“Nothing else but drink the poison; then walk, and when you find your limbs grow stiff, lie down upon your bed.” At the same time, he handed the cup to Socrates, who took it without emotion or change of countenance; then looking at the man with a steady eye, he said,—“Tell me, is it allowable to make a drink-offering of this mixture?” “Socrates,” the man replied, “we never prepare more than what is sufficient for one dose.”
“I understand you,” said Socrates; “but nevertheless, it is lawful for me to pray to God that he may bless my voyage, and render it a happy one.” Having said so, he raised the cup to his lips, and drank the poison with astonishing tranquillity and meekness. When Socrates looked around and saw his friends vainly endeavoring to stifle their tears, he said, “What are you doing, my companions? Was it not to avoid this, that I sent away the women? and you have fallen into their weakness. Be quiet, I pray you, and show more fortitude.”
In the mean time, he continued to walk, and when he felt his legs grow stiff, he lay down upon his back, as had been recommended. The person who gave Socrates the poison, then came forward, and, after examining his legs and feet, he bound them, and asked if he felt the cord. The dying philosopher answered, “No;” and feeling himself with his hand, he told his disciples, that “when the cold reached his heart, he should leave them.”
A few minutes afterwards, he exclaimed, “Crito, we owe a cock to Esculapius; do not forget to pay the debt.” These were the last words of Socrates. Such was the end of the great philosopher; and it may be truly said that he was one of the wisest, best, and most upright of all the Athenians.
In personal appearance Socrates was disagreeable: he had a sunken nose, and his eyes protruded so as to give him a strange appearance. It is supposed that he knew the shrewish temper of Xantippe, before he married her, and sought the alliance that she might give exercise to his patience. She tried every means to irritate him, and finding it impossible to rouse his anger, she poured some dirty water upon him from a window. “After thunder, we generally have rain,” was the only remark the philosopher deigned to make. Many other anecdotes are handed down, which show the wonderful command Socrates had acquired over himself.
