“To affirm positively, indeed, that these things are exactly as I have described them does not become a man of sense.  That, however, either this, or something of the kind, takes place with respect to our souls and their habitations—­since our soul is certainly immortal—­this appears to me most fitting to be believed, and worthy the hazard for one who trusts in its reality; for the hazard is noble, and it is right to allure ourselves with such things, as with enchantments, for which reason I have prolonged my story to such a length. 146.  On account of these things, then, a man ought to be confident about his soul who, during this life, has disregarded all the pleasures and ornaments of the body as foreign from his nature, and who, having thought that they do more harm than good, has zealously applied himself to the acquirement of knowledge, and who, having adorned his soul, not with a foreign, but its own proper ornament—­temperance, justice, fortitude, freedom, and truth—­thus waits for his passage to Hades, as one who is ready to depart whenever destiny shall summon him.  You, then,” he continued, “Simmias and Cebes, and the rest, will each of you depart at some future time, but now destiny summons me, as a tragic writer would say, and it is nearly time for me to betake myself to the bath, for it appears to me to be better to drink the poison after I have bathed myself, and not to trouble the women with washing my dead body.”

147.  When he had thus spoken, Crito said, “So be it, Socrates, but what commands have you to give to these or to me, either respecting your children, or any other matter, in attending to which we can most oblige you?”

“What I always say, Crito,” he replied, “nothing new that by taking care of yourselves you will oblige both me and mine, and yourselves, whatever you do, though you should not now promise it, and if you neglect yourselves, and will not live, as it were, in the footsteps of what has been now and formerly said, even though you should promise much at present, and that earnestly, you will do no good at all.”

“We will endeavor, then, so to do,” he said.  “But how shall we bury you?”

“Just as you please,” he said, “if only you can catch me, and I do not escape from you.” 148.  And, at the same time smiling gently, and looking round on us, he said, “I cannot persuade Crito, my friends, that I am that Socrates who is now conversing with you, and who methodizes each part of the discourse; but he thinks that I am he whom he will shortly behold dead, and asks how he should bury me.  But that which I some time since argued at length, that when I have drunk the poison I shall no longer remain with you, but shall depart to some happy state of the blessed, this I seem to have urged to him in vain, though I meant at the same time to console both you and myself.  Be ye, then, my sureties to Crito,” he said, “in an obligation contrary to that which he made to the judges (for