ΦΑΙΔ. οἱ δ’ ἄνθρωποι διὰ τὸ αὑτῶν δέος τοῦ θανάτου καὶ τῶν κύκνων καταψεύδονται, καί φασιν αὐτοὺς θρηνοῦντας τὸν θάνατον ὑπὸ λύπης ἐξᾴδειν, καὶ οὐ λογίζονται ὅτι οὐδὲν ὄρνεον ᾄδει ὅταν πεινῇ ἢ ῥιγῷ ἤ τινα ἄλλην λύπην λυπῆται, οὐδὲ αὐτὴ ἥ τε ἀηδὼν καὶ χελιδὼν καὶ ὁ ἔποψ, ἃ δή φασι διὰ λύπην θρηνοῦντα ᾄδειν. ἀλλ᾽ οὔτε ταῦτά μοι φαίνεται λυπούμενα ᾄδειν οὔτε οἱ κύκνοι, ἀλλ’ ἅτε οἶμαι τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος ὄντες, μαντικοί τέ εἰσι καὶ προειδότες τὰ ἐν Ἅιδου ἀγαθὰ ᾄδουσι καὶ τέρπονται ἐκείνην τὴν ἡμέραν διαφερόντως ἢ ἐν τῷ ἔμπροσθεν χρόνῳ. ἐγὼ δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ἡγοῦμαι ὁμόδουλός τε εἶναι τῶν κύκνων καὶ ἱερὸς τοῦ αὐτοῦ θεοῦ, καὶ οὐ χεῖρον ἐκείνων τὴν μαντικὴν ἔχειν παρὰ τοῦ δεσπότου, οὐδὲ δυσθυμότερον αὐτῶν τοῦ βίου ἀπαλλάττεσθαι. ἀλλὰ τούτου γ’ ἕνεκα λέγειν τε χρὴ καὶ ἐρωτᾶν ὅτι ἂν βούλησθε, ἕως ἂν Ἀθηναίων ἐῶσιν ἄνδρες ἕνδεκα. καλῶς, ἔφη, λέγεις, ὁ Σιμμίας· καὶ ἐγώ τέ σοι ἐρῶ ὃ ἀπορῶ, καὶ αὖ ὅδε, ᾗ οὐκ ἀποδέχεται τὰ εἰρημένα. ἐμοὶ γὰρ δοκεῖ, ὦ Σώκρατες, περὶ τῶν τοιούτων ἴσως ὥσπερ καὶ σοὶ τὸ μὲν σαφὲς εἰδέναι ἐν τῷ νῦν βίῳ ἢ ἀδύνατον εἶναι ἢ παγχάλεπόν τι, τὸ μέντοι αὖ τὰ λεγόμενα περὶ αὐτῶν μὴ οὐχὶ παντὶ τρόπῳ ἐλέγχειν καὶ μὴ προαφίστασθαι πρὶν ἂν πανταχῇ σκοπῶν ἀπείπῃ τις, πάνυ μαλθακοῦ εἶναι ἀνδρός· δεῖν γὰρ περὶ αὐτὰ ἕν γέ τι τούτων διαπράξασθαι, ἢ μαθεῖν ὅπῃ ἔχει ἢ εὑρεῖν ἤ, εἰ ταῦτα ἀδύνατον, τὸν γοῦν βέλτιστον τῶν ἀνθρωπίνων λόγων λαβόντα καὶ δυσεξελεγκτότατον, ἐπὶ τούτου ὀχούμενον ὥσπερ ἐπὶ σχεδίας κινδυνεύοντα διαπλεῦσαι τὸν βίον, εἰ μή τις δύναιτο ἀσφαλέστερον καὶ ἀκινδυνότερον ἐπὶ βεβαιοτέρου ὀχήματος, [ἢ] λόγου θείου τινός, διαπορευθῆναι. καὶ δὴ καὶ νῦν ἔγωγε οὐκ ἐπαισχυνθήσομαι ἐρέσθαι, ἐπειδὴ καὶ σὺ ταῦτα λέγεις, οὐδ’ ἐμαυτὸν αἰτιάσομαι ἐν ὑστέρῳ χρόνῳ ὅτι νῦν οὐκ εἶπον ἅ μοι δοκεῖ. ἐμοὶ γάρ, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἐπειδὴ καὶ πρὸς ἐμαυτὸν καὶ πρὸς τόνδε σκοπῶ τὰ εἰρημένα, οὐ πάνυ φαίνεται ἱκανῶς εἰρῆσθαι. καὶ ὁ Σωκράτης, ἴσως γάρ, ἔφη, ὦ ἑταῖρε, ἀληθῆ σοι φαίνεται· ἀλλὰ λέγε ὅπῃ δὴ οὐχ ἱκανῶς.
