Pseudoplatonica: Axiochus sive de morte

Exeunti ad Cynosarges mihi, cum ad Elissum venissem, vox cuiusdam allata est clamantis "Socrates, Socrates". Utque conversus circumspectabam unde ea redderetur, Axiochi filium video Cliniam, ad Callirhoën currentem cum Damone musico, Charmideque Glauconis filio. Horum alter quidem musicam docebat, alter ex familiaritate amabat, simulque amabatur. Visum est ergo mihi recta deflectenti ocurrere eis, ut quam primum conveniremus.

As I was going out to Cynosarges, when I had come to Elissus, a voice of someone was brought, crying "Socrates, Socrates." And as I turned and looked about whence it was returned, I see Clinias, son of Axiochus, running to Callirhoe with Damon the musician, and Charmides, son of Glaucon. One of these indeed was teaching music, the other loved it from familiarity, and was loved in turn. It therefore seemed good to me, turning aside directly, to meet them so that we might come together as soon as possible.

Perfusus autem lacrimis Clinias: Nunc tempus est, inquit, Socrates, ut vulgata semper de te sapientiam ostendas. Pater enim ex aliquo iam tempore viribus de improviso destitutus est et prope est exitum vitae, molesteque fert adesse sibi finem, tametsi antehac comtemneret mortem horrenda imagine exprimentes, comiterque derideret. Perge ergo, proque tua consuetudine illum confirma: ut volens eo, quo ducit necessitas, sequatur utque ille mihi ad reliqua hoc ipso etiam pie colatur.

Bathed however in tears, Clinias: Now is the time, he said, Socrates, that you exhibit the wisdom always vulgared about you. For my father has for some time now been suddenly deprived of strength and is near the exit of life, and he takes it ill to have the end present to him, although before he used to scorn death, representing it with a horrid image, and gently deride it. Proceed therefore, and according to your custom confirm him: so that, willing, he may follow where necessity leads, and that he may, by this very thing, be piously cared for by me for the remaining affairs.

So. Nullam me, Clinia, moderatum et honestam rem rogaveris frustra, quanto nunc magis, cum ad haec me voces pietatis officia. Acceleremus igitur. Si enim ita res se habt, festinato opus est.

So. Do not ask me, Clinia, for any moderate and honest thing in vain — how much more now, since you call me to these offices of piety. Let us therefore hasten. For if the matter stands thus, haste is required.

Cli. Ubi modo te viderit, Socrates, rectius habebit. Crebro enim iam evenit ei, ut examinatus rursus reficeretur.

Cli. As soon as he sees you, Socrates, he will be better disposed. For it now frequently happens to him that, having been examined, he is restored again.

So. Quo citius autem perveniremus, ea quae circa murum est, ad Itonas portas, ivimus. In proximo namque habitabat portae quae est apud Amazoniam columnam. Invenimus ergo eum assumptis rursum sensibus et corpore robustum, defectum vero mente, prorsusque indigentem consolationis, revolventem crebro se suspiriaque cum lacrimis atque manuum crepitu cientem.

So. That we might arrive the sooner, we went to those things near the wall, to the Itonian Gate. For in the neighborhood dwelt the gate which is by the Amazonian column. We therefore found him, his senses recovered again and his body robust, his mind however failing, and altogether in need of consolation, oft revolving his own sighs and uttering sighs with tears and the clapping of his hands.

Aspiciens autem illum, quid hoc, inquam, rei, Axioche? Ubi nobis illa pridem magnifica verba, continentesque laudes virtutum et maius quam ut dici posset in te animi robur? Sicut enim timidus athleta, cum in gymnasio insignem te praebueris, ad certamen ipsum defecisti.

Beholding him, I said, What is this, Axioche? Where are to us those magnificent words of old, and the continent praises of virtues and that strength of spirit greater than could be spoken of in you? For just as a timid athlete, when in the gymnasium you displayed yourself outstanding, has failed at the contest itself.

An non circumspecte considerabis naturam vir tanta aetate et rationi obsequens, utque nihil aliud, Atheniensis? Quod commune videlicet hoc et ab omnibus iactatum, peregrinatio quaedam vita est, quodque oportet peragrantes eam alacriter et tantum non paeana canentes, ad postremam accedere necessitatem: tam molliter vero habere se tamque aegre, pueri more divelli, nequaquam prudentiae prae se fert altioris aetatem.

