with yourself. For in many places, and wherever you go, men will love
you; and if you are disposed to go to Thessaly, I have friends there who
will esteem you very highly, and will insure your safety, so that no one
in Thessaly will molest you.

5. Moreover, Socrates, you do not appear to me to pursue a just course
in giving yourself up when you might be saved; and you press on the very
results with respect to yourself which your enemies would press, and
have pressed, in their anxiety to destroy you. Besides this, too, you
appear to me to betray your own sons, whom, when it is in your power to
rear and educate them, you will abandon, and, so far as you are
concerned, they will meet with such a fate as chance brings them, and,
as is probable, they will meet with such things as orphans are wont to
experience in a state of orphanage. Surely one ought not to have
children, or one should go through the toil of rearing and instructing
them. But you appear to me to have chosen the most indolent course;
though you ought to have chosen such a course as a good and brave man
would have done, since you profess to have made virtue your study
through the whole of your life; so that I am ashamed both for you and
for us who are your friends, lest this whole affair of yours should seem
to be the effect of cowardice on our part--your appearing to stand your
trial in the court, since you appeared when it was in your power not to
have done so, the very manner in which the trial was conducted, and this
last circumstance, as it were, a ridiculous consummation of the whole
business; your appearing to have escaped from us through our indolence
and cowardice, who did not save you; nor did you save yourself, when it
was practicable and possible, had we but exerted ourselves a little.
Think of these things, therefore, Socrates, and beware, lest, besides
the evil _that will result_, they be disgraceful both to you and to us;
advise, then, with yourself; though, indeed, there is no longer time for