Plato, Crito (ΚΡΙΤΩΝ)

translated by John Bauschatz, 2018,
from the Greek of the 1995 Oxford Classical Text edition of E.A. Duke, et al.

free to use and distribute for non-commercial purposes with acknowledgement of the translator

[43a]

Socrates: Why have you come at such an hour, Crito? Or is it no longer early?

Crito: Oh, it is very early.

S: When, about?

C: Just before dawn. It’s dim.

S: I’m amazed that the prison guard answered your knock.

C: He is already used to me, Socrates, on account of the fact that I have come here many times, and he has been kindly treated by me in a certain respect.

S: Have you just arrived, or a while ago?

C: A moderately long while ago.

[43b]

S: Well, then: how is it you didn’t wake me up right away, but are sitting beside me in silence?

C: By Zeus, Socrates, I was not wishing to be in such sleeplessness and grief, but for a while I have been amazed at you, watching how sweetly you are sleeping. Purposefully, then, I was not waking you up, so that you might continue as sweetly as possible. Indeed, many times before in your whole life did I consider you fortunate for your manner, and most of all now, in your present misfortune, how easily and mildly you endure it.

S: It would be ridiculous, Crito, for me to get angry, being of such an age, if it is already necessary for me to die.

[43c]

C: Others, too, of such an age are caught up in such misfortunes, but their age does not release them from getting angry at their present fortune.

S: These things are true. But why, then, have you come so early?

C: Bearing a difficult message, Socrates—not for you, as it seems to me, but for me and for all of your friends, a harsh and heavy message, which I, as I think, might endure among those it impacts most heavily.

S: What is it? Or has the boat come from Delos, which, when it [43d] has arrived, means that it is necessary for me to die?

C: No, in fact it has not come, but, as it seems to me, it will come today, from the things which some men are saying, men who have come from Sounion and left it behind there. It is clear, then, from these messengers, that it will arrive today, and it will be necessary that tomorrow you end your life.

S: But, Crito, this is good fortune! If in this way it is dear to the gods, let it be so. However, I do not think that it will come today.

[44a]

C: How do you figure?

S: I will tell you. For I must die, I suppose, on the day after whatever day the ship arrives.

C: Yes, those in charge of these things say this.

S: I do not think that it will come within the present day, but during the next one. I judge this from a certain dream I had a little earlier this night. And you may have not woken me up at just the right moment.

C: What was the dream?

S: A certain woman seemed, having approached me, beautiful and shapely, [44b] wearing white clothing, to call me and say, “Socrates, ‘On the third day you might reach Phthia, rich in clods.’”

C: That dream is strange, Socrates.

S: A clear one, as it seems to me, Crito.

C: Very much so, as it seems. But, good Socrates, even now obey me and be saved: as for me, if you die, there is not one misfortune, but aside from being deprived of a friend of such a kind as I will never find, in addition it will seem to many people who do not know me and you clearly [44c] that I, being able to save you, if I were willing to pay money, neglected you. Indeed, what kind of reputation would be more shameful than this one, than to seem to care more about money than friends? For the many will not believe that you yourself did not want to go away from here, while we were desiring it.

S: But why is it such a concern to you, the opinion of the many? For the fairest men, to whom it is most fitting to give heed, will believe that these things have been done however they are being done.

[44d]

C: But you see, in fact, that it is necessary, Socrates, to also have a concern for the opinion of the many. The present situation itself makes it clear that the many are able to bring about not only the smallest of evils, but also nearly the greatest, if someone has been discredited among them.

S: If only the many were able, Crito, to bring about the greatest evils, so that they also might be able to bring about the greatest good things—and things would be good. But now, they are capable of neither: for they are able to make a man neither wise nor foolish, but they do this thing, whatever they happen upon.

[44e]

C: Let’s let these things be so. But tell me the following things, Socrates: you’re not taking consideration for me and your other friends, are you, fearing that, if you go away from here, the sykophants may give us a hard time, saying that we stole you away from here, and fearing that we be forced to lose either all of our property or a lot of money, or be forced to endure something else in addition to these things? For if you fear [45a] some such thing, let it go: for we, I think, are right, in saving you, to run this risk, and if it is necessary to run a risk even greater than this one. But obey me, and don’t do otherwise.

S: I am concerned about these things, Crito, and many others.

