Socr. So it is. But why did you come so early?
Cri. Bringing sad tidings, Socrates, not sad to you, as it appears, but to me, and all your friends, sad and heavy, and which I, I think, shall bear worst of all.
Socr. What tidings? Has the ship[6] arrived from Delos, on the arrival of which I must die?
Cri. It has not yet arrived, but it appears to me that it will come to-day, from what certain persons report who have come from Sunium,[7] and left it there. It is clear, therefore, from these messengers, that it will come to day, and consequently it will be necessary, Socrates, for you to die to-morrow.
[2]. Socr. But with good fortune, Crito, and if so it please the gods, so be it. I do not think, however, that it will come to day.
Cri. Whence do you form this conjecture?
Socr. I will tell you. I must die on the day after that on which the ship arrives.
Cri. So they say[8] who have the control of these things.
Socr. I do not think, then, that it will come to-day, but to-morrow. I conjecture this from a dream which I had this very night, not long ago, and you seem very opportunely to have refrained from waking me.
Cri. But what was this dream?