Apology | Page 6

public affairs? Because the familiar divine voice has
hindered him; if he had been a public man, and had fought for the right,
as he would certainly have fought against the many, he would not have
lived, and could therefore have done no good. Twice in public matters
he has risked his life for the sake of justice--once at the trial of the
generals; and again in resistance to the tyrannical commands of the
Thirty.
But, though not a public man, he has passed his days in instructing the
citizens without fee or reward--this was his mission. Whether his
disciples have turned out well or ill, he cannot justly be charged with
the result, for he never promised to teach them anything. They might
come if they liked, and they might stay away if they liked: and they did
come, because they found an amusement in hearing the pretenders to
wisdom detected. If they have been corrupted, their elder relatives (if
not themselves) might surely come into court and witness against him,
and there is an opportunity still for them to appear. But their fathers and
brothers all appear in court (including 'this' Plato), to witness on his
behalf; and if their relatives are corrupted, at least they are uncorrupted;
'and they are my witnesses. For they know that I am speaking the truth,
and that Meletus is lying.'
This is about all that he has to say. He will not entreat the judges to
spare his life; neither will he present a spectacle of weeping children,
although he, too, is not made of 'rock or oak.' Some of the judges
themselves may have complied with this practice on similar occasions,
and he trusts that they will not be angry with him for not following
their example. But he feels that such conduct brings discredit on the
name of Athens: he feels too, that the judge has sworn not to give away
justice; and he cannot be guilty of the impiety of asking the judge to
break his oath, when he is himself being tried for impiety.
As he expected, and probably intended, he is convicted. And now the
tone of the speech, instead of being more conciliatory, becomes more
lofty and commanding. Anytus proposes death as the penalty: and what
counter- proposition shall he make? He, the benefactor of the Athenian
people, whose whole life has been spent in doing them good, should at
least have the Olympic victor's reward of maintenance in the
Prytaneum. Or why should he propose any counter-penalty when he
does not know whether death, which Anytus proposes, is a good or an

evil? And he is certain that imprisonment is an evil, exile is an evil.
Loss of money might be an evil, but then he has none to give; perhaps
he can make up a mina. Let that be the penalty, or, if his friends wish,
thirty minae; for which they will be excellent securities.
(He is condemned to death.)
He is an old man already, and the Athenians will gain nothing but
disgrace by depriving him of a few years of life. Perhaps he could have
escaped, if he had chosen to throw down his arms and entreat for his
life. But he does not at all repent of the manner of his defence; he
would rather die in his own fashion than live in theirs. For the penalty
of unrighteousness is swifter than death; that penalty has already
overtaken his accusers as death will soon overtake him.
And now, as one who is about to die, he will prophesy to them. They
have put him to death in order to escape the necessity of giving an
account of their lives. But his death 'will be the seed' of many disciples
who will convince them of their evil ways, and will come forth to
reprove them in harsher terms, because they are younger and more
inconsiderate.
He would like to say a few words, while there is time, to those who
would have acquitted him. He wishes them to know that the divine sign
never interrupted him in the course of his defence; the reason of which,
as he conjectures, is that the death to which he is going is a good and
not an evil. For either death is a long sleep, the best of sleeps, or a
journey to another world in which the souls of the dead are gathered
together, and in which there may be a hope of seeing the heroes of
old--in which, too, there are just judges; and as all are immortal, there
can be no fear of any one suffering death for his opinions.
Nothing evil can happen to the good man either in life or death, and his
own death has been permitted by the