Will you not consider circumspectly the nature of a man of so great an age and obedient to reason, and as if nothing else, Athenian? For this common thing, plainly boasted of by all, is a certain peregrination of life, and one which those who traverse it ought briskly—and almost singing paeana—to approach unto the final necessity: yet to hold himself so softly and so painfully, torn apart in the manner of boys, he by no means displays the age of higher prudentia.

Ax. Recte quidem, Socrates, ista mihi dicere videris: verum nescio quo pacto ubi propius accessit periculum, fortia illa grandiaque verba occulte subtolerant atque negliguntur. Oboritur autem metus quidam, mente multipliciter discerpens, si hac luce, hisque privabor bonis et expers mentis sensuumque iacebo ubicumque demum putrescens et in pulverem vermesque conversus.

Ax. Rightly indeed, Socrates, you seem to tell me those things: but I know not how it is that when danger has drawn nearer, those brave and grand words are secretly borne away and neglected. A certain fear rises up, tearing the mind in many ways, that if I am deprived of this light and of these goods and lie destitute of mind and of senses, I shall at last, wherever I am, putrefy and be turned into dust and into worms.

So. Imperfecte coniungis, Axioche, propter imperitiam, cum sensuum orbitate sensum, tibique ipse contraria facis et dicis: neque cogitas quod simul quidem defles id, quod sensibus carebis, simul ob putrefactionem doles amissionemque vitae oblectamentorum, veluti morte sis in aliam vitam transiturus, neque in omnimodam abiturus sensuum abolitionem et eandem in qua prius quam nascereris fuisti. Ut enim cum Draco Clisthenesque gubernabant rem publicam, nihil te mali habebat (necdum enim coeperas esse ut male tibi quid accidere posset) ita neque post mortem erit. Nullus enim ut male tibi esse quicquam possit, es futurum.

So. You join imperfectly, Axioche, through ignorance, sense to the loss of senses, and you yourself do and say contrary things: you do not consider that you will at once lament that which you will lack by being deprived of senses, nor that at the same time, on account of putrefaction, you grieve the loss of life’s delights, as if by death you were to pass into another life, nor that you will in any way undergo an abolition of the senses and be in the same state in which you were before you were born. For just as when Draco and Clisthenes governed the res publica nothing evil befell you (for you had not yet come to be such that anything evil could happen to you), so neither will it be after death. For you will be such that nothing can be evil to you.

Quin tu igitur hanc omnem discutis ineptiam, illud cogitans quod soluta simul hac compage, animoque rursus in proprium restituto locum, relictum istud corpus terrenum atque rationis expers amplius nequaquam est homo. Nos etenim anima sumus, animal immortale, mortali inclusum munimento. Hoc autem tabernaculum non sine malo nobis circumdedit natura, cuius laeta quidem abstrusa sunt et volucria, pluribusque doloribus admixta: tristia vero, improvisa, diuturna prorsusque, vacua gaudiorum.

But you therefore scatter this whole ineptitude, thinking that when this bond is loosed and the mind again restored to its proper place, that that left-behind earthly body, bereft of reason, is by no means any longer a man. For we are the anima, an immortal animal, enclosed in a mortal muniment. This tabernacle, however, nature has not surrounded us without evil, whose joyful things are indeed hidden and winged, and mingled with many pains: the sad things, on the other hand, are unforeseen, enduring throughout, and utterly void of joys.

Valetudines nempe, sentientium membrorum ulcera, morbi interni. Quibus necessario (quoniam per corporis meatus sparsa est) condolens anima coelestem et cognatum desiderat aethera, sitique cupide supernae illius consuetudinem gaudiaque vitae. Discessus itaque e vita, mali cuiusdam est in bonum commutatio.

Ailments indeed, the ulcers of the sensing members, internal diseases. To which necessarily (since through the passages of the body they are scattered) the soul, sympathizing, longs for the heavenly and kindred aether, and greedily thirsts for that supernal habit and the joys of life. The departure therefore from life is a transformation of a certain evil into a good.

Ax. Cum malum ergo, Socrates, vitam putes, quid ita vivere perseveras, cum rerum sis indagator et nobis, id est multitudini, intelligentia praestes?