C: Then don’t fear them—for the money is not much, which certain people want to receive to save you and lead you out of here. Next, you see how cheap these sykophants are, right? and that there would not be need for a lot of money for them? [45b] And there belongs to you my money, which, as I think, is enough; and moreover, if, being grieved for me in some way, you do not think it is right for you to spend my money, certain foreigners here are ready to spend theirs. And one of them has brought sufficient money for this very purpose: Simmias the Theban; and Kebes and very many others are also prepared. As a result, as I say, don’t hesitate to save yourself, fearing for these things, nor, as you said in the courtroom, let it be difficult for you that, going away, you would not have something with which you might occupy yourself; for in many places, [45c] and wherever you go, they will welcome you. If you want to go to Thessaly, I have friends there who will make a big deal about you and will provide you with safety, so as for no one of those in Thessaly to harm you.

And moreover, Socrates, you seem to me to be taking in hand an unjust matter, namely betraying yourself, though it is possible for you to be saved, and you desire the kinds of things to come into being for yourself that your enemies would desire, and which those wishing to destroy you did desire. In addition to these things, you also seem to me to be betraying your sons, abandoning whom—though it is possible for you [45d] to raise them and educate them—you are departing; and, as far as you are concerned, they will deal with whatever they encounter. And they will encounter, as is likely, the sorts of things which are accustomed to occur in the cases of orphans in their bereavement. For either it is necessary to not have children, or to endure hardship with them while raising and educating them, and you seem to me to be taking the laziest approach. But it is necessary for you to choose these things, which a good and brave man would choose, you who have been saying that you are concerned about virtue throughout your entire life. As I, at least, both [45e] on your behalf and that of us, your friends, am ashamed lest this whole business about you seem to have been managed by us with a certain cowardice—namely the entrance of the lawsuit into the courtroom, the fact that it did enter, it being possible that it not do so; and the struggle itself of the lawsuit, how it went down; and lastly this, the most ridiculous aspect of the matter, that by a certain wickedness and cowardice of ours the opportunity seems [46a] to have escaped us, we who did not save you, and you who did not save yourself, though it was possible and achievable, if there were any help from us, even in some small respect. Consider these things, then, Socrates, lest, along with their badness, they also be shameful for you and for us. But take counsel with yourself—although it is no longer the time to be taking counsel, but to have taken counsel. There is but one counsel: for it is necessary that all of these things have been done within the coming night, and if we will wait any longer, it will be impossible and no longer achievable. But in every respect, Socrates, obey me, and don't do differently at all.

[46b]

S: Dear Crito, your willingness is worth much, if it should be accompanied by some correctness; but if not, by how much greater it is, by so much it is more difficult to bear. Therefore, it is necessary for us to examine whether these things ought to be done, or not, since I, not now for the first time, but always have been a man of such a kind as to obey no other of my arguments than the argument which seems best to me as I make my reckoning. Indeed, the arguments which I was elucidating in the past, I am not able to cast away now, after this has happened to me, but they appear to me to be the same, or nearly so, [46c] and I respect and honor the same ones as I did before. If we do not have arguments better than these to elucidate at present, know well that I will not concede to you, not even if the power of the many frightens us, like children, more than the now present circumstances, sending against us bonds and deaths and confiscations of money. How, then, might we most reasonably examine them? If first we should take up this argument, the one which you are raising about opinions, we might. Was it articulated well, or not, each time, [46d] that it is necessary to pay attention to some opinions, and not to others? Or before it was necessary for me to die, was it articulated well, and now it has become clear that it was articulated for the sake of argument, but it was really child’s play and nonsense? I am eager to examine, Crito, together with you, whether it seems different to me at all, since I am in these circumstances, or whether it is the same, and whether we will let it go, or we will obey it. It was said, in some way, as I think, each time by those who thought that they were saying something reasonable, just as I was saying now, that, of the opinions which men [46e] express, it is necessary to consider some of them worth much, and others not. By the gods, Crito, this seems well-spoken to you, doesn’t it? For you, with regard to as many things as are related to humans, you are removed from the possibility of dying [47a] tomorrow, and the present misfortune would not bias you in your judgment. So consider: doesn’t it seem to you to be sufficiently argued that it is not necessary to honor all of the opinions of men, but some, and others not; and not of all men, but of some, and of others not? What do you say? Aren't these things well argued?