Phaedo. “ But men, because of their own fear of death, misrepresent the swans and say that they sing for sorrow, in mourning for their own death. They do not consider that no bird sings when it is hungry or cold or has any other trouble; no, not even the nightingale or the swallow or the hoopoe which are said to sing in lamentation. I do not believe they sing for grief, nor do the swans; but since they are Apollo’s birds, I believe they have prophetic vision, and because they have foreknowledge of the blessings in the other world they sing and rejoice on that day more than ever before. And I think that I am myself a fellow-servant of the swans; and am consecrated to the same God and have received from our master a gift of prophecy no whit inferior to theirs, and that I go out from life with as little sorrow as they. So far as this is concerned, then, speak and ask what ever questions you please, so long as the eleven of the Athenians permit.”“Good,” said Simmias. “I will tell you my difficulty, and then Cebes in turn will say why he does not agree to all you have said. I think, Socrates, as perhaps you do yourself, that it is either impossible or very difficult to acquire clear knowledge about these matters in this life. And yet he is a weakling who does not test in every way what is said about them and persevere until he is worn out by studying them on every side. For he must do one of two things; either he must learn or discover the truth about these matters, or if that is impossible, he must take whatever human doctrine is best and hardest to disprove and, embarking upon it as upon a raft, sail upon it through life in the midst of dangers, unless he can sail upon some stronger vessel, some divine revelation, and make his voyage more safely and securely. And so now I am not ashamed to ask questions, since you encourage me to do so, and I shall not have to blame myself hereafter for not saying now what I think. For, Socrates, when I examine what has been said, either alone or with Cebes, it does not seem quite satisfactory.” And Socrates replied: “Perhaps, my friend, you are right. But tell me in what respect it is not satisfactory.”