Ax. Since, then, you regard life as evil, Socrates, why do you thus persevere in living, when you are an investigator of things and to us, that is to the multitude, you supply intelligence?

So. Nequaquam verum de me, Axioche, testimonium dicis. Arbitraris enim quemadmodum vulgus Atheniensium, quandoquidem res inquiro, alicuius quoque me scientiam habere. Abest autem tantum vi reconditiora sciam, ut voto optaverim etiam vulgata me ista novisse.

So. By no means do you bear true witness about me, Axioche. For you suppose, just as the common folk of the Athenians do, that because I inquire into matters I must therefore have some particular knowledge. Far from that: I know so little of the more recondite things that I would have wished, even by desire, to have known those things which are commonly known.

Sunt autem ista quae dico Prodici sapientis tradita, alia quidem duobus obolis, alia duabus, alia quattuor drachmis redempta. Gratis enim hic vir neminem docet, estque mos ei semper Epicharmi illud in ore habere "Manus manum fricat; da aliquid et aliquid cape". Nuper ergo cum apud Calliam Hipponici filium declamaret, tantis disseruit contra vitam, ut ego ad ea quae nullius sunt momenti, assumpserim vitam. Ex eoque iam in mortem mihi animus, Axioche, propendet.

But these things I speak were handed down by Prodicus the sage, some of them purchased for two obols, others for two, others for four drachmas. For this man teaches no one gratis, and it is his custom always to have that Epicharmian maxim on his lips, "One hand rubs another; give something and take something." Recently therefore, when he was declaiming at Callias, the son of Hipponicus, he argued so forcefully against life that I adopted a life devoted to things of no importance. And from that time my mind, Axioche, already inclines toward death.

Ax. Quae dixit autem?

Ax. What did he say, then?

So. Dicam equidem tibi ea, quorum mihi veniet in mentem. Quae enim pars, inquit, aetatis calamitatibus vacat? Non ne statim a principio plorat, ut primum natus est infans?

So. I will indeed tell you those things that come into my mind. For what part, he said, of life is free from calamities? Does not even an infant immediately cry from the very beginning, as soon as he is born?

Vitamque a lacrimis auspicatur? Quae tandem non premit cum molestia? Semper enim vel penuria, vel frigore, vel calore, vel verberibus urgetur.

And does he begin life with tears as an auspice? What portion, finally, is not pressed by affliction? For he is always harassed either by want, or by cold, or by heat, or by blows.

Antea quoque quam loqui possit, quanta patitur? Flens scilicet, hancque solam habens anxietati suae quaerelam. Ubi septimum dehinc expleverit annum multosque labores exhauserit: iam custodes, gymnasicae, magistri ludi, iam adolescenti, critici, geometrae, rei militaris praeceptores: ingens plane dominorum multitudo.

Moreover, before he can even speak, how much does he endure? Weeping, certainly, and having this sole complaint of his anxiety. When, then, he has completed his seventh year and has exhausted many labors: now guardians, gymnastic instructors, schoolmasters; and then, for the adolescent, critics, geometers, instructors of military affairs: plainly a vast multitude of masters.

Post ista ubi in Ephebos inscriptus est, prior iam metus Lyceum, Academia, gymnasiarchia, virgae, nullaque prorsus malorum mensura. Omne adeo adolescentis sub moderatoribus est tempus: qui ex Areopagi delecti concilio praesunt iuventuti. Deine cum fuerit istis exolutus, iam curae palam emergunt, reputatioque quod vivendi potissimum instituat iter: praeque sequentibus incommodis priora illa puerilia videntur et infantium revera territamenta: expeditiones enim et vulnera, perpetuique certaminum labores.

After these things, when he was enrolled among the Ephebes, the chief fear now was the Lyceum, the Academy, the gymnasiarchy, the rods, and truly no measure at all of evils. So entirely is the youth’s time under moderators: who, chosen from the council of the Areopagus, preside over the young. Then, when he has been freed from these, cares plainly emerge, and the consideration of what course of life should be taken primarily: and before the ensuing hardships those earlier boyish and in truth infantile terrors seem small — for there are expeditions and wounds, and the perpetual labors of contests.

