44b
λευκὰ ἱμάτια ἔχουσα, καλέσαι με καὶ εἰπεῖν: “ὦ Σώκρατες, “ἤματί κεν τριτάτῳ Φθίην ἐρίβωλον ἵκοιο.”
Κρίτων:
ἄτοπον τὸ ἐνύπνιον, ὦ Σώκρατες.
Σωκράτης:
ἐναργὲς μὲν οὖν, ὥς γέ μοι δοκεῖ, ὦ Κρίτων.
Κρίτων:
λίαν γε, ὡς ἔοικεν. ἀλλ', ὦ δαιμόνιε Σώκρατες, ἔτι καὶ νῦν ἐμοὶ πιθοῦ καὶ σώθητι: ὡς ἐμοί, ἐὰν σὺ ἀποθάνῃς, οὐ μία συμφορά ἐστιν, ἀλλὰ χωρὶς μὲν τοῦ ἐστερῆσθαι τοιούτου ἐπιτηδείου οἷον ἐγὼ οὐδένα μή ποτε εὑρήσω, ἔτι δὲ καὶ πολλοῖς δόξω, οἳ ἐμὲ καὶ σὲ μὴ σαφῶς ἴσασιν,
44b
and said, “Socrates, “on the third day thou wouldst come to fertile Phthia.”
Crito:
A strange dream, Socrates.
Socrates:
No, a clear one, at any rate, I think, Crito.
Crito:
Too clear, apparently. But, my dear Socrates, even now listen to me and save yourself. Since, if you die, it will be no mere single misfortune to me, but I shall lose a friend such as I can never find again, and besides, many persons who do not know you and me well