






Study with the several resources on Docsity
Earn points by helping other students or get them with a premium plan
Prepare for your exams
Study with the several resources on Docsity
Earn points to download
Earn points by helping other students or get them with a premium plan
In this text, Socrates engages in a dialogue with Crito, discussing the importance of adhering to the laws and the consequences of disobeying them. Socrates argues that one should prioritize the opinion of the wise and knowledgeable over the many, and that justice and virtue are the most valuable things for humans. The text also touches upon the idea of agreements and contracts, and the responsibilities that come with them.
Typology: Slides
1 / 12
This page cannot be seen from the preview
Don't miss anything!







Translated by Cathal Woods and Ryan Pack 2007 - 2012 This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/ or send a letter to Creative Commons, 171 Second Street, Suite 300, San Francisco, California, 94105, USA.
c d e 45a b c Cr: Too obvious, perhaps. But, my supernatural Socrates, even now listen to me and be saved. I think that if you die it won't just be one misfortune. Apart from being separated from the kind of friend the like of which I will never find again, many people, moreover, who do not know me and you well will think that I could have saved you if I were willing to spend the money, but that I didn't care to. And wouldn't this indeed be the most shameful reputation, that I would seem to value money above friends? For the many will not believe that it was you yourself who refused to leave here, even though we were urging you to. So: But why should we, blessed Crito, care so much about the opinion of the many? The best people, who are more deserving of our attention, will believe that the matter was handled in just the way it was. Cr: But surely you see, Socrates, that we must pay attention to the opinion of the many, too. The present circumstances make it clear that the many can inflict not just the least of evils but practically the greatest, when one has been slandered amongst them. So: If they were of any use, Crito, the many would be able to do the greatest evils, and so they would also be able to do the greatest goods, and that would be fine. But as it is they can do neither, since they cannot make a man either wise or foolish, but they do just whatever occurs to them. Cr: Well, let's leave that there. But tell me this, Socrates. You're not worried, are you, about me and your other friends, how, if you were to leave here, the informers would make trouble for us, about how we stole you away from here, and we would be compelled either to give up all our property or a good deal of money, or suffer some other punishment at their hands? If you have any such fear, let it go, because it is our obligation to run this risk in saving you and even greater ones if necessary. So trust me and do not refuse. So: I certainly am worried about these things, Crito, and lots of others too. Cr: Well don't fear them. Indeed, some people only need to be given a little silver and they're willing to rescue you and get you out of here. And on top of that, don't you see how cheap those informers are and that we wouldn't need to spend a lot of money on them? My money is at your disposal, and is, I think, sufficient. Furthermore, even if, because of some concern for me, you think you shouldn't spend my money, there are these visitors here who are prepared to spend theirs. One of them has brought enough silver for this very purpose, Simmias of Thebes, and Kebes too is willing, and very many others. So, as I say, don't give up on saving yourself because you are uneasy about these things. And don't let what you said in the court get to you, that you wouldn't know what to do with yourself as an exile. In many places, wherever you go, they would welcome you. And if you want to go to Thessaly, I have some friends there who will think highly of you and provide you with safety, so that no one in Thessaly will harass you. What's more, Socrates, what you are doing doesn't seem right to me, giving yourself up when you could have been saved, ready to have happen to you what your enemies would urge—and did urge—in their wish to destroy you.
d e 46a b c d e In addition, I think you are betraying your sons, whom you could raise and educate, by going away and abandoning them, and, as far as you are concerned, they can experience whatever happens to come their way, when it's likely that as orphans they'll get the usual treatment of orphans. One should either not have children or endure the hardship of raising and educating them, but it looks to me as though you are taking the laziest path, whereas you must choose the path a good and brave man would choose, especially when you keep saying that you care about virtue your whole life long. So I am ashamed both on your behalf and on behalf of us your friends, that this whole affair surrounding you will be thought to have happened due to some cowardice on our part: the hearing of the charge in court, that it came to trial when it need not have, and the legal contest itself, how it was carried on, and, as the absurd part of the affair, that by some badness and cowardice on our part we will be thought to have let this final act get away from us, we who did not save you, nor you save yourself, when it was possible and we could have done so if we were of the slightest use. So see, Socrates, whether this is both evil and shameful, for you and for us as well. Think over—or rather, there's no longer time for thinking but only for deciding—this one consideration, because everything must be done this coming night; if we hang around any longer it will be impossible and we'll no longer be able to. So in every way, Socrates, believe me and do not refuse. So: My dear Crito, your eagerness would be worth a lot if it were in pursuit of something righteous, but the more it is not, the more difficult it is to deal with. We must therefore examine whether we should do this or not, because as always, and not just now for the first time, I am the sort of person who is persuaded in my soul by nothing other than the argument which seems best to me upon reflection. At present I am not able to abandon the arguments I previously made, now that this misfortune has befallen me, but they appear about the same to me, and I defer to and honor the ones I did previously. If we have nothing better than them to offer under the present circumstances, rest assured that I will not agree with you, not if, even more so than at present, the power of the multitude were to spook us as though we were children, imposing chains and deaths and monetary fines upon us. What's the most reasonable way we can examine this matter? If we first resume this argument that you give about reputations, whether it was correct on each occasion when we said that one must pay attention to the opinions of some people and not to others'? Was this the correct thing to say before I had to die, whereas now it has become obvious that it was mentioned instead for the sake of argument and was actually just playing around and hot air? I am determined to examine this together with you, Crito, whether it appears different when I consider it in this condition, or the same, and whether we should ignore it or be persuaded by it. It is always put like this, I think, by people who think there is something in it, like I put it just now: that it is necessary to pay serious attention to some of the opinions that men hold and not to others. By the gods, Crito, doesn't this seem