C: They are well argued.

S: And that we ought to honor useful opinions, and not worthless ones?

C: Yes.

S: And the useful opinions are those of the mindful, whereas the worthless ones belong to those who are senseless, right?

C: How could it be otherwise?

S: Come on, then, how, again, were such things being said? A man, [47b] being an athlete and making this his business, does he pay attention to the praise and blame and opinion of every man, or of that one man alone who happens to be a doctor or a trainer?

C: Of that one man alone.

S: So he ought to fear the blames and welcome the praises of that one man, but not those of the many.

C: That is clear.

S: In this way, therefore, he must act and train and eat and drink, in whatever way seems best to this one man, the one in charge and the one who knows, rather than in the way which seems best to all the others.

C: That’s right.

[47c]

S: Well. Disobeying the one, and disrespecting his opinion and his praises, but honoring the words of the many and those who know nothing, he will experience something bad, right?

C: How wouldn’t he?

S: What is this bad thing, and to where does it tend, and onto what part of the one who disobeys?

C: It is clear that it acts on his body; for it destroy this.

S: You are speaking well. Therefore, also concerning other things, is it not similar (so that we may not go through all of them), and especially concerning just things and unjust things, shameful things and noble things, and good things and bad things, about which we are now deliberating? Should we follow [47d] the opinion of the many, and fear it, or should we follow the opinion of the one man, if there is someone who has knowledge, whom it is necessary to reverence and to fear more than all of the others? If we will not follow him, we will harm and main that thing which became better by means of a just thing, and was destroyed by an unjust thing. Or is this nonsense?

C: I, at least, think it is correct, Socrates.

S: Come, then: if we destroy the thing that becomes better by the healthful man, but is corrupted by the sickly man, obeying the opinion of those who don’t know anything, should we continue living [47e] with it being destroyed? And this is, I think, the body. Or is it not?

C: It is.

S: So: should we live our lives with a wretched and ruined body?

C: In no way.

S: But should we live our lives with that thing ruined which the unjust maims and the just helps? Or do we think that that thing is cheaper than the body, whatever it is [48a] of ours, with which injustice and justice are concerned?

C: Not at all.

S: But it is more to be honored?

C: Yes, indeed.

S: Therefore, my good man, we must not at all take heed of what the many will say about us, but rather of what the man knowledgeable about just things and unjust things, that one man and the truth itself, will say. The result of this is that, in the first place, you are not proposing correctly in suggesting that it is necessary for us to give heed to the opinion of the many concerning just things and noble things and good things and their opposites. “But” someone might say, “the many are able to kill us.”

[48b]

C: Yes, that’s clear. Someone might say that, Socrates. You are speaking the truth.

S: But, my friend, this argument which we have gone through still seems to me to be the same as before; and consider this also, in turn: whether it still remains true for us, or not, that living is not to be considered of the greatest value, but living well is.

C: Yes, it does remain true.

S: And living well, and nobly, and justly—that this is the same thing, does this remain true or not?

C: It does.

S: So, from the things being agreed upon, this must be considered: whether it is just for me to attempt to go away from here, if the Athenians [48c] are not releasing me, or not? And if it seems just, let’s give it a go; but if not, let’s let it go. The considerations which you are bringing forth about spending money, and opinion, and raising children, these are truly the considerations of those who kill and who would bring back to life, if they were able, with no sense—and these are the many. But for us, since our argument holds in this way, let no other thing be examined save that about which we were now speaking, whether we will do just things, in paying money to these [48d] men who will lead me out of here and in giving them thanks, both they leading me out and we ourselves being led, or whether truly we will act unjustly in doing all of these things. And if we seem to be doing these things unjustly, it will not be necessary to take into account either whether it is necessary for us to die, remaining here and keeping quiet, or whether it is necessary for us to endure any other thing before doing an injustice.

C: You seem to me to be speaking well, Socrates. Consider what we ought to do.

S: Let’s examine together, my good man, and if at any point you are able to contradict [48e] me as I speak, contradict me and I will agree with you; but if not, stop already, my friend, saying to me again and again the same thing, that it is necessary for me to go away from here with the Athenians unwilling. For I consider it of great value to do these things with you persuaded, but not with you unwilling. So: examine the beginning of the investigation, if to you [49a] it is argued sufficiently, and attempt to respond to what is asked in whatever way you think best.