Hinc iam fallens subrepit senectus: in qua confluit quicquid est infirmum fragileque naturae. Quod nisi ocius quis vitam velut aes alienum reddiderit: astans supra caput natura tamquam foenerator reposcit usuram. Ab alio quidem visum, auditum ab alio, persaepe utrumque.

Hence now, deceiving, old age creeps in: into which whatever is weak and fragile of nature flows. Which, unless one promptly renders life back as if it were a foreign coin, Nature, standing above the head like a usurer, demands interest. Seen by one, heard by another — very often both.

At si quis diutius cunctetur, debilitat eum, excruciat et artuum morbo afficit. Alii itaque multa senectute repuerascunt: animoque bis pueri fiunt senes. Dii ergo propter hoc ipsum (ut quibus est notissimae sint res humanae) quos plurimi faciunt, eos citius auferunt e vita.

But if anyone delays any longer, it weakens him, torments him, and afflicts his limbs with disease. Therefore others, through much old age, become childlike again: and in spirit boys twice over become old men. The gods therefore, for this very reason (that human affairs may be most known to them), remove from life more quickly those whom they make most numerous.

Agamedesitaque et Trophonius cum Pythii Apollinis aedificassent templum: orantes dari sibi quod optimum esset, cum obdormivissent, numquam deinde surrexerunt. Sic etiam Iunonis Argivae sacerdotes, precante matre eorum, ut gratiam eis aliquam Iuno pietatis illorum referret, cum enim cunctarentur iumenta, succedentes ipsi vehiculo matrem ad templum usque pertraxerant. Post preces ergo nocte decesserunt.

When Agamedes and Trophonius, having built a temple of Pythian Apollo, prayed to be granted what would be best for them, they fell asleep and never afterward rose. Thus also the Argive priests of Juno, their mother praying that Juno would show them some favour for their piety, — for when the beasts delayed, they themselves, mounting the vehicle, had dragged their mother all the way to the temple — after their prayers departed by night.

Longum foret autem poetarum dicta recensere qui divinioribus poematis ea quae ad vitam pertinent nostram, velut ex oraculo decantant, quemadmodum deploret illam. Uniusque solum memoratu dignissimi sat habeo meminisse: qui inquit

It would be long, moreover, to recite the sayings of the poets who, in their more divine poems, chant forth those things that pertain to our life as from an oracle, and how he laments that matter. Of one only, most worthy of remembrance, I deem it sufficient to have recalled: who says

Ax. Sunt ista, Socrates, ut dicis: itaque ex eo suggesti me satietas cepit, neque mihi quicquam acerbius republica visum est. Perspicuum id quidem illis qui in ipso sunt negotio versati. Tu namque dicis haec, veluti qui de sublimi spectaveris: nos vero qui fecimus periculum, quanto exactius scimus?

Ax. These things are so, Socrates, as you say: and therefore from that rostrum satiety seized me, nor did anything seem more bitter to me than the republic. That is indeed plain to those who are occupied in the business itself. For you speak these things as one who has looked on from above; but we, who made the peril, how much more precisely do we know?

Populus enim, carissime Socrates, ingratus est, morosus, crudelis, invidus, imperitus: ut qui sit ex colluvie turbae et stultis insolentibus collectus. Huic autem qui assentatur, multo ipse miserior est.

For the people, most dear Socrates, is ungrateful, morose, cruel, envious, unskilled — as if one were made up of the colluvies of a crowd and collected from insolent fools. But he who assents to such a man is himself far more to be pitied.

So. Quando igitur, Axioche, hanc quae liberalis maxim abominandam putas, quid reliqua vitae genera? An non putabimus prorsus esse fugienda? Audivi etiam Prodicum quandoque dicentem, quod nihil quicquam neque ad viventes mors, neque ad defunctos pertineret.

Then when, Axioche, this thing which you deem most abominable in a liberal person is considered, what of the other kinds of life? Shall we not reckon them wholly to be shunned? I have also heard Prodicus once say that death in no way pertains either to the living or to the dead.

Ax. Quomodo dicis ista, Socrates?

Ax. How do you say those things, Socrates?

So. Quoniam neue circa viventes est: hi vero qui obierunt, non sunt amplius. Itaque neque apud te est: nondum enim obiisti, neque si quid tibi accidat, est cirac te futura. Non enim eris.

