Were you with Socrates yourself, Phaedo, on the day when he drank the poison in
prison, or did you hear about it from someone else?
I was there myself, Echecrates.
Then what did he say before his death? and how did he die? I should like to hear,
for nowadays none of the Phliasians go to Athens at all, and no stranger has come from there for a long
time, who could tell us anything definite
about this matter, except that he drank poison and died, so we could learn no
further details.
Did you not even hear about the trial and how it was conducted?
Yes, some one told us about that, and we wondered that although it took place a
long time ago, he was put to death much later. Now why was that, Phaedo?
It was a matter of chance, Echecrates. It happened that the stern of the ship
which the Athenians send to Delos was
crowned on the day before the trial.
What ship is this?
This is the ship, as the Athenians say, in which Theseus once went to Crete with the fourteen youths and maidens, and saved them and himself. Now the Athenians made a vow to Apollo, as the story goes, that if they were saved they
would send a mission every year to Delos. And from that time even to the present day they send it
annually in honor of the god. Now it is their law that after the mission begins
the city must be pure and no one may be publicly executed until the ship has
gone to Delos and back; and
sometimes, when contrary winds detain it,
this takes a long time. The beginning of the mission is when the priest of
Apollo crowns the stern of the ship; and this took place, as I say, on the day
before the trial. For that reason Socrates passed a long time in prison between
his trial and his death.
What took place at his death, Phaedo? What was said and done? And which of his
friends were with him? Or did the authorities forbid them to be present, so that
he died without his friends?
Not at all. Some were there, in fact, a good many.
Be so good as to tell us as exactly as you can about all these things, if you are
not too busy.
I am not busy and I will try to tell you. It is always my greatest pleasure to be
reminded of Socrates whether by speaking of him myself or by listening to
someone else.
Well, Phaedo, you will have hearers who feel as you do; so try to tell us
everything as accurately as you can.
For my part, I had strange emotions when I was there. For I was not filled with
pity as I might naturally be when present at the death of a friend; since he
seemed to me to be happy, both in his bearing and his words, he was meeting
death so fearlessly and nobly. And so I thought that even in going to the abode
of the dead he was not going without the protection of the gods, and that when
he arrived there it would be well with him, if it ever was well with anyone.