C: I will try.

S: Do we say that in no way people must willingly do wrong, or that in one way yes, and another no? Or do we say that doing wrong is nether good nor noble in any way at all, as was agreed by us many times in the past? Or—what was just now being said—have all of those previous agreements of ours been squandered in these few days, and long ago, Crito, already being men of a certain age, speaking with each other zealously, [49b] did we escape our own notice in differing not at all from children? Or, above all, does the argument hold just as it was articulated by us then: whether the many say so or not, and whether it is necessary for us to endure things still harsher than these, or things more gentle, all the same, doing wrong happens to be something bad and shameful for the one doing wrong in every respect? Do we say this, or not?

C: We do.

S: So it is necessary to do wrong in no wise.

C: Yes, indeed.

S: And it is necessary to not do harm in revenge, though being wronged, as the many believe, since it is necessary to do wrong in no way at all.

[49c]

C: It does not seem so.

S: What about this: Is it necessary to do evil, Crito, or not?

C: Indeed not, Socrates.

S: And what about this: Is it just to do evil in return, when you experience something bad, as the many say, or not?

C: In no way.

S: For, I think, doing evil to men does not differ from doing an injustice.

C: You’re right.

S: So it is necessary to not do injustice in return, and to not treat any person badly, not if one suffers anything at all from them. Be careful, [49d] Crito, in agreeing to these things, that you not agree contrary to your opinion; for I know that to some few do these things seem right, and will seem right. And for the people to whom these things have seemed good, and for those to whom they have not, for these there is no common ground, but it is necessary that these people look down on each other, when they see each other’s desires. So you, too, consider very well whether you agree and it also seems good to you, and let us begin deliberating from here, that it is never right to do wrong, or to do wrong in return, or to defend oneself when experiencing something evil by retaliating with evil—or do you disagree and not share in this beginning? [49e] For to me, both long ago and still now, does it seem this way, but if to you it has seemed differently in some way, say so and teach me. But if you remain steadfast in the arguments from before, hear the next thing.

C: I do remain, and they seem good to me, too. So speak.

S: I will say the next thing, or rather I will ask: Whatever things someone agrees with someone else to be just, are these to be done, or should deceit be employed?

C: They should be done.

S: Consider what is next: we, in going away from here, if [50a] we are not obeying the city, are we treating certain people badly, and people whom it is least necessary to treat badly, or not? And are we remaining in agreement about the things which we said were just, or not?

C: I am not able, Socrates, to respond to what you are asking. For I do not understand.

S: But consider it this way. If the laws, coming to us about to run away from here (or whatever it is necessary to call this), and the government, standing nearby, should ask, “Tell me, Socrates, what are you intending to do? Are you intending anything other than by [50b] this deed which you are taking in hand to destroy us, the laws, and the entire city, at least in so far as you can? Or does it seem to you that that city is able to exist and to not have been overturned, in which judgments that have been given have no power, but become unauthoritative through private citizens and are corrupted?” What will we say, Crito, to these questions and other similar ones? For someone might be able to say many things, and especially a public speaker, on behalf of this law being destroyed, which enjoins that judgments that have been given are valid. [50c] Or will we say to them that, “For the city was wronging us, and did not correctly decide the lawsuit.” Will we say these things, or what?

C: These things, by Zeus, Socrates.

S: What, then, if the laws say, “Socrates, in fact were these things agreed by us and you, or was it agreed for you to respect the judgments that the city gives?” If, therefore, we should be amazed at them as they spoke, perhaps they would say, “Socrates, don't be surprised at the things being said, but respond, since you have been accustomed to employ asking and answering. Come, blaming us [50d] and the city for doing what are you trying to destroy us? First of all, did we not beget you, and through us, did your father not take your mother and engender you? Explain, then, to these of us, to the laws concerning marriages: do you find fault in them in some way, that they do not hold up well?”

“I don’t find fault,” I would say.

“And to those concerned with the raising of children after birth, and education, under which you, too, were brought up? Or were we not instructing well, we laws appointed for this, in ordering your father to educate [50e] you in music and exercise?”

“They were instructing him well,” I would say.