So. Since he is neither among the living: those, however, who have died, are no more. Therefore he is not with you either: for you have not yet died, nor, if anything should befall you, are things future with respect to you — for you will not be.

Stultus est igitur dolor de Axiocho, qualis neque est, neque futurus sit, Axiochum mente torqueri: sitque simile, veluti Scyllam, aut si quis Centaurum reformidet, quae neque iam imminent tibi, neque sint umquam ad exitiu tuum affutura. Existentium enim rerum est metus: quae non sunt autem, nemo est qui pertimescat.

Therefore it is foolish pain about Axiochus, a pain which neither is nor will be, that Axiochus be tormented in mind: and let it be like, as with Scylla, or if anyone recoils again from a Centaur, things which neither now threaten you nor will ever be about your destruction. For fear belongs to things that exist: for things that do not exist, there is no one who is afraid.

Ax. Tu quidem docta haec verba ex ea quae nunc pullulat, garrulitate protulisti. Illinc enim haec sunt verborum ineptiae, illiciendae iuventuti apparatae. Me vero amissio bonorum quae sunt in vita, tristem reddit: etsi, Socrates, probabiliorem etaim hac quam modo dixisti, crepueris orationem.

Ax. You indeed have produced these learned words out of that which now sprouts, brought forth by garrulity. For thence come these ineptitudes of words, prepared to be pitched upon the young. But the loss of the goods that are in life makes me sad: yet, Socrates, you have made the argument even more plausible by this than you just now stated.

Non enim errabunda iam mens ducitur apte cohaerentibus verbis: neque contingunt mentem ista: sed in ostentationem splendoremque orationis parata multum absunt a veritate. At animi aegritudo captiosis nequaquam sistitur verbis: sed illis acquiescit solum quae valeant ad mentem usque penetrare.

For a mind no longer wandering is not aptly guided by coherent words: those things do not touch the mind; but, being prepared for the ostentation and splendour of oratory, they are far removed from truth. Yet the disease of the soul is by no means stayed by captious words: it rests only in those that are able to penetrate right into the mind.

So. Coniungis imprudenter, Axioche, et bonorum privationi malorum substitutis sensum, oblitus quod tunc mortuus sis futurus. Eum namque qui bona amittit, contraria laedunt quae pariter mala. At qui non est, nihil in eius quo privatur, locum recipit.

So. You join imprudently, Axioche, and, substituting evils for the privation of goods, you misconceive the sense, forgetting that then you will be dead. For him who loses goods, contrary things wound him which are equally evils. But he who does not exist—nothing of that from which he is deprived finds place in him.

Quomodo ergo esse posset ullus in eo dolor, quod nullam laedentium notitiam exhibebit? Quod si non ab initio, Axioche, per imprudentiam unum aliquem sensum cum morte componeres, nequaquam metueres eam. Nunc ipse te subvertis, timens amissum iri animam, aliamque animam illius amissioni circumdas.

How then could there be any dolor in that, since it will exhibit no notitiam of those injuring it? But if not from the beginning, Axioche, through imprudentia you were to join some single sensus to death, you would by no means fear it. Now you overturn yourself, fearing that the animam will be lost, and you surround that loss of animam with another animam.

Et turbaris quod sis sine sensus futurus, hocque ipsum non sentire alio te sensu comprehensurum putas. Ad haec multae sunt perpulchrae de animi immortalitate rationes. Neque enim mortalis natura in tam varias res attolere sese posset, ut contemneret ingentium ferarum vires, respublicas constitueret, respiceret etiam in coelum et astrorum videret revolutiones, cursusque solis et lunae, ortus item et occasus: defectus, celeritatem, distantias, aequinoctiaque et duplices conversiones, Pleiadum etiam et hiemis atque aestatis ventos, imbriumque casus et horrendos turbinum raptus, ut comprehensos quoque mundi labores saeculis traderet: nisi divinus quidam mentibus nostris spiritus inesset: quo compexum notitiamque tantarum attingeret rerum.