ΦΑΙΔ. ταύτῃ ἔμοιγε, ἦ δ’ ὅς, ᾗ δὴ καὶ περὶ ἁρμονίας ἄν τις καὶ λύρας τε καὶ χορδῶν τὸν αὐτὸν τοῦτον λόγον εἴποι, ὡς ἡ μὲν ἁρμονία ἀόρατον καὶ ἀσώματον καὶ πάγκαλόν τι καὶ θεῖόν ἐστιν ἐν τῇ ἡρμοσμένῃ λύρᾳ, αὐτὴ δ’ ἡ λύρα καὶ αἱ χορδαὶ σώματά τε καὶ σωματοειδῆ καὶ σύνθετα καὶ γεώδη ἐστὶ καὶ τοῦ θνητοῦ συγγενῆ. ἐπειδὰν οὖν ἢ κατάξῃ τις τὴν λύραν ἢ διατέμῃ καὶ διαρρήξῃ τὰς χορδάς, εἴ τις διισχυρίζοιτο τῷ αὐτῷ λόγῳ ὥσπερ σύ, ὡς ἀνάγκη ἔτι εἶναι τὴν ἁρμονίαν ἐκείνην καὶ μὴ ἀπολωλέναι — οὐδεμία γὰρ μηχανὴ ἂν εἴη τὴν μὲν λύραν ἔτι εἶναι διερρωγυιῶν τῶν χορδῶν καὶ τὰς χορδὰς θνητοειδεῖς οὔσας, τὴν δὲ ἁρμονίαν ἀπολωλέναι τὴν τοῦ θείου τε καὶ ἀθανάτου ὁμοφυῆ τε καὶ συγγενῆ, προτέραν τοῦ θνητοῦ ἀπολομένην — ἀλλὰ φαίη ἀνάγκη ἔτι που εἶναι αὐτὴν τὴν ἁρμονίαν, καὶ πρότερον τὰ ξύλα καὶ τὰς χορδὰς κατασαπήσεσθαι πρίν τι ἐκείνην παθεῖν — καὶ γὰρ οὖν, ὦ Σώκρατες, οἶμαι ἔγωγε καὶ αὐτόν σε τοῦτο ἐντεθυμῆσθαι, ὅτι τοιοῦτόν τι μάλιστα ὑπολαμβάνομεν τὴν ψυχὴν εἶναι, ὥσπερ ἐντεταμένου τοῦ σώματος ἡμῶν καὶ συνεχομένου ὑπὸ θερμοῦ καὶ ψυχροῦ καὶ ξηροῦ καὶ ὑγροῦ καὶ τοιούτων τινῶν, κρᾶσιν εἶναι καὶ ἁρμονίαν αὐτῶν τούτων τὴν ψυχὴν ἡμῶν, ἐπειδὰν ταῦτα καλῶς καὶ μετρίως κραθῇ πρὸς ἄλληλα — εἰ οὖν τυγχάνει ἡ ψυχὴ οὖσα ἁρμονία τις, δῆλον ὅτι, ὅταν χαλασθῇ τὸ σῶμα ἡμῶν ἀμέτρως ἢ ἐπιταθῇ ὑπὸ νόσων καὶ ἄλλων κακῶν, τὴν μὲν ψυχὴν ἀνάγκη εὐθὺς ὑπάρχει ἀπολωλέναι, καίπερ οὖσαν θειοτάτην, ὥσπερ καὶ αἱ ἄλλαι ἁρμονίαι αἵ τ’ ἐν τοῖς φθόγγοις καὶ ἐν τοῖς τῶν δημιουργῶν ἔργοις πᾶσι, τὰ δὲ λείψανα τοῦ σώματος ἑκάστου πολὺν χρόνον παραμένειν, ἕως ἂν ἢ κατακαυθῇ ἢ κατασαπῇ — ὅρα οὖν πρὸς τοῦτον τὸν λόγον τί φήσομεν, ἐάν τις ἀξιοῖ κρᾶσιν οὖσαν τὴν ψυχὴν τῶν ἐν τῷ σώματι ἐν τῷ καλουμένῳ θανάτῳ πρώτην ἀπόλλυσθαι. διαβλέψας οὖν ὁ Σωκράτης, ὥσπερ τὰ πολλὰ εἰώθει, καὶ μειδιάσας, δίκαια μέντοι, ἔφη, λέγει ὁ Σιμμίας. εἰ οὖν τις ὑμῶν εὐπορώτερος ἐμοῦ, τί οὐκ ἀπεκρίνατο; καὶ γὰρ οὐ φαύλως ἔοικεν ἁπτομένῳ τοῦ λόγου. δοκεῖ μέντοι μοι χρῆναι πρὸ τῆς ἀποκρίσεως ἔτι πρότερον κέβητος ἀκοῦσαι τί αὖ ὅδε ἐγκαλεῖ τῷ λόγῳ, ἵνα χρόνου ἐγγενομένου βουλευσώμεθα τί ἐροῦμεν, ἔπειτα [δὲ] ἀκούσαντας ἢ συγχωρεῖν αὐτοῖς ἐάν τι δοκῶσι προσᾴδειν, ἐὰν δὲ μή, οὕτως ἤδη ὑπερδικεῖν τοῦ λόγου. ἀλλ’ ἄγε, ἦ δ’ ὅς, ὦ Κέβης, λέγε, τί ἦν τὸ σὲ αὖ θρᾶττον [ἀπιστίαν παρέχει]. λέγω δή, ἦ δ’ ὃς ὁ Κέβης.