“Well: after you came into being and were raised and were educated, would you be able to say, first of all, that you were not our child and slave, you yourself and your ancestors? And if this is so, do you think that justice is divided equally between you and us, and that whatever things we attempt to do to you, it is just for you to retaliate with these same things? Or was justice not equal for you with regards to your father and your master, if you happened to have one, so as for you to do in return these things, whatever things you should experience—neither to talk back [51a] if you were being chewed out, nor to hit back if you were being stricken, nor many other such things? And concerning your fatherland and the laws, will it be possible, if we attempt to destroy you, thinking that it is right, for you to try to destroy us—the laws and your fatherland—in return, in so far as you are able? And will you say that in doing these things you are acting justly, you, the man who is, in truth, concerned with virtue? Or are you so wise that it has escaped you that your fatherland is more to be honored and holier and more godly and held in higher esteem both among gods and men who have sense [51b] than your mother and father and all of your ancestors, and that it is necessary to revere and give way to and fawn upon your fatherland, even when angry, more than your father, and that it is necessary to either obey or do whatever it commands, and to suffer, if it commands that you suffer something, in silence; and if it orders you to be beaten or to be bound, and if you are led into war to be wounded or killed, this must be done, and this is just, and you must not yield or retreat or abandon your post, but in war and in the courtroom and everywhere, whatever the city and your fatherland [51c] order must be done—or it is necessary to persuade it of the just way. It is not holy to outrage either your mother or your father, but it is much less holy still to abuse your fatherland than to abuse these.” What will we say to these words, Crito? That the laws speak the truth, or not?

C: It seems to me that they do.

S: “So consider, Socrates,” perhaps the laws might say, “if we are speaking the truth, that you are attempting to treat us unjustly with regards to what you are now attempting. For though we gave birth to you, we raised you, we educated you, we gave a share of all the good things which [51d] we were able to you and all the other citizens, all the same we publically declare, by having granted the power to whomever of the Athenians wants it—after he becomes a man and sees the affairs in the city and us, the law— to whomever we do not please, to be able to go away to wherever he wants, taking his things. And none of us, the laws, stands in his way or forbids him, both if some one of you wants to go to a colony, if we and the city should not please him, and if he wants to reside in a foreign city, going somewhere else, to go there, wherever [51e] he wants, having his things. But whoever of you remains, seeing in what way we pronounce judgments and direct the city in other respects, we say that this man has already agreed with us in deed that he will do whatever we order, and we say that the one who does not obey does wrong in three ways, because he doesn’t obey us, who are his parents, and because he does not obey us, his nurturers, and because, having agreed to obey us, he neither obeys nor persuades us, if we are not doing something well, [52a] though we grant the opportunity and do not command him savagely to do whatever we order; but, though we permit one of two things, either to persuade us or to act, he does neither of these. And we say that you, too, Socrates, will be liable for these same reasons, if you will really do what you are intending, and you not least of the Athenians, but more than most.”

If, then, I should say, “Why?”, perhaps they might justly upbraid me by saying that I, among the Athenians, happen to have made this agreement with them to a very great extent. For they would say, [52b] “Socrates, we have great proofs of these things, that we and the city were pleasing to you. For not ever, more than all of the other Athenians, would you be living in it, if it were not more pleasing to you, and you never went out of the city for a show, and not once to the Isthmus, nor anywhere else, unless to someplace to serve as a soldier, nor did you ever make another journey from home, as other people do, nor did desire seize you to learn of another city or other laws, but we [52c] were sufficient for you, as was our city. So very much were you choosing us and agreeing to live as a citizen in accordance with us. And in addition to the other things, you had children in it, since the city was pleasing to you. And moreover, at the trial itself it was possible for you to suggest a penalty of exile, if you were desiring it, and the thing which you are now attempting against the city’s wishes, then it was possible for you to do with the city willing. Then you were making a display as if you were not angry if it should be necessary for you to die, but you selected, as you said, death before exile. But now you do not feel shame in the face of those words, nor do you heed us, the laws, but are attempting to destroy us, and you do [52d] the things which the worst slave would do, namely attempting to run away in violation of the compacts and agreements, in accordance with which you agreed with us to be a citizen. First of all, then, answer this for us, whether we are speaking the truth in saying that you have agreed to be a citizen in accordance with us in deed, but not in word, or whether we are not speaking the truth.” What are we to say to this, Crito? Anything other than that we agree?

C: It is necessary, Socrates.

