votes out of some 550. It now remained for himself to propose (as was the custom in such trials at Athens) some counter-penalty in place of death.
But now that he is a condemned criminal, his tone becomes even more lofty than before. Of right, he says, they should have honoured him as a public benefactor, and have maintained him, like an Olympic victor, at the expense of the nation. For his own part, he would not even trouble himself to propose an alternative penalty; but as his friends wish it, and will raise the sum (for he is too poor himself), then a fine of thirty minæ is what he will offer as the price of life.
Such a sum (£120) was plainly an utterly inadequate fine from an Athenian point of view, considering the gravity of the crimes of which he was accused, and that the utmost penalty of the law was the alternative. The question is again put to the vote, and Socrates is condemned to death—the majority this time being far larger than before.
Then he makes his farewell address to his judges. They have condemned him because he would not condescend to tears or entreaties; and perhaps if he had done so he might have escaped. But on such terms he prefers death to life, and indeed it is good for him to die; for death is either annihilation, where sense and feeling are not, or it is a passage of the soul from this world to another. In either case, he will be at rest. He will sleep for ever without a dream; or he will find in Hades better men, and a juster judgment, and truer judges, than he has found on earth; and