Phaedo. “In this,” said he, “that one might use the same argument about harmony and a lyre with its strings. One might say that the harmony is invisible and incorporeal, and very beautiful and divine in the well attuned lyre, but the lyre itself and its strings are bodies, and corporeal and composite and earthy and akin to that which is mortal. Now if someone shatters the lyre or cuts and breaks the strings, what if he should maintain by the same argument you employed, that the harmony could not have perished and must still exist? For there would be no possibility that the lyre and its strings, which are of mortal nature, still exist after the strings are broken, and the harmony, which is related and akin to the divine and the immortal, perish before that which is mortal. He would say that the harmony must still exist somewhere, and that the wood and the strings must rot away before anything could happen to it. And I fancy, Socrates, that it must have occurred to your own mind that we believe the soul to be something after this fashion; that our body is strung and held together by heat, cold, moisture, dryness, and the like, and the soul is a mixture and a harmony of these same elements, when they are well and properly mixed. Now if the soul is a harmony, it is clear that when the body is too much relaxed or is too tightly strung by diseases or other ills, the soul must of necessity perish, no matter how divine it is, like other harmonies in sounds and in all the works of artists, and the remains of each body will endure a long time until they are burnt or decayed. Now what shall we say to this argument, if anyone claims that the soul, being a mixture of the elements of the body, is the first to perish in what is called death?” Then Socrates, looking keenly at us, as he often used to do, smiled and said: “Simmias raises a fair objection. Now if any of you is readier than I, why does he not reply to him? For he seems to score a good point. However, I think before replying to him we ought to hear what fault our friend Cebes finds with our argument, that we may take time to consider what to say, and then when we have heard them, we can either agree with them, if they seem to strike the proper note, or, if they do not, we can proceed to argue in defence of our reasoning. Come, Cebes,” said he, “tell us what it was that troubled you.”“Well, I will tell you,” said Cebes.
