Perhaps when I say this, you will think I am speaking out of stubbornness, just as when I spoke about wailing and begging. But it is not that, men of Athens. Rather, I am convinced that I do not intentionally wrong any human being. However, I have not persuaded you of this, because we have conversed for so little time. If it were the law here, as in other cities, to judge a trial for life not in a single day but over several days, I think you would have been persuaded. But as it is, it is not easy to dispel great slanders in a short time. Being convinced that I do no wrong to anyone, I am certainly not going to wrong myself and say against myself that I deserve something bad, and propose such a penalty for myself. Out of fear of what? Fearing I might suffer the penalty Meletus proposes, when I say I do not know whether it is good or bad? Should I choose instead something I know perfectly well is bad, and propose that? Prison? Why should I live in prison, a slave to the presiding magistrates, the Eleven? A fine? And imprisonment until I pay? That would be the same as I just said, because I have no money to pay. Should I propose exile? Perhaps you would accept that penalty. I would have to be deeply in love with life, men of Athens, to be so irrational as not to realize that if you, my fellow citizens, could not endure my company and my words, but found them too burdensome and hateful, and seek to be rid of them now—will others endure them easily? Far from it, men of Athens. It would be a fine life for a man of my age to leave his city and live wandering from city to city, constantly being driven out. For I know well that wherever I go, the young men will listen to my talk, just as they do here. If I drive them away, they will persuade their elders to expel me. If I do not drive them away, their fathers and relatives will expel me for their sakes.