48a b c d e 49a injures and justice benefits has been corrupted? Or do you think this is unimportant in comparison with the body, this part of us, whatever it is, that injustice and justice affect? Cr: Not at all. So: But more valuable? Cr: Much more. So: So, best of men, we must not pay much heed to what the many will say to us, but to what the one who knows about just and unjust things will say, to that one person, and to the truth itself. So you were wrong, at the beginning, to bring this up, that we must heed the opinion of the many concerning just things and noble things and good things and their opposites. "But in spite of that," someone might declare, "the many can put us to death." Cr: That too is obvious, for someone might say so, Socrates. You're right. So: But, you wonderful fellow, it seems to me that the following statement, too, which we have been over before, still remains the same as it did previously. So examine again whether or not it still holds true for you, that it's not living that should be our priority, but living well. Cr: Why, of course it's still true. So: And that this is living well and finely and justly, does that remain true or not? Cr: It remains true. So: Therefore, based on what you've agreed, we must examine the following, whether it is just or unjust for me to try to leave here, when I was not acquitted by the Athenians. And if it seems just let's try it, and if not, let's abandon it. As for the points you make about spending money and reputation and the upbringing of children, Crito, I suspect that these are really questions belonging to people who would casually put someone to death and resurrect him, if they could, without any thought—to the members of the multitude. As for us, since the argument requires it, I suppose we should examine precisely what we just mentioned, whether we will act justly, we who lead as well as we who are led, by giving money and thanks to those who will get me out of here, or whether we will in fact act unjustly by doing all of this. If we think that we're acting unjustly by doing these things, I don't think we should take into consideration whether we will die if we hold our ground and keep our peace, or anything else we will suffer, rather than whether we're acting unjustly. Cr: I think you put that well, Socrates. See what we should do, then. So: Let's look together, my good man, and if at any point you have an objection to what I am saying, make it and I will persuade you; if not, you blessed man, finally quit saying the same thing over and over, that I have to get out of here against the will of the Athenians. I think it is most important to act with your consent and not against your will. See, then, that the starting point of the inquiry is laid down to your satisfaction and try to answer the questions in the way you think best. Cr: I shall certainly try. So: Do we say that we should never willingly act unjustly, or that
b c d e 50a we should in some instances and not in others? Or is acting unjustly never good or noble, as we often agreed on previous occasions? Or have all our previous agreements been overturned in these last few days, and did we fail to notice long ago, Crito, that at our age we ourselves are no different from children when we have serious discussions with one another? Or above all isn't it the same as was said to us then? Whether the many agree or not, and whether we must additionally suffer harsher things than these or gentler, nevertheless acting unjustly is evil and shameful in every way for the person who does it. Do we say this or not? Cr: We do. So: And so one must never act unjustly. Cr: By no means. So: And so one should not repay an injustice with an injustice, as the many think, since one should never act unjustly. Cr: It appears not. So: What next? Should one cause harm, Crito, or not? Cr: Presumably not, Socrates. So: And then? Is returning a harm for a harm just, as the many say, or not just? Cr: Not at all. So: Because harming a man in any way is no different from doing an injustice. Cr: That's true. So: One must neither repay an injustice nor cause harm to any man, no matter what one suffers because of him. And see to it, Crito, that in agreeing with this you are not agreeing contrary to what you believe, because I know that few people believe it and would continue to believe it. And there is no common ground between those who hold this and those who don't, but when they see each other's positions they are bound to despise one other. So think carefully about whether you yourself agree and believe it and let us begin thinking from here, that it is never right to act unjustly or to return an injustice or to retaliate when one has suffered some harm by repaying the harm. Do you reject or accept this starting principle? For it still seems good to me now, as it did long ago, but if it looked some other way to you, speak up and educate me. If you're sticking to what we said before, listen to what comes next. Cr: I do stick to it, and I accept it. Go ahead. So: Here in turn is the next point. Or rather, I'll ask you: when someone has made an agreement with someone else, and it is just, must he keep to it or betray it? Cr: He must keep to it. So: Observe what follows from this. By leaving here without persuading the city are we doing someone a harm, and those whom we should least of all harm, or not? And are we keeping to the just agreements we made, or not? Cr: I'm unable to answer what you're asking, Socrates; I don't know. So: Well, look at it this way. If the laws and the community of the city came to us when we were about to run away from here, or whatever it should be called, and standing over us were to ask, "Tell me, Socrates,