ΦΑΙΔ. ἐμοὶ γὰρ φαίνεται ἔτι ἐν τῷ αὐτῷ ὁ λόγος εἶναι, καί, ὅπερ ἐν τοῖς πρόσθεν ἐλέγομεν, ταὐτὸν ἔγκλημα ἔχειν. ὅτι μὲν γὰρ ἦν ἡμῶν ἡ ψυχὴ καὶ πρὶν εἰς τόδε τὸ εἶδος ἐλθεῖν, οὐκ ἀνατίθεμαι μὴ οὐχὶ πάνυ χαριέντως καί, εἰ μὴ ἐπαχθές ἐστιν εἰπεῖν, πάνυ ἱκανῶς ἀποδεδεῖχθαι· ὡς δὲ καὶ ἀποθανόντων ἡμῶν ἔτι που ἔστιν, οὔ μοι δοκεῖ τῇδε. ὡς μὲν οὐκ ἰσχυρότερον καὶ πολυχρονιώτερον ψυχὴ σώματος, οὐ συγχωρῶ τῇ Σιμμίου ἀντιλήψει· δοκεῖ γάρ μοι πᾶσι τούτοις πάνυ πολὺ διαφέρειν. τί οὖν, ἂν φαίη ὁ λόγος, ἔτι ἀπιστεῖς, ἐπειδὴ ὁρᾷς ἀποθανόντος τοῦ ἀνθρώπου τό γε ἀσθενέστερον ἔτι ὄν; τὸ δὲ πολυχρονιώτερον οὐ δοκεῖ σοι ἀναγκαῖον εἶναι ἔτι σῴζεσθαι ἐν τούτῳ τῷ χρόνῳ; πρὸς δὴ τοῦτο τόδε ἐπίσκεψαι, εἴ τι λέγω· εἰκόνος γάρ τινος, ὡς ἔοικεν, κἀγὼ ὥσπερ Σιμμίας δέομαι. ἐμοὶ γὰρ δοκεῖ ὁμοίως λέγεσθαι ταῦτα ὥσπερ ἄν τις περὶ ἀνθρώπου ὑφάντου πρεσβύτου ἀποθανόντος λέγοι τοῦτον τὸν λόγον, ὅτι οὐκ ἀπόλωλεν ὁ ἄνθρωπος ἀλλ’ ἔστι που σῶς, τεκμήριον δὲ παρέχοιτο θοἰμάτιον ὃ ἠμπείχετο αὐτὸς ὑφηνάμενος ὅτι ἐστὶ σῶν καὶ οὐκ ἀπόλωλεν, καὶ εἴ τις ἀπιστοίη αὐτῷ, ἀνερωτῴη πότερον πολυχρονιώτερόν ἐστι τὸ γένος ἀνθρώπου ἢ ἱματίου ἐν χρείᾳ τε ὄντος καὶ φορουμένου, ἀποκριναμένου δή [τινος] ὅτι πολὺ τὸ τοῦ ἀνθρώπου, οἴοιτο ἀποδεδεῖχθαι ὅτι παντὸς ἄρα μᾶλλον ὅ γε ἄνθρωπος σῶς ἐστιν, ἐπειδὴ τό γε ὀλιγοχρονιώτερον οὐκ ἀπόλωλεν. τὸ δ’ οἶμαι, ὦ Σιμμία, οὐχ οὕτως ἔχει· σκόπει γὰρ καὶ σὺ ἃ λέγω. πᾶς [γὰρ] ἂν ὑπολάβοι ὅτι εὔηθες λέγει ὁ τοῦτο λέγων· ὁ γὰρ ὑφάντης οὗτος πολλὰ κατατρίψας τοιαῦτα ἱμάτια καὶ ὑφηνάμενος ἐκείνων μὲν ὕστερος ἀπόλωλεν πολλῶν ὄντων, τοῦ δὲ τελευταίου οἶμαι πρότερος, καὶ οὐδέν τι μᾶλλον τούτου ἕνεκα ἄνθρωπός ἐστιν ἱματίου φαυλότερον οὐδ’ ἀσθενέστερον. τὴν αὐτὴν δὲ ταύτην οἶμαι εἰκόνα δέξαιτ’ ἂν ψυχὴ πρὸς σῶμα, καί τις λέγων αὐτὰ ταῦτα περὶ αὐτῶν μέτρι’ ἄν μοι φαίνοιτο λέγειν, ὡς ἡ μὲν ψυχὴ πολυχρόνιόν ἐστι, τὸ δὲ σῶμα ἀσθενέστερον καὶ ὀλιγοχρονιώτερον· ἀλλὰ γὰρ ἂν φαίη ἑκάστην τῶν ψυχῶν πολλὰ σώματα κατατρίβειν, ἄλλως τε κἂν πολλὰ ἔτη βιῷ — εἰ γὰρ ῥέοι τὸ σῶμα καὶ ἀπολλύοιτο ἔτι ζῶντος τοῦ ἀνθρώπου, ἀλλ’ ἡ ψυχὴ ἀεὶ τὸ κατατριβόμενον ἀνυφαίνοι — ἀναγκαῖον μεντἂν εἴη, ὁπότε ἀπολλύοιτο ἡ ψυχή, τὸ τελευταῖον ὕφασμα τυχεῖν αὐτὴν ἔχουσαν καὶ τούτου μόνου προτέραν ἀπόλλυσθαι, ἀπολομένης δὲ τῆς ψυχῆς τότ’ ἤδη τὴν φύσιν τῆς ἀσθενείας ἐπιδεικνύοι τὸ σῶμα καὶ ταχὺ σαπὲν διοίχοιτο.
