“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?”