c d e 52a b c you must not be daunted or withdraw or abandon your position, but at war and in the courts and everywhere you must do what the city and the homeland orders, or convince her by appealing to what is naturally just? And that it is not holy to use force against one's mother or father, and it is so much worse to do so against one's homeland?" What will we say to this, Crito? That the laws speak the truth? Or not? Cr: It looks so to me. So: "Consider, then, Socrates" the laws might say, "whether we speak the truth about the following: that it is not just for you to try to do to us what you're now attempting. For we gave birth to you, brought you up, educated you, and gave you and all the other citizens everything we could that's good, and yet even so we pronounce that we have given the power to any Athenian who wishes, when he has been admitted as an adult and sees the affairs of the city and us the laws and is not pleased with us, to take his possessions and leave for wherever he wants. And if any among you wants to live in a colony because we and the city do not satisfy him, or if he wants to go somewhere else and live as a foreigner, none of us laws stands in the way or forbids him from taking his possessions with him and leaving for wherever he wants. But whoever remains with us, having observed how we decide lawsuits and take care of other civic matters, we claim that this man by his action has now made an agreement with us to do what we command him to do, and we claim that anyone who does not obey is guilty three times over, because he disobeys us who gave birth to him, and who raised him, and because, despite agreeing to be subject to us, he does not obey us or persuade us if we are doing something improper, and although we give him an alternative and don't angrily press him to do what we order but instead we allow either of two possibilities, either to persuade us or to comply, he does neither of these. We say that you especially will be liable to these charges, Socrates, if indeed you carry out your plans, and you not least of the Athenians but most of all." If, then, I would say, "How do you mean?", perhaps they would scold me justly, saying that I have made this agreement more than other Athenians. They might say, "Socrates, we have great evidence for this, that we and the city satisfy you. For you would never have lived here more than all of the other Athenians unless it seemed particularly good to you, and you never left the city for a festival, except once to Isthmos, but never to anywhere else, except on military duty, nor did you ever make another trip like other Athenians, nor did any urge seize you to get to know a different city or other laws, but we and our city were sufficient for you. So intently did you choose us and agree to be governed by us that, in particular, because the city was satisfactory to you, you had children in it. Moreover, at your trial you could have proposed exile, if you had wished, and what you're now trying to do to the city without her consent, you could have done then with her consent. At the time, you prided yourself on not being angry if you had to die, and you chose death, you said, in preference to exile. But now you neither feel shame in the face of those words nor have you any respect for us the laws. By trying to destroy
d e 53a b c d e us you are doing what the most despicable slave would do, trying to run away contrary to the contract and the agreement by which you agreed to be governed by us. So answer us first on the particular point of whether or not we speak the truth in claiming that you agreed to be governed by us in deed and not merely in words." What can we say to this, Crito? Mustn't we agree? Cr: We must, Socrates. So: "Aren't you", they might say, "going against your contract and agreement with us ourselves, which you were not forced to agree to nor deceived about nor compelled to decide upon in a short time but over seventy years, in which time you could have gone away if we did not satisfy you and these agreements did not appear just to you. You did not prefer Lakedaimonia* nor Crete, each of which you claim is well-governed, nor any other of the Hellenic cities or the foreign ones, but you left it less than the lame and the blind and the other disabled people. Evidently the city and also we the laws were so much more pleasing to you than to other Athenians, for is a city without laws satisfactory to anyone? Now then, won't you keep to your agreement? You will, if you are convinced by us, at any rate, Socrates; and at least you won't look ridiculous by leaving the city. "Just think about what good it would do you and your friends if you break it and do wrong in one of these ways. It's pretty clear that your friends will risk exile along with you and disenfranchisement from the city and confiscation of their property. And if you first go to one of the closest cities, to Thebes or to Megara—since both are well-governed—you would be an enemy, Socrates, of those governments, and all those who care about their cities will regard you suspiciously, thinking that you are a destroyer of the laws. And you will confirm the opinion of the judges in thinking that they judged the case correctly, since whoever is a destroyer of the laws would certainly be considered in some way a destroyer of young and foolish men. "Will you flee, then, from well-governed cities and from the most civilized people? Is it worth it to you to live like this? Will you associate with them, Socrates, and feel no shame when talking with them? What will you say, Socrates—what you said here, that virtue and justice are most valuable for humans and lawfulness and the laws? And you don't think the conduct of this Socrates will appear shameful? One should think so. "But will you leave these places and go to Crito's friends in Thessaly, since there is plenty of disorder and disobedience there? They might listen with pleasure to you, about how you amusingly ran away from prison wearing some costume or a peasant's vest or something else of the sort that runaways typically dress themselves in, altering your appearance. But still, will no one say that an old man, who probably only has a short time left in his life, was so greedy in his desire to live that he dared to violated the greatest laws? Perhaps not, if you do not annoy anyone. But if you do, Socrates, you will hear many dishonorable things about yourself. You will surely spend your life sucking up to everyone and being a slave. What else will you do but feast in Thessaly, as though you had traveled to Thessaly for dinner? And those speeches, the ones about