Just now his wife was with him, and wept.
"Weep not," said Socrates; "it is not your fault."
"Will you see the children?"
"Why should I lacerate their little souls with a useless
leave-taking? Go to them and comfort them; divert their minds
with an expedition to the woods."
"Shall we rejoice while you are dying?"
"Rejoice that my sufferings come to an end! Rejoice that I die with
honour."
"Have you no last wish?"
"I wish for nothing, except peace and freedom from your foolish
tears and sighs, and your disturbing lamentations. Go, woman, and
say to yourself that Socrates wants to sleep for he is tired and out
of humour; say to yourself that he will wake again, refreshed,
rejuvenated, happy and amiable."
"I wish you had taught me all this before; you had nothing to learn
from me."
"Yes! I have learnt from you patience and self-control."
"Do you forgive me?"
"I cannot, for I have done it already. Say farewell now, as though I
were going on a journey. Say 'We meet again,' as though I were soon
returning!"
"Farewell, then, Socrates, and be not angry with me."
"No, I am always well-disposed towards you."
"Farewell, my husband, for ever."
"Not for ever. You wish to see me again, don't you? Put on a
cheerful face, and say, 'We meet again.
Pages:
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92