And you are disturbed that you will be without senses, and you suppose that this very thing you will apprehend by another sense. To these things there are many very fair reasons concerning the immortality of the soul. For a mortal nature could not lift itself up to such varied matters, so as to contemn the powers of huge beasts, to found republics, to look up even to the sky and see the revolutions of the stars, the courses of sun and moon, likewise their risings and settings: their failings, velocities, distances, the equinoxes and the double returns, even the Pleiades and the winds of winter and summer, the fall of rains and the dreadful snatchings of whirlwinds, so as to hand down the labors of the world as also encompassed to the ages—unless some divine spirit were present in our minds, by which complex apprehension and the knowledge of so great things would be attained.

Transis itaque non in mortem, Axioche, sed in immortalitatem: non in amissionem bonorum, sed in sinceriorem eorum perceptionem, neque ad voluptates mortali confusas corpori, sed ab omnibus prorsus molestiis purgatas. Illuc enim ex hoc solutus carcere proficisceris, ubi requieta laetaque omnia et nulla fatiscentia senecta: tranquillamque illic perages vitam, ab omnibus liberam incommodis et serena placidam quiete, rerum contemplans naturam: atque philosophiae non ad turbam, neque in speciem, sed ad puram germanamque deditus veritatem.

You therefore pass not into death, Axioche, but into immortality: not into the loss of goods, but into a more sincere perception of them, nor into pleasures confused with the mortal body, but wholly cleansed from all molesties. For thence, freed from this prison, you will set forth to that place where all things are at rest and joyful and no wasting old age: and there you will lead a tranquil life, free from all inconveniences and with serene placid repose, contemplating the nature of things; and devoted to philosophy not toward a crowd, nor to mere appearance, but to pure and genuine truth.

Ax. In contrarium me, Socrates, hac oratione distulisti. Non enim metus iam me, sed desiderium tenet mortis. Utque ego rhetores imitatus grandius aliquid dicam, iamdudum superna mente concipio et immensum illum divinumque recenseo cursum, collegique ex infirmitate me: sumque iterum quasi novus effectus.

Ax. You have turned me the other way, Socrates, with this speech. For it is no longer fear that holds me, but a desire for death. And, as I, imitating the rhetoricians, may speak somewhat more grandly, for some time now with my higher mind I conceive and review that immense and divine course, and I gather myself up from infirmity: and I am again, as if made new.

So. Si vis autem aliam etiam ratione cape, quam retulit mihi Gobryas Magus. Is dicebat secundum Xerxis in Graeciam transitum avum suum sibi cognomine missum esse in Delum, quo eam tueretur insulam, in qua bina sunt numina prognata. Ibi illum ex aeneis quibusdam tabulis quas attulissent ab Hyperboreis Opis et Hecaergus, didicisse animam posteaquam a corpore sit exoluta, in ignotum quendam locum subterraneo discedere recessu, in quo Plutonis sit regia nihilo minor quam aula Iovis.

So. If you will take yet another account also in reason, that which Gobryas the Magus related to me. He said that, according to Xerxes, for the passage into Greece his grandfather had been sent to Delos under that cognomen, to guard that island, in which two numina are born. There he learned from certain brazen tablets which Opis and Hecaergus had brought from the Hyperboreans that the soul, after it is loosed from the body, withdraws by a subterranean retreat into some unknown place, in which Pluto’s palace is in no respect less than the aula of Jove.

Terra etenim mundi medium tenente, ambitum eius esse globosum: cuius alterum quidem semiorbem dii superi acceperint, inferi alterum: atque hi quidem fratres illorum, hi vero filli fratrum. Vestibula autem qua aditus ad Plutonis est regnum, ferreis esse claustris atque clavibus offirmata. Aperientem illa fluvius excipit Acheron, post quem Cocytus est.

For the earth, holding the middle of the world, has a spherical circuit: of which one half the gods above have taken, the under-gods the other: and these indeed are the brothers of those, those the sons of the brothers. The vestibules by which the approaches to Plutonis’ kingdom are made are strengthened with iron boltes and keys. The opening is met by the river Acheron, after which is Cocytus.

Eos ubi quis traiecerit, ad Minoem et Rhadamanthum est accedere necesse. Vocant hunc campum veritatis, inque eo iudices sedent, ecognoscentes eorum qui advenerint unicuiusque vitam et qua quisque ratione corpus inhabitant aetatem peregerit. Nec mentiendi illic ulla facultas.

