ul is
immortal, Socrates proceeds,[23] great need is there in this life to
endeavor to become as wise and good as possible. For if death were a
deliverance from every thing, it would be a great gain for the wicked;
but since the soul appears to be immortal, it must go to the place
suited to its nature. For it is said that each person's demon conducts
him to a place where he receives sentence according to his deserts.

He then[24] draws a fanciful picture of the various regions of the
earth, to which the good and the bad will respectively go after death,
and exhorts his friends to use every endeavor to acquire virtue and
wisdom in this life, "for," he adds, "the reward is noble, and the hope
great."

Having thus brought his subject to a conclusion, Socrates proposes to
bathe himself, in order not to trouble others to wash his dead body.
Crito thereupon asks if he has any commands to give, and especially how
he would be buried, to which he, with his usual cheerfulness, makes
answer, "Just as you please, if only you can catch me;" and then,
smiling, he reminds them that after death he shall be no longer with
them, and begs the others of the party to be sureties to Crito for his
absence from the body, as they had been before bound for his presence
before his judges.

After he had bathed, and taken leave of his children and the women of
his family the officer of the Eleven comes in to intimate to him that it
is now time to drink the poison. Crito urges a little delay, as the sun
had not yet set; but Socrates refuses to make himself ridiculous by
showing such a fondness for life. The man who is to administer the
poison is therefore sent for; and on his holding out the cup, Socrates,
neither trembling nor changing color or countenance at all, but, as he
was wont, looking steadfastly at the man, asked if he might make a
libation to any one; and being told that no more poison than enough had
been mixed, he simply prayed that his departure from this to another
world might be happy, and then drank off the poison, readily and calmly.
His friends, who had hitherto with difficulty restrained themselves,
could no longer control the outward expressions of grief, to which
Socrates said, "What are you doing, my friends? I, for this reason,
chiefly, sent away the women, that they might not commit any folly of
this kind; for I have heard that it is right to die with good omens. Be
quiet, therefore, and bear up."

When he had walked ab