S: “But in some other respect, then,” they might say, “you are transgressing the contracts with [52e] us ourselves and the agreements, not having agreed by force, nor having been deceived, nor having been compelled to take counsel with yourself in a short time, but over 70 years, during which you were able to go away, if we were not pleasing and the agreements were not seeming to you to be just. But you preferred neither Lacedaimon nor Crete, which, in fact, you are always saying are well-governed, nor any other [53a] of the Greek city-states, nor any of those of the barbarians, but you went away from it less than the lame and the blind and other disabled people: for it is clear that the city and we, the laws, were pleasing to you so much more than the other Athenians For to whom would a city be pleasing without laws? And now you will not remain true to the agreements you have made? But if you obey us, Socrates, you will; and you will not become a laughingstock for leaving the city.

"For consider, in transgressing these things and erring in regard to one of these things, what good will you do for yourself or your [53b] friends? For it is fairly clear that your friends will run the risk of themselves going into exile and being deprived of their city or losing their property. And you yourself, first of all, if you go into some one of the nearest cities, either to Thebes or to Megara—for both of them are well-governed—you will go as an enemy to their state, and as many as are concerned for their own cities will look upon you with suspicion, considering you a corrupter of the laws, and you will validate the decision of the judges, so as for it to seem that they [53c] judged correctly. For whoever is a corrupter of the laws would perhaps seem to be a corrupter of young and senseless men. Therefore will you flee the well-governed cities and the most orderly of men? And will it be worthwhile for you to live, in doing this? Or will you approach these and be shameless in speaking with them? And what words will you speak, Socrates? Or will you use the ones you used here, that virtue and justice are worth the most for men, as well as customs and laws? And don’t you think that the business of [53d] Socrates would seem to be unseemly? You must think so. But will you depart from these places, and will you go to Thessaly, to the friends of Crito? For there there is the greatest amount of disorder and licentiousness, and perhaps they might sweetly listen to you, how you laughably were running away from the prison, wrapping yourself in some apparel, taking a leather cloak or other such things which those running away are accustomed to dress themselves in, and changing your appearance. But will there be no one who will say that, as an old man, with there being a little bit of time left [53e] in your life, as it seemed, you endeavored to desire to live in such a tenacious way, transgressing the greatest laws? Perhaps, if you do not offend anyone; but if not, you will hear spoken about you, Socrates, many things unworthy of you. Indeed, you will live while fawning upon all men and being their slave. And doing what, other than being feasted in Thessaly, as if having run away to Thessaly so as to go to dinner? And those words of your about [54a] justice and other kinds of virtue—where will they be for you? But, in fact, do you want to live for the sake of your children, so that you may rear and educate them? Well, what of it? Bringing them into Thessaly, you will rear them and educate them, making them foreigners, so that they also may enjoy this? Or perhaps not this, but, being reared, with you being alive, will they be reared and educated better if you are not with them? For your friends will take care of them. If you go to Thessaly, will they take care of them, but if you go to Hades, will they not take care of them? For if there is any advantage in those [54b] who say that they are your friends, it is necessary to think so.

“But, Socrates, obeying us, your fosterers, consider neither your children nor living nor any other thing worth more than justice, so that going into Hades you may be able to defend yourself to those in charge there with regard to all of these things. For it does not seem to you here, doing these things, to be better, nor more just, nor more holy, nor does it seem so to any other of your friends, and nor will it be better for you once you have arrived there. But now, you will go away having been wronged, [54c] if you go away, not by us, the laws, but by men; but if you escape so shamefully, having done injustice for injustice and evil for evil, transgressing your agreements and compacts with us, and mistreating those whom it was least right to mistreat—namely you, yourself, and your friends, and your fatherland, and us—we will be angry with you while you are alive, and there, our brothers, the laws in Hades, will not receive you pleasantly, knowing that you attempted to destroy us, for your part. But do not let [54d] Crito persuade you to do what he says rather than what we say.”

Know well, dear friend Crito, that I seem to hear these things, just as the celebrants of the rites of the Corybantes seem to hear flutes, and in me an echo of these words resounds, and makes me not able to hear others. But know that as many things as now seem good to me, if you speak contrary to these, you will speak in vain. However, if you think you will achieve something more, speak.

C: But Socrates, I am not able to say anything.

[54e]

S: Then let it go, Crito, and let us act in this way, since in this way the god leads us.