenty of people who will testify to these statements.

  A transitional passage (somewhat dogmatic and rhetorical) leads into further consideration of the effect that Socrates has had upon young men. Socrates explains why he has always made himself freely available to them, and observes that Meletus has failed to call any of his followers – or their relatives – as witnesses to the corruption charge.

  Do you suppose that I should have lived as long as I have if I had moved in the sphere of public life, and conducting myself in that sphere like an honourable man, had always upheld the cause of right, and conscientiously set this end above all other things? Not by a very long way, gentlemen; neither would any 33(a) other man. You will find that throughout my life I have been consistent in any public duties that I have performed, and the same also in my personal dealings: I have never countenanced any action that was incompatible with justice on the part of any person, including those whom some people maliciously call my pupils. I have never set up as any man’s teacher; but if anyone, young or old, is eager to hear me conversing and carrying out my private mission, I never grudge him the opportunity; nor do I charge a fee for talking to him, and refuse to talk without one; I (b) am ready to answer questions for rich and poor alike, and I am equally ready if anyone prefers to listen to what I have to say and answer my questions. If any given one of these people becomes a good citizen or a bad one, I cannot with justice be held responsible, since I have never promised or imparted any teaching to anybody; and if anyone asserts that he has ever learned or heard from me privately anything which was not open to everyone else, you may be quite sure that he is not telling the truth.

  But how is it that some people enjoy spending a great deal of (c) time in my company? You have heard the reason, gentlemen; I told you quite frankly. It is because they enjoy hearing me examine those who think that they are wise when they are not; an experience which has its amusing side. This duty I have accepted, as I said, in obedience to God’s commands given in oracles and dreams and in every way that any other divine dispensation has ever impressed a duty upon man.59 This is a true statement, gentlemen, and easy to verify. If it is a fact that I am in the process of corrupting some of the young, and have succeeded already in corrupting others; (d) and if it were a fact that some of the latter, being now grown up, had discovered that I had ever given them bad advice when they were young, surely they ought now to be coming forward to denounce and punish me; and if they did not like to do it themselves, you would expect some of their families – their fathers and brothers and other near relations – to remember it now, if their own flesh and blood had suffered any harm from me. (e) Certainly a great many of them have found their way into this court, as I can see for myself: first Crito60 over there, my contemporary and near neighbour, the father of this young man Critobulus; and then Lysanias of Sphettus, the father of Aeschines61 here; and next Antiphon of Cephisia, over there, the father of Epigenes. Then besides there are all those whose brothers have been members of our circle: Nicostratus the son of Theozotides, the brother of Theodotus – but Theodotus is dead, so he cannot appeal to his brother – and Paralius here, the son of Demodocus; his brother was Theages.62 And here is 34(a) Adimantus63 the son of Ariston, whose brother Plato is over there; and Aeantodorus, whose brother Apollodorus64 is here on this side. I can name many more besides, some of whom Meletus most certainly ought to have produced as witnesses in the course of his speech. If he forgot to do so then, let him do it now – I’ll make a concession; let him state whether he has any such evidence to offer. On the contrary, gentlemen, you will find that they are all prepared to help me – the corrupter and evil genius of their nearest and dearest relatives, as Meletus and Anytus say. The actual victims of my corrupting influence might (b) perhaps be excused for helping me; but as for the uncorrupted, their relations of mature age, what other reason can they have for helping me except the just and proper one, that they know Meletus is lying and I am telling the truth?

  Socrates excuses himself from the common practice of making pitiful appeals to the jurors. He does so on three grounds: that it would be dishonourable, that it would be inviting injustice, and that in inviting an unjust decision contrary to the juryman’s oath, it would be impious. Being impious, he observes, it would be the way of one who does not believe in the gods. Socrates’ tone has become that of a moral campaigner, lecturing the Athenians about their discreditable court practices. Socrates, on trial for his life, is virtually condemning the de facto procedures of the Athenian courts!

  There, gentlemen: that, and perhaps a little more to the same effect, is the substance of what I can say in my defence. It may (c) be that some one of you, remembering his own case, will be annoyed that whereas he, in standing his trial upon a less serious charge than this, made pitiful appeals to the jury with floods of tears, and had his infant children produced in court to excite the maximum of sympathy, and many of his relatives and friends as well, I on the contrary intend to do nothing of the sort, and that although I am facing (as it might appear) the utmost danger. It may be that one of you, reflecting on these facts, will harden himself against me, and being irritated by his reflections, will (d) give his vote in anger. If one of you is so disposed – I do not expect it of you, but there is the possibility – I think that I should be quite justified in saying to him, ‘My dear sir, of course I have some relatives. To quote the very words of Homer, even I am not sprung “from an oak or from a rock”,65 but from human parents, and consequently I have relatives; yes, and sons too, gentlemen, three of them,66 one almost grown up and the other two only children; but all the same I am not going to produce them here and beseech you to acquit me.’

  (e) Why do I not intend to do anything of this kind? Not out of perversity, gentlemen, nor out of contempt for you; whether I am brave or not in the face of death has nothing to do with it; the point is that for my own credit and yours and for the credit of the state as a whole, I do not think that it is honourable for me to use any of these methods at my age and with my reputation – which may be true or it may be false, but at any rate the view 35(a) is established that Socrates is different from the common run of mankind. Now if those of you who are supposed to be distinguished for wisdom or courage or any other virtue were to behave in this way, it would be a disgrace. I have often noticed that some people of this type, for all their high standing, go to extraordinary lengths when they come up for trial, which shows that they think it will be a dreadful thing to lose their lives; as though they would be immortal if you did not put them to death! In my opinion these people bring disgrace upon our city. Any of our visitors might be excused for thinking that the finest (b) specimens of Athenian manhood, whom their fellow-citizens choose in preference to themselves for archonships and other high positions,67 are no better than women. If you have even the smallest reputation, gentlemen, you ought not to descend to these methods; and if we do so, you must not give us licence. On the contrary, you must make it clear that anyone who stages these pathetic scenes and so brings ridicule upon our city is far more likely to be condemned than if he kept perfectly quiet.

  But
apart from all question of appearances, gentlemen, I do not think that it is just for a man to appeal to the jury or to get (c) himself acquitted by doing so; he ought to inform them of the facts and convince them by argument. The jury does not sit to dispense justice as a favour, but to decide where justice lies; and the oath which they have sworn is not to show favour at their own discretion, but to return a just and lawful verdict. It follows that we must not develop in you, nor you allow to grow in yourselves, the habit of perjury; that would be impious68 for us both. Therefore you must not expect me, gentlemen, to behave towards you in a way which I consider neither reputable nor just nor consistent with my religious duty; and above all you (d) must not expect it when I stand charged with impiety by Meletus here. Surely it is obvious that if I tried to persuade you and prevail upon you by my entreaties to go against your solemn oath, I should be teaching you contempt for religion; and by my very defence I should be virtually accusing myself of having no religious belief. But that is very far from the truth. I have a more sincere belief, gentlemen, than any of my accusers; and I leave it to you and to God to judge me in whatever way shall be best for me and for yourselves.

  The verdict is ‘Guilty’. Socrates, having now been convicted by a comparatively narrow margin of sixty votes, has to propose a penalty as an alternative to the death penalty claimed by the prosecution. He still adheres to some of the bolder theses of his defence speech, something which Plato is able to use to draw the threads of his picture of Socrates together. But the jurors would probably have been dismayed to see how little his attitude has changed. Socrates argues that he deserves to be sentenced to dining at public expense like victors at the Games. After firmly rejecting prison or exile, he offers a fine, firstly one within his means, and secondly thirty times that after his friends offer to help.

  (e) There are a great many reasons, gentlemen, why I am not 36(a) distressed by this result – I mean your condemnation of me – but the chief reason is that the result was not unexpected. What does surprise me is the number of votes cast on the two sides. I should never have believed that it would be such a close thing; but now it seems that if a mere thirty votes69 had gone the other way, I should have been acquitted. Even as it is, I feel that so far as Meletus’s part is concerned I have been acquitted; and not only that, but anyone can see that if Anytus and Lycon had (b) not come forward to accuse me, Meletus would actually have lost a thousand drachmae for not having obtained one fifth of the votes.70

  However, we must face the fact that he demands the death penalty. Very good. What alternative penalty shall I propose to you, gentlemen? Obviously it must be what’s deserved. Well, what penalty do I deserve to pay or suffer, in view of what I have done?

  I have never lived an ordinary quiet life. I did not care for the things that most people care about: making money, having a comfortable home, high military or civil rank, and all the other activities – political appointments, secret societies, party organizations – which go on in our city; I thought that I was really (c) too fair-minded to survive if I went in for this sort of thing. So instead of taking a course which would have done no good either to you or to me, I set myself to do you individually in private what I hold to be the greatest possible service: I tried to persuade each one of you not to think more of practical advantages than of his mental and moral well-being, or in general to think more of advantage than of well-being, in the case of the State or of anything else. What do I deserve for behaving in this way? Some reward, gentlemen, if I am bound to suggest what I really deserve; and what is more, a reward which would be appropriate for myself. (d) Well, what is appropriate for a poor man who is a public benefactor and who requires leisure for the purpose of giving you moral encouragement? Nothing could be more appropriate for such a person than free dining in the Prytaneum.71 He deserves it much more than any victor in the races at Olympia, whether he wins with a single horse or a pair or a team of four. (e) These people give you the semblance of success, but I give you the reality; they do not need maintenance, but I do. So if I am to suggest an appropriate penalty which is strictly in accordance with justice, I suggest 37(a) free maintenance by the State.

