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Section 117

Hearing this, Crito nodded to the slave standing nearby. The slave went out, was gone for some time, and returned bringing the man who was to administer the poison, carrying it ground in a cup. Seeing the man, Socrates said, "Well, my good man, you know about these things; what must I do?" "Nothing else," he said, "but drink it and walk around until your legs feel heavy. Then lie down, and it will act on its own." At the same time he handed the cup to Socrates. Socrates took it very cheerfully, Echecrates, without a tremor, without changing color or his expression. Looking at the man keenly under his brows, as he usually did, he asked, "What do you say about pouring a libation to a deity from this drink? Is it permitted or not?" "We grind just the amount we think is the right measure to drink, Socrates," he said. "I understand," he said. "But surely it is permitted and necessary to pray to the gods that my journey from here to there may be fortunate. That is my prayer, and may it be so." With these words, he raised the cup and drank it off quite easily and calmly. Until then, most of us had been able to restrain our weeping reasonably well. But when we saw him drinking, and that he had finished drinking, we could hold back no longer. My own tears came flowing in a flood against my will, so I covered my face and wept for myself—certainly not for him, but for my own misfortune in being deprived of such a comrade. Crito had gotten up and moved away even before I did, unable to restrain his tears. Apollodorus, who had not stopped weeping at all previously, now roared aloud, crying and grieving so much that he broke the heart of everyone present, except Socrates himself. "What are you doing, you strange men!" he said. "It was mainly for this reason that I sent the women away, so they would not create such a disturbance. I have heard that one must die in auspicious silence. Be quiet and bear up."