"I covered my face and wept - not for him, but at my own misfortune at losing such a man as my friend."
Socrates (470/469 – 399 BC) was a Greek
philosopher and the main source of Western thought. Little is known of his life
except what was recorded by his students, including Plato. and
Xenophon. His "Socratic method," laid the groundwork for Western
systems of logic and philosophy. When the political climate of Greece turned,
Socrates was found guilty of both corrupting the minds of the youth of Athens
and of impiety ("not believing in the gods of the state.") He was sentenced to death by drinking a
mixture containing poison hemlock. He accepted this judgment rather than
fleeing into exile. Socrates' death was described by his most
famous student student Plato in his text Phaedo.
Note: Plato describes the scene through the
narrative voice of the fictional character Phaedo.
When
Crito heard, he signaled to the slave who was standing by. The boy went out,
and returned after a few moments with the man who was to administer the poison
which he brought ready mixed in a cup. When Socrates saw him, he said, 'Now,
good sir, you understand these things. What must I do?' 'Just drink it and walk
around until your legs begin to feel heavy, then lie down. It will soon act.'
With that he offered Socrates the cup.
The latter
took it quite cheerfully without a tremor, with no change of color or
expression. He just gave the man his stolid look, and asked, 'How say you, is
it permissible to pledge this drink to anyone? May I?'
The answer
came, 'We allow reasonable time in which to drink it.'
'I
understand', he said, 'we can and must pray to the gods that our sojourn on
earth will continue happy beyond the grave. This is my prayer, and may it come
to pass.' With these words, he stoically drank the potion, quite readily and
cheerfully.
Up till
this moment most of us were able with some decency to hold back our tears, but
when we saw him drinking the poison to the last drop, we could restrain
ourselves no longer. In spite of myself, the tears came in floods, so that I
covered my face and wept - not for him, but at my own misfortune at losing such
a man as my friend. Crito, even before me, rose and went out when he could
check his tears no longer.
Apollodorus
was already steadily weeping, and by drying his eyes, crying again and sobbing,
he affected everyone present except for Socrates himself.
He said,
'You are strange fellows; what is wrong with you? I sent the women away for
this very purpose, to stop their creating such a scene. I have heard that one
should die in silence. So please be quiet and keep control of yourselves.'
These words made us ashamed, and we stopped crying.
Socrates
walked around until he said that his legs were becoming heavy, when he lay on
his back, as the attendant instructed. This fellow felt him, and then a moment
later examined his feet and legs again. Squeezing a foot hard, he asked him if
he felt anything. Socrates said that he did not. He did the same to his calves
and, going higher, showed us that he was becoming cold and stiff. Then he felt
him a last time and said that when the poison reached the heart he would be
gone.
As the
chill sensation got to his waist, Socrates uncovered his head (he had put
something over it) and said his last words: 'Crito, we owe a cock to Asclepius.
Do pay it. Don't forget.'
'Of
course', said Crito. 'Do you want to say anything else?'
'There was
no reply to this question, but after a while he gave a slight stir, and the
attendant uncovered him and examined his eyes. Then Crito saw that he was dead,
he closed his mouth and eyelids.
This was
the end of our friend, the best, wisest and most upright man of any that I have
ever known.