  Perhaps when I say this I may give you the impression, as I did in my remarks about exciting sympathy and making passionate appeals, that I am showing a stubborn perversity. That is not so, gentlemen; the real position is this. I am convinced that I never wrong anyone intentionally, but I cannot convince you of this, because we have had so little time for discussion. If it was your practice, as it is with other nations, to give not one day but several to the hearing of capital trials, I believe that you might have been convinced; but under present conditions it is not easy (b) to dispose of grave allegations in a short space of time. So being convinced that I do no wrong to anybody, I can hardly be expected to wrong myself by asserting that I deserve something bad, or by proposing a corresponding penalty.72 Why should I? For fear of suffering this penalty proposed by Meletus, when, as I said, I do not know whether it is a good thing or a bad? Do you expect me to choose something which I know very well is bad by making my counter-proposal? Imprisonment? Why (c) should I spend my days in prison, in subjection to whichever Eleven hold office?73 A fine, with imprisonment until it is paid? In my case the effect would be just the same, because I have no money to pay a fine. Or shall I suggest banishment? You would very likely accept the suggestion.74

  I should have to be desperately in love with life to do that, gentlemen. I am not so blind that I cannot see that you, my fellow-citizens, have come to the end of your patience with my discussions and conversations; you have found them too (d) irksome and irritating, and now you are trying to get rid of them. Will any other people find them easy to put up with? That is most unlikely, gentlemen. (e) A fine life I should have if I left this country at my age and spent the rest of my days trying one city after another and being turned out every time! I know very well that wherever I go the young people will listen to my conversation just as they do here; and if I try to keep them off, they themselves will prevail upon their elders and have me thrown out, while if I do not, the fathers and other relatives will drive me out of their own accord for the sake of the young.

  Perhaps someone may say, ‘But surely, Socrates, after you have left us you can spend the rest of your life in quietly minding your own business.’ This is the hardest thing of all to make some of you understand. If I say that this would be disobedience to God, and that is why I cannot ‘mind my own business’, you will 38(a) not believe me – you’ll think I’m pulling your leg.75 If on the other hand I tell you that to let no day pass without discussing goodness and all the other subjects about which you hear me talking and examining both myself and others is really the very best thing that a man can do, and that life without this sort of examination is not worth living, you will be even less inclined to believe me. Nevertheless that is how it is, gentlemen, as I (b) maintain; though it is not easy to convince you of it. Besides, I am not accustomed to think of myself as deserving punishment. If I had money, I would have suggested a fine that I could afford, because that would not have done me any harm. As it is, I cannot, because I have none; unless of course you like to fix the penalty at what I could pay. I suppose I could probably afford a hundred drachmae76 and I suggest a fine of that amount.

  One moment, gentlemen. Plato here, and Crito and Critobulus and Apollodorus, want me to propose three thousand drachmae on their security. Very well, I agree to this sum, and you can rely upon these gentlemen for its payment.77

  The penalty is death. Socrates converses with the jurymen after being sentenced by an increased majority of jurors (over two-thirds) to death rather than a fine.

  Well, gentlemen, for the sake of a very small gain in time you (c) are going to earn the reputation – and the blame from those who wish to disparage our city – of having put Socrates to death, ‘that wise man’, because they will say I am wise even if I am not, these people who want to find fault with you. If you had waited just a little wh
ile, you would have had your way in the course of nature. You can see that I am well on in life and near to death. I am saying this not to all of you but to those who voted for my (d) execution, and I have something else to say to them as well.

  No doubt you think, gentlemen, that I have been condemned for lack of the arguments which I could have used if I had thought it right to leave nothing unsaid or undone to secure my acquittal. But that is very far from the truth. It is not a lack of arguments that has caused my condemnation, but a lack of effrontery and impudence,78 and the fact that I have refused to address you in the way which would give you most pleasure. (e) You would have liked to hear me weep and wail, doing and saying all sorts of things which I declare to be unworthy of myself, but which you are used to hearing from other people. But I did not think then that I ought to stoop to servility because I was in danger, and I do not regret now the way in which I pleaded my case; I would much rather die as the result of this defence than live as the result of the other sort. In a court of law, just as in warfare, neither I nor any other ought to use his 39(a) wits to escape death by any means. In battle it is often obvious that you could escape being killed by giving up your arms and throwing yourself upon the mercy of your pursuers; and in every kind of danger there are plenty of devices for avoiding death if you are unscrupulous enough to stop at nothing. But I suggest, gentlemen, that the difficulty is not so much to escape death; the real difficulty is to escape from wickedness, which is far more fleet of foot. In this present instance I, the slow old man, have (b) been overtaken by the slower of the two, but my accusers, who are clever and quick, have been overtaken by the faster: by iniquity. When I leave this court I shall go away condemned by you to death, but they will go away convicted by Truth herself of depravity and injustice. And they accept their sentence even as I accept mine. No doubt it was bound to be so, and I think that the result is fair enough.