The Visit at Dawn

The cell is dark, