Crito
by
Plato
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
Modified by Antihubris.com
SCENE: The Prison of Socrates.
SOCRATES: Why have you come at this hour, Crito? it must be
quite early.
CRITO: Yes, certainly.
SOCRATES: What is the exact time?
CRITO: The dawn is breaking.
SOCRATES: I wonder that the keeper of the prison would let
you in.
CRITO: He knows me because I often come, Socrates;
moreover. I have done him a kindness.
SOCRATES: And are you only just arrived?
CRITO: No, I came some time ago.
SOCRATES: Then why did you sit and say nothing, instead of
at once awakening me?
CRITO: I should not have liked myself, Socrates, to be in
such great trouble and unrest as you are--indeed I should
not: I have been watching with amazement your peaceful
slumbers; and for that reason I did not awake you, because
I wished to minimize the pain. I have always thought you to
be of a happy disposition; but never did I see anything
like the easy, tranquil manner in which you bear this
calamity.
SOCRATES: Why, Crito, when a man has reached my age he
ought not to be repining at the approach of death.
CRITO: And yet other old men find themselves in similar
misfortunes, and age does not prevent them from repining.
SOCRATES: That is true. But you have not told me why you
come at this early hour.
CRITO: I come to bring you a message which is sad and
painful; not, as I believe, to yourself, but to all of us
who are your friends, and saddest of all to me.
SOCRATES: What? Has the ship come from Delos, on the
arrival of which I am to die?
CRITO: No, the ship has not actually arrived, but she will
probably be here to-day, as persons who have come from
Sunium tell me that they have left her there; and therefore
to-morrow, Socrates, will be the last day of your life.
SOCRATES: Very well, Crito; if such is the will of God, I
am willing; but my belief is that there will be a delay of
a day.
CRITO: Why do you think so?
SOCRATES: I will tell you. I am to die on the day after the
arrival of the ship?
CRITO: Yes; that is what the authorities say.
SOCRATES: But I do not think that the ship will be here
until to-morrow; this I infer from a vision which I had
last night, or rather only just now, when you fortunately
allowed me to sleep.
CRITO: And what was the nature of the vision?
SOCRATES: There appeared to me the likeness of a woman,
fair and comely, clothed in bright raiment, who called to
me and said: O Socrates,
'The third day hence to fertile Phthia shalt thou go.'
(Homer, Il.)
CRITO: What a singular dream, Socrates!
SOCRATES: There can be no doubt about the meaning, Crito, I
think.
CRITO: Yes; the meaning is only too clear. But, oh! my
beloved Socrates, let me entreat you once more to take my
advice and escape. For if you die I shall not only lose a
friend who can never be replaced, but there is another
evil: people who do not know you and me will believe that I
might have saved you if I had been willing to give money,
but that I did not care. Now, can there be a worse disgrace
than this--that I should be thought to value money more
than the life of a friend? For the many will not be
persuaded that I wanted you to escape, and that you
refused.
SOCRATES: But why, my dear Crito, should we care about the
opinion of the many? Good men, and they are the only
persons who are worth considering, will think of these
things truly as they occurred.
CRITO: But you see, Socrates, that the opinion of the many
must be regarded, for what is now happening shows that they
can do the greatest evil to any one who has lost their good
opinion.
SOCRATES: I only wish it were so, Crito; and that the many
could do the greatest evil; for then they would also be
able to do the greatest good-- and what a fine thing this
would be! But in reality they can do neither; for they
cannot make a man either wise or foolish; and whatever they
do is the result of chance.
CRITO: Well, I will not dispute with you; but please to
tell me, Socrates, whether you are not acting out of regard
to me and your other friends: are you not afraid that if
you escape from prison we may get into trouble with the
informers for having stolen you away, and lose either the
whole or a great part of our property; or that even a worse
evil may happen to us? Now, if you fear on our account, be
at ease; for in order to save you, we ought surely to run
this, or even a greater risk; be persuaded, then, and do as
I say.
SOCRATES: Yes, Crito, that is one fear which you mention,
but by no means the only one.
CRITO: Fear not--there are persons who are willing to get
you out of prison at no great cost; and as for the
informers they are far from being exorbitant in their
demands--a little money will satisfy them. My means, which
are certainly ample, are at your service, and if you have a
scruple about spending all mine, here are strangers who
will give you the use of theirs; and one of them, Simmias
the Theban, has brought a large sum of money for this very
purpose; and Cebes and many others are prepared to spend
their money in helping you to escape. I say, therefore, do
not hesitate on our account, and do not say, as you did in
the court (compare Apol.), that you will have a difficulty
in knowing what to do with yourself anywhere else. For men
will love you in other places to which you may go, and not
in Athens only; there are friends of mine in Thessaly, if
you like to go to them, who will value and protect you, and
no Thessalian will give you any trouble. Nor can I think
that you are at all justified, Socrates, in betraying your
own life when you might be saved; in acting thus you are
playing into the hands of your enemies, who are hurrying on
your destruction. And further I should say that you are
deserting your own children; for you might bring them up
and educate them; instead of which you go away and leave
them, and they will have to take their chance; and if they
do not meet with the usual fate of orphans, there will be
small thanks to you. No man should bring children into the
world who is unwilling to persevere to the end in their
nurture and education. But you appear to be choosing the
easier part, not the better and manlier, which would have
been more becoming in one who professes to care for virtue
in all his actions, like yourself. And indeed, I am ashamed
not only of you, but of us who are your friends, when I
reflect that the whole business will be attributed entirely
to our want of courage. The trial need never have come on,
or might have been managed differently; and this last act,
or crowning folly, will seem to have occurred through our
negligence and cowardice, who might have saved you, if we
had been good for anything; and you might have saved
yourself, for there was no difficulty at all. See now,
Socrates, how sad and discreditable are the consequences,
both to us and you. Make up your mind then, or rather have
your mind already made up, for the time of deliberation is
over, and there is only one thing to be done, which must be
done this very night, and if we delay at all will be no
longer practicable or possible; I beseech you therefore,
Socrates, be persuaded by me, and do as I say.
SOCRATES: Dear Crito, your zeal is invaluable, if a right
one; but if wrong, the greater the zeal the greater the
danger; and therefore we ought to consider whether I shall
or shall not do as you say. For I am and always have been
one of those natures who must be guided by reason, whatever
the reason may be which upon reflection appears to me to be
the best; and now that this chance has befallen me, I
cannot repudiate my own words: the principles which I have
hitherto honoured and revered I still honour, and unless we
can at once find other and better principles, I am certain
not to agree with you; no, not even if the power of the
multitude could inflict many more imprisonments,
confiscations, deaths, frightening us like children with
hobgoblin terrors (compare Apol.). What will be the fairest
way of considering the question? Shall I return to your old
argument about the opinions of men?--we were saying that
some of them are to be regarded, and others not. Now were
we right in maintaining this before I was condemned? And
has the argument which was once good now proved to be talk
for the sake of talking--mere childish nonsense? That is
what I want to consider with your help, Crito:--whether,
under my present circumstances, the argument appears to be
in any way different or not; and is to be allowed by me or
disallowed. That argument, which, as I believe, is
maintained by many persons of authority, was to the effect,
as I was saying, that the opinions of some men are to be
regarded, and of other men not to be regarded. Now you,
Crito, are not going to die to-morrow--at least, there is
no human probability of this, and therefore you are
disinterested and not liable to be deceived by the
circumstances in which you are placed. Tell me then,
whether I am right in saying that some opinions, and the
opinions of some men only, are to be valued, and that other
opinions, and the opinions of other men, are not to be
valued. I ask you whether I was right in maintaining this?
CRITO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: The good are to be regarded, and not the bad?
CRITO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And the opinions of the wise are good, and the
opinions of the unwise are evil?
CRITO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And what was said about another matter? Is the
pupil who devotes himself to the practice of gymnastics
supposed to attend to the praise and blame and opinion of
every man, or of one man only--his physician or trainer,
whoever he may be?
CRITO: Of one man only.
SOCRATES: And he ought to fear the censure and welcome the
praise of that one only, and not of the many?
CRITO: Clearly so.
SOCRATES: And he ought to act and train, and eat and drink
in the way which seems good to his single master who has
understanding, rather than according to the opinion of all
other men put together?
CRITO: True.
SOCRATES: And if he disobeys and disregards the opinion and
approval of the one, and regards the opinion of the many
who have no understanding, will he not suffer evil?
CRITO: Certainly he will.
SOCRATES: And what will the evil be, whither tending and
what affecting, in the disobedient person?
CRITO: Clearly, affecting the body; that is what is
destroyed by the evil.
SOCRATES: Very good; and is not this true, Crito, of other
things which we need not separately enumerate? In questions
of just and unjust, fair and foul, good and evil, which are
the subjects of our present consultation, ought we to
follow the opinion of the many and to fear them; or the
opinion of the one man who has understanding? ought we not
to fear and reverence him more than all the rest of the
world: and if we desert him shall we not destroy and injure
that principle in us which may be assumed to be improved by
justice and deteriorated by injustice;--there is such a
principle?
CRITO: Certainly there is, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Take a parallel instance:--if, acting under the
advice of those who have no understanding, we destroy that
which is improved by health and is deteriorated by disease,
would life be worth having? And that which has been
destroyed is--the body?
CRITO: Yes.
SOCRATES: Could we live, having an evil and corrupted body?
CRITO: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: And will life be worth having, if that higher
part of man be destroyed, which is improved by justice and
depraved by injustice? Do we suppose that principle,
whatever it may be in man, which has to do with justice and
injustice, to be inferior to the body?
CRITO: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: More honourable than the body?
CRITO: Far more.
SOCRATES: Then, my friend, we must not regard what the many
say of us: but what he, the one man who has understanding
of just and unjust, will say, and what the truth will say.
And therefore you begin in error when you advise that we
should regard the opinion of the many about just and
unjust, good and evil, honorable and dishonorable.--'Well,'
some one will say, 'but the many can kill us.'
CRITO: Yes, Socrates; that will clearly be the answer.
SOCRATES: And it is true; but still I find with surprise
that the old argument is unshaken as ever. And I should
like to know whether I may say the same of another
proposition--that not life, but a good life, is to be
chiefly valued?
CRITO: Yes, that also remains unshaken.
SOCRATES: And a good life is equivalent to a just and
honorable one--that holds also?
CRITO: Yes, it does.
SOCRATES: From these premisses I proceed to argue the
question whether I ought or ought not to try and escape
without the consent of the Athenians: and if I am clearly
right in escaping, then I will make the attempt; but if
not, I will abstain. The other considerations which you
mention, of money and loss of character and the duty of
educating one's children, are, I fear, only the doctrines
of the multitude, who would be as ready to restore people
to life, if they were able, as they are to put them to
death--and with as little reason. But now, since the
argument has thus far prevailed, the only question which
remains to be considered is, whether we shall do rightly
either in escaping or in suffering others to aid in our
escape and paying them in money and thanks, or whether in
reality we shall not do rightly; and if the latter, then
death or any other calamity which may ensue on my remaining
here must not be allowed to enter into the calculation.
CRITO: I think that you are right, Socrates; how then shall
we proceed?
SOCRATES: Let us consider the matter together, and do you
either refute me if you can, and I will be convinced; or
else cease, my dear friend, from repeating to me that I
ought to escape against the wishes of the Athenians: for I
highly value your attempts to persuade me to do so, but I
may not be persuaded against my own better judgment. And
now please to consider my first position, and try how you
can best answer me.
CRITO: I will.
SOCRATES: Are we to say that we are never intentionally to
do wrong, or that in one way we ought and in another way we
ought not to do wrong, or is doing wrong always evil and
dishonorable, as I was just now saying, and as has been
already acknowledged by us? Are all our former admissions
which were made within a few days to be thrown away? And
have we, at our age, been earnestly discoursing with one
another all our life long only to discover that we are no
better than children? Or, in spite of the opinion of the
many, and in spite of consequences whether better or worse,
shall we insist on the truth of what was then said, that
injustice is always an evil and dishonour to him who acts
unjustly? Shall we say so or not?
CRITO: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then we must do no wrong?
CRITO: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: Nor when injured injure in return, as the many
imagine; for we must injure no one at all? (E.g. compare
Rep.)
CRITO: Clearly not.
SOCRATES: Again, Crito, may we do evil?
CRITO: Surely not, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And what of doing evil in return for evil, which
is the morality of the many--is that just or not?
CRITO: Not just.
SOCRATES: For doing evil to another is the same as injuring
him?
CRITO: Very true.
SOCRATES: Then we ought not to retaliate or render evil for
evil to any one, whatever evil we may have suffered from
him. But I would have you consider, Crito, whether you
really mean what you are saying. For this opinion has never
been held, and never will be held, by any considerable
number of persons; and those who are agreed and those who
are not agreed upon this point have no common ground, and
can only despise one another when they see how widely they
differ. Tell me, then, whether you agree with and assent to
my first principle, that neither injury nor retaliation nor
warding off evil by evil is ever right. And shall that be
the premiss of our argument? Or do you decline and dissent
from this? For so I have ever thought, and continue to
think; but, if you are of another opinion, let me hear what
you have to say. If, however, you remain of the same mind
as formerly, I will proceed to the next step.
CRITO: You may proceed, for I have not changed my mind.
SOCRATES: Then I will go on to the next point, which may be
put in the form of a question:--Ought a man to do what he
admits to be right, or ought he to betray the right?
CRITO: He ought to do what he thinks right.
SOCRATES: But if this is true, what is the application? In
leaving the prison against the will of the Athenians, do I
wrong any? or rather do I not wrong those whom I ought
least to wrong? Do I not desert the principles which were
acknowledged by us to be just--what do you say?
CRITO: I cannot tell, Socrates, for I do not know.
SOCRATES: Then consider the matter in this way:--Imagine
that I am about to play truant (you may call the proceeding
by any name which you like), and the laws and the
government come and interrogate me: 'Tell us, Socrates,'
they say; 'what are you about? are you not going by an act
of yours to overturn us--the laws, and the whole state, as
far as in you lies? Do you imagine that a state can subsist
and not be overthrown, in which the decisions of law have
no power, but are set aside and trampled upon by
individuals?' What will be our answer, Crito, to these and
the like words? Any one, and especially a rhetorician, will
have a good deal to say on behalf of the law which requires
a sentence to be carried out. He will argue that this law
should not be set aside; and shall we reply, 'Yes; but the
state has injured us and given an unjust sentence.' Suppose
I say that?
CRITO: Very good, Socrates.
SOCRATES: 'And was that our agreement with you?' the law
would answer; 'or were you to abide by the sentence of the
state?' And if I were to express my astonishment at their
words, the law would probably add: 'Answer, Socrates,
instead of opening your eyes--you are in the habit of
asking and answering questions. Tell us,--What complaint
have you to make against us which justifies you in
attempting to destroy us and the state? In the first place
did we not bring you into existence? Your father married
your mother by our aid and begat you. Say whether you have
any objection to urge against those of us who regulate
marriage?' None, I should reply. 'Or against those of us
who after birth regulate the nurture and education of
children, in which you also were trained? Were not the
laws, which have the charge of education, right in
commanding your father to train you in music and
gymnastic?' Right, I should reply. 'Well then, since you
were brought into the world and nurtured and educated by
us, can you deny in the first place that you are our child
and slave, as your fathers were before you? And if this is
true you are not on equal terms with us; nor can you think
that you have a right to do to us what we are doing to you.
Would you have any right to strike or revile or do any
other evil to your father or your master, if you had one,
because you have been struck or reviled by him, or received
some other evil at his hands?--you would not say this? And
because we think right to destroy you, do you think that
you have any right to destroy us in return, and your
country as far as in you lies? Will you, O professor of
true virtue, pretend that you are justified in this? Has a
philosopher like you failed to discover that our country is
more to be valued and higher and holier far than mother or
father or any ancestor, and more to be regarded in the eyes
of the gods and of men of understanding? also to be
soothed, and gently and reverently entreated when angry,
even more than a father, and either to be persuaded, or if
not persuaded, to be obeyed? And when we are punished by
her, whether with imprisonment or stripes, the punishment
is to be endured in silence; and if she lead us to wounds
or death in battle, thither we follow as is right; neither
may any one yield or retreat or leave his rank, but whether
in battle or in a court of law, or in any other place, he
must do what his city and his country order him; or he must
change their view of what is just: and if he may do no
violence to his father or mother, much less may he do
violence to his country.' What answer shall we make to
this, Crito? Do the laws speak truly, or do they not?
CRITO: I think that they do.
SOCRATES: Then the laws will say: 'Consider, Socrates, if
we are speaking truly that in your present attempt you are
going to do us an injury. For, having brought you into the
world, and nurtured and educated you, and given you and
every other citizen a share in every good which we had to
give, we further proclaim to any Athenian by the liberty
which we allow him, that if he does not like us when he has
become of age and has seen the ways of the city, and made
our acquaintance, he may go where he pleases and take his
goods with him. None of us laws will forbid him or
interfere with him. Any one who does not like us and the
city, and who wants to emigrate to a colony or to any other
city, may go where he likes, retaining his property. But he
who has experience of the manner in which we order justice
and administer the state, and still remains, has entered
into an implied contract that he will do as we command him.
And he who disobeys us is, as we maintain, thrice wrong:
first, because in disobeying us he is disobeying his
parents; secondly, because we are the authors of his
education; thirdly, because he has made an agreement with
us that he will duly obey our commands; and he neither
obeys them nor convinces us that our commands are unjust;
and we do not rudely impose them, but give him the
alternative of obeying or convincing us;--that is what we
offer, and he does neither.
'These are the sort of accusations to which, as we were
saying, you, Socrates, will be exposed if you accomplish
your intentions; you, above all other Athenians.' Suppose
now I ask, why I rather than anybody else? they will justly
retort upon me that I above all other men have acknowledged
the agreement. 'There is clear proof,' they will say,
'Socrates, that we and the city were not displeasing to
you. Of all Athenians you have been the most constant
resident in the city, which, as you never leave, you may be
supposed to love (compare Phaedr.). For you never went out
of the city either to see the games, except once when you
went to the Isthmus, or to any other place unless when you
were on military service; nor did you travel as other men
do. Nor had you any curiosity to know other states or their
laws: your affections did not go beyond us and our state;
we were your especial favourites, and you acquiesced in our
government of you; and here in this city you begat your
children, which is a proof of your satisfaction. Moreover,
you might in the course of the trial, if you had liked,
have fixed the penalty at banishment; the state which
refuses to let you go now would have let you go then. But
you pretended that you preferred death to exile (compare
Apol.), and that you were not unwilling to die. And now you
have forgotten these fine sentiments, and pay no respect to
us the laws, of whom you are the destroyer; and are doing
what only a miserable slave would do, running away and
turning your back upon the compacts and agreements which
you made as a citizen. And first of all answer this very
question: Are we right in saying that you agreed to be
governed according to us in deed, and not in word only? Is
that true or not?' How shall we answer, Crito? Must we not
assent?
CRITO: We cannot help it, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Then will they not say: 'You, Socrates, are
breaking the covenants and agreements which you made with
us at your leisure, not in any haste or under any
compulsion or deception, but after you have had seventy
years to think of them, during which time you were at
liberty to leave the city, if we were not to your mind, or
if our covenants appeared to you to be unfair. You had your
choice, and might have gone either to Lacedaemon or Crete,
both which states are often praised by you for their good
government, or to some other Hellenic or foreign state.
Whereas you, above all other Athenians, seemed to be so
fond of the state, or, in other words, of us her laws (and
who would care about a state which has no laws?), that you
never stirred out of her; the halt, the blind, the maimed,
were not more stationary in her than you were. And now you
run away and forsake your agreements. Not so, Socrates, if
you will take our advice; do not make yourself ridiculous
by escaping out of the city.
'For just consider, if you transgress and err in this sort
of way, what good will you do either to yourself or to your
friends? That your friends will be driven into exile and
deprived of citizenship, or will lose their property, is
tolerably certain; and you yourself, if you fly to one of
the neighbouring cities, as, for example, Thebes or Megara,
both of which are well governed, will come to them as an
enemy, Socrates, and their government will be against you,
and all patriotic citizens will cast an evil eye upon you
as a subverter of the laws, and you will confirm in the
minds of the judges the justice of their own condemnation
of you. For he who is a corrupter of the laws is more than
likely to be a corrupter of the young and foolish portion
of mankind. Will you then flee from well-ordered cities and
virtuous men? and is existence worth having on these terms?
Or will you go to them without shame, and talk to them,
Socrates? And what will you say to them? What you say here
about virtue and justice and institutions and laws being
the best things among men? Would that be decent of you?
Surely not. But if you go away from well-governed states to
Crito's friends in Thessaly, where there is great disorder
and licence, they will be charmed to hear the tale of your
escape from prison, set off with ludicrous particulars of
the manner in which you were wrapped in a goatskin or some
other disguise, and metamorphosed as the manner is of
runaways; but will there be no one to remind you that in
your old age you were not ashamed to violate the most
sacred laws from a miserable desire of a little more life?
Perhaps not, if you keep them in a good temper; but if they
are out of temper you will hear many degrading things; you
will live, but how?--as the flatterer of all men, and the
servant of all men; and doing what?--eating and drinking in
Thessaly, having gone abroad in order that you may get a
dinner. And where will be your fine sentiments about
justice and virtue? Say that you wish to live for the sake
of your children--you want to bring them up and educate
them--will you take them into Thessaly and deprive them of
Athenian citizenship? Is this the benefit which you will
confer upon them? Or are you under the impression that they
will be better cared for and educated here if you are still
alive, although absent from them; for your friends will
take care of them? Do you fancy that if you are an
inhabitant of Thessaly they will take care of them, and if
you are an inhabitant of the other world that they will not
take care of them? Nay; but if they who call themselves
friends are good for anything, they will--to be sure they
will.
'Listen, then, Socrates, to us who have brought you up.
Think not of life and children first, and of justice
afterwards, but of justice first, that you may be justified
before the princes of the world below. For neither will you
nor any that belong to you be happier or holier or juster
in this life, or happier in another, if you do as Crito
bids. Now you depart in innocence, a sufferer and not a
doer of evil; a victim, not of the laws, but of men. But if
you go forth, returning evil for evil, and injury for
injury, breaking the covenants and agreements which you
have made with us, and wronging those whom you ought least
of all to wrong, that is to say, yourself, your friends,
your country, and us, we shall be angry with you while you
live, and our brethren, the laws in the world below, will
receive you as an enemy; for they will know that you have
done your best to destroy us. Listen, then, to us and not
to Crito.'
This, dear Crito, is the voice which I seem to hear
murmuring in my ears, like the sound of the flute in the
ears of the mystic; that voice, I say, is humming in my
ears, and prevents me from hearing any other. And I know
that anything more which you may say will be vain. Yet
speak, if you have anything to say.
CRITO: I have nothing to say, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Leave me then, Crito, to fulfil the will of God,
and to follow whither he leads.