Phaedo. “The argument seems to me to be just where it was, and to be still open to the objection I made before. For I do not deny that it has been very cleverly, and, if I may say so, conclusively shown that the soul existed before it entered into this bodily form, but it does not seem to me proved that it will still exist when we are dead. I do not agree with Simmias’ objection, that the soul is not stronger and more lasting than the body, for I think it is far superior in all such respects. ‘Why then,’ the argument might say, ‘do you still disbelieve, when you see that after a man dies the weaker part still exists? Do you not think the stronger part must necessarily be preserved during the same length of time?’ Now see if my reply to this has any sense. I think I may, like Simmias, best express myself in a figure. It seems to me that it is much as if one should say about an old weaver who had died, that the man had not perished but was safe and sound somewhere, and should offer as a proof of this the fact that the cloak which the man had woven and used to wear was still whole and had not perished. Then if anyone did not believe him, he would ask which lasts longer, a man or a cloak that is in use and wear, and when the answer was given that a man lasts much longer, he would think it had been proved beyond a doubt that the man was safe, because that which was less lasting had not perished. But I do not think he is right, Simmias, and I ask you especially to notice what I say. Anyone can understand that a man who says this is talking nonsense. For the weaver in question wove and wore out many such cloaks and lasted longer than they, though they were many, but perished, I suppose, before the last one. Yet a man is not feebler or weaker than a cloak on that account at all. And I think the same figure would apply to the soul and the body and it would be quite appropriate to say in like manner about them, that the soul lasts a long time, but the body lasts a shorter time and is weaker. And, one might go on to say that each soul wears out many bodies, especially if the man lives many years. For if the body is constantly changing and being destroyed while the man still lives, and the soul is always weaving anew that which wears out, then when the soul perishes it must necessarily have on its last garment, and this only will survive it, and when the soul has perished, then the body will at once show its natural weakness and will quickly disappear in decay.”
ΦΑΙΔ. ὥστε τούτῳ τῷ λόγῳ οὔπω ἄξιον πιστεύσαντα θαρρεῖν ὡς ἐπειδὰν ἀποθάνωμεν ἔτι που ἡμῶν ἡ ψυχὴ ἔστιν. εἰ γάρ τις καὶ πλέον ἔτι τῷ λέγοντι ἢ ἃ σὺ λέγεις συγχωρήσειεν, δοὺς αὐτῷ μὴ μόνον ἐν τῷ πρὶν καὶ γενέσθαι ἡμᾶς χρόνῳ εἶναι ἡμῶν τὰς ψυχάς, ἀλλὰ μηδὲν κωλύειν καὶ ἐπειδὰν ἀποθάνωμεν ἐνίων ἔτι εἶναι καὶ ἔσεσθαι καὶ πολλάκις γενήσεσθαι καὶ ἀποθανεῖσθαι αὖθις — οὕτω γὰρ αὐτὸ φύσει ἰσχυρὸν εἶναι, ὥστε πολλάκις γιγνομένην ψυχὴν ἀντέχειν — δοὺς δὲ ταῦτα ἐκεῖνο μηκέτι συγχωροῖ, μὴ οὐ πονεῖν αὐτὴν ἐν ταῖς πολλαῖς γενέσεσιν καὶ τελευτῶσάν γε ἔν τινι τῶν θανάτων παντάπασιν ἀπόλλυσθαι, τοῦτον δὲ τὸν θάνατον καὶ ταύτην τὴν διάλυσιν τοῦ σώματος ἣ τῇ ψυχῇ φέρει ὄλεθρον μηδένα φαίη εἰδέναι — ἀδύνατον γὰρ εἶναι ὁτῳοῦν αἰσθέσθαι ἡμῶν — εἰ δὲ τοῦτο οὕτως ἔχει, οὐδενὶ προσήκει θάνατον θαρροῦντι μὴ οὐκ ἀνοήτως θαρρεῖν, ὃς ἂν μὴ ἔχῃ ἀποδεῖξαι ὅτι ἔστι ψυχὴ παντάπασιν ἀθάνατόν τε καὶ ἀνώλεθρον· εἰ δὲ μή, ἀνάγκην εἶναι ἀεὶ τὸν μέλλοντα ἀποθανεῖσθαι δεδιέναι ὑπὲρ τῆς αὑτοῦ ψυχῆς μὴ ἐν τῇ νῦν τοῦ σώματος διαζεύξει παντάπασιν ἀπόληται. πάντες οὖν ἀκούσαντες εἰπόντων αὐτῶν ἀηδῶς διετέθημεν, ὡς ὕστερον ἐλέγομεν πρὸς ἀλλήλους, ὅτι ὑπὸ τοῦ ἔμπροσθεν λόγου σφόδρα πεπεισμένους ἡμᾶς πάλιν ἐδόκουν ἀναταράξαι καὶ εἰς ἀπιστίαν καταβαλεῖν οὐ μόνον τοῖς προειρημένοις λόγοις, ἀλλὰ καὶ εἰς τὰ ὕστερον μέλλοντα ῥηθήσεσθαι, μὴ οὐδενὸς ἄξιοι εἶμεν κριταὶ ἢ καὶ τὰ πράγματα αὐτὰ ἄπιστα ᾖ.
