“But I have known that since the day of my death, even long before.  And you, unfortunate Elpidias, tell me what caused your death?”

“Oh, with me, it was different, entirely different!  You see I got the dropsy in my abdomen.  An expensive physician from Corinth was called who promised to cure me for two minas, and he was given half that amount in advance.  I am afraid that Larissa in her lack of experience in such things gave him the other half, too——­”

“Then the physician did not keep his promise?”

“That’s it.”

“And you died from dropsy?”

“Ah, Socrates, believe me, three times it wanted to, vanquish me, and finally it quenched the flame of my life!”

“Then tell me—­did death by dropsy give you great pleasure?”

“Oh, wicked Socrates, don’t make sport of me.  I told you it wanted to vanquish me three times.  I bellowed like a steer under the knife of the slaughterer, and begged the Parcae to cut the thread of my life as quickly as possible.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.  But from what do you conclude that the dropsy was pleasanter to you than the hemlock to me?  The hemlock made an end of me in a moment.”

“I see, I fell into your snare again, you crafty sinner!  I won’t enrage the gods still more by speaking with you, you destroyer of sacred customs.”

Both were silent, and quiet reigned.  But in a short while Elpidias was again the first to begin a conversation.

“Why are you silent, good Socrates?”

“My friend; didn’t you yourself ask for silence?”

“I am not proud, and I can treat men who are worse than I am considerately.  Don’t let us quarrel.”

“I did not quarrel with you, friend Elpidias, and did not wish to say anything to insult you.  I am merely accustomed to get at the truth of things by comparisons.  My situation is not clear to me.  You consider your situation better, and I should be glad to learn why.  On the other hand, it would not hurt you to learn the truth, whatever shape it may take.”

“Well, no more of this.”

“Tell me, are you afraid?  I don’t think that the feeling I now have can be called fear.”

“I am afraid, although I have less cause than you to be at odds with the gods.  But don’t you think that the gods, in abandoning us to ourselves here in this chaos, have cheated us of our hopes?”

“That depends upon what sort of hopes they were.  What did you expect from the gods, Elpidias?”

“Well, well, what did I expect from the gods!  What curious questions you ask, Socrates!  If a man throughout life brings offerings, and at his death passes away with a pious heart and with all that custom demands, the gods might at least send some one to meet him, at least one of the inferior gods, to show a man the way. ...  But that reminds me.  Many a time when I begged for good luck in traffic in hides, I promised Hermes calves——­”