When anyone has been ferried to them, it is necessary to go before Minos and Rhadamanthus. They call this the Field of Truth, and upon it the judges sit, examining the life of each who has arrived and by what manner each completed the span of age while the body was inhabited. Nor is there any faculty of lying there.

Quibuscumque autem in vita melior aspiraverit daemon, ii sedes incolunt piorum: ubi omnes horae scatent omnigena fructuum ubertate, fontes puris labuntur aquis, variis prata omnimoda floribus vernant, conventus sunt philosophorum, theatra poetarum, exultantium coronae musicique concentus. Ad haec instructa diligenter convivia et ipsa sese suppeditans affluentia victus immortalis hilaritas, ratioque vitae iucundissima. Non enim frigus illis, non aestus est gravis, sed temperatus aer funditus mitibus solis radiis illustratus.

Whichever men in life a better daemon has sought, they dwell in the abodes of the pious: where every hour teems with an all‑kind ubertate of fruits, springs glide with pure waters, varied meadows bud forth with every sort of flower, there are gatherings of philosophers, theatres of poets, crowns of those exulting and the concord of music. Added to these are carefully arranged convivia and abundance itself supplying sustenance, immortal hilarity, and the most delightful rule of life. For neither cold afflicts them, nor is heat oppressive, but a tempered air throughout is illuminated by the mild rays of the sun.

Hic etiam initiatis est dignatio quaedam et religiosa ibidem quoque peragunt sacra. Quomodo ergo non hic tibi honro habebitur cognato deorum? Herculem namque Liberumque patrem descendentes ad inferos priscus est sermo hic initiatos fuisse et fiduciam quo illuc irent, ab Eleusina conceptam esse.

Here also is a certain dignation for the initiated, and religious rites are likewise performed there. How therefore will he not be held in honour by you as a kinsman of the gods? For ancient report says that Hercules and Liber the father, descending to the infernal regions, were initiated here, and that the confidence by which they went thither was conceived from the Eleusinian rites.

At illi quibus per scelera vita fuerit peracta, per Tartarum a Furiis ad erebum chaosque rapiuntur, ubi impiorum est locus, inexplebilesque Danai filiarum urnae, ubi Tantali sitis, praecordia Tityi, Sisyphi inexplicitum. Ibi circumlambentibus adusti et omnium poenarum afflicti cruciatu, tormentis laniantur immensis. Ista quidem ex Gobrya ego audivi, tuum vero de eis erit, Axioche, iudicium.

But those whose life has been completed by crimes are snatched by the Furies through Tartarus to Erebus and Chaos, where is the place of the impious, and the unfillable urns of the Danaid daughters, where Tantalus’s thirst, the entrails of Tityus, and Sisyphus’s unrelieved toil. There, burned as they circle and afflicted with the torment of all punishments, they are mangled by immense tormentors. I indeed heard these things from Gobryas; your judgment about them, however, Axioche, will be the arbiter.

Illud namque ratione adductus solum scio constanter, quod omnis immortalis est anima quaecumque ex hoc loco transfertur et prorsus expers doloris. Sive sursum ergo, Axioche, sive deorsum beatus sis oportet, qui probe pieque vixisti.

For that I know firmly, led by reason alone, that every soul—whichever is transferred from this place—is immortal and altogether free of pain. Therefore, whether upwards, Axioche, or downwards, it is fitting that you be blessed, you who lived rightly and piously.

Ax. Pudet me, Socrates, dicere tibi quiddam. Tantum abest ut timeam mortem, ut nunc eius etiam tenear amore, usque adeo et haec mihi et illa persusasit quasi coelestis oratio. Contemno etiam vitam, ut qui sim in melius domicilium transiturum recensebo.

Ax. I am ashamed, Socrates, to tell you something. So far is it from me that I fear death, that now I am even held by love of it; to such an extent have both this and that persuaded me, as if by a heavenly oration. I even contemn life, and shall reckon myself one who is about to pass into a better domicile.

Tu vero meridie fac adsis mihi, Socrates.

But you, Socrates, be present for me at midday.

So. Faciam ut dixisti. Ego quoque ad Cynosarges unde vocatus sum redeo ad deambulationem.

So. I will do as you said. I also return to Cynosarges, whence I was called, for my deambulation (walk).