ΕΧ. νὴ τοὺς θεούς, ὦ Φαίδων, συγγνώμην γε ἔχω ὑμῖν. καὶ γὰρ αὐτόν με νῦν ἀκούσαντά σου τοιοῦτόν τι λέγειν πρὸς ἐμαυτὸν ἐπέρχεται· «τίνι οὖν ἔτι πιστεύσομεν λόγῳ; ὡς γὰρ σφόδρα πιθανὸς ὤν, ὃν ὁ Σωκράτης ἔλεγε λόγον, νῦν εἰς ἀπιστίαν καταπέπτωκεν.» θαυμαστῶς γάρ μου ὁ λόγος οὗτος ἀντιλαμβάνεται καὶ νῦν καὶ ἀεί, τὸ ἁρμονίαν τινὰ ἡμῶν εἶναι τὴν ψυχήν, καὶ ὥσπερ ὑπέμνησέν με ῥηθεὶς ὅτι καὶ αὐτῷ μοι ταῦτα προυδέδοκτο. καὶ πάνυ δέομαι πάλιν ὥσπερ ἐξ ἀρχῆς ἄλλου τινὸς λόγου ὅς με πείσει ὡς τοῦ ἀποθανόντος οὐ συναποθνῄσκει ἡ ψυχή. λέγε οὖν πρὸς Διὸς πῇ ὁ Σωκράτης μετῆλθε τὸν λόγον; καὶ πότερον κἀκεῖνος, ὥσπερ ὑμᾶς φῄς, ἔνδηλός τι ἐγένετο ἀχθόμενος ἢ οὔ, ἀλλὰ πρᾴως ἐβοήθει τῷ λόγῳ; [ἢ] καὶ ἱκανῶς ἐβοήθησεν ἢ ἐνδεῶς; πάντα ἡμῖν δίελθε ὡς δύνασαι ἀκριβέστατα.
Phaedo. “And so we are not yet justified in feeling sure, on the strength of this argument, that our souls will still exist somewhere after we are dead. For if one were to grant even more to a man who uses your argument, Socrates, and allow not only that our souls existed before we were born, but also that there is nothing to prevent some of them from continuing to exist and from being born and dying again many times after we are dead, because the soul is naturally so strong that it can endure repeated births,—even allowing this, one might not grant that it does not suffer by its many births and does not finally perish altogether in one of its deaths. But he might say that no one knows beforehand the particular death and the particular dissolution of the body which brings destruction to the soul, for none of us can perceive that. Now if this is the case, anyone who feels confident about death has a foolish confidence, unless he can show that the soul is altogether immortal and imperishable. Otherwise a man who is about to die must always fear that his soul will perish utterly in the impending dissolution of the body.” Now all of us, as we remarked to one another afterwards, were very uncomfortable when we heard what they said; for we had been thoroughly convinced by the previous argument, and now they seemed to be throwing us again into confusion and distrust, not only in respect to the past discussion but also with regard to any future one. They made us fear that our judgment was worthless or that no certainty could be attained in these matters.
Echecrates. By the gods, Phaedo, I sympathize with you; for I myself after listening to you am inclined to ask myself: “What argument shall we believe henceforth? For the argument of Socrates was perfectly convincing, and now it has fallen into discredit.” For the doctrine that the soul is a kind of harmony has always had (and has now) a wonderful hold upon me, and your mention of it reminded me that I had myself believed in it before. Now I must begin over again and find another argument to convince me that when a man dies his soul does not perish with him. So, for heaven’s sake, tell how Socrates continued the discourse, and whether he also, as you say the rest of you did, showed any uneasiness, or calmly defended his argument. And did he defend it successfully? Tell us everything as accurately as you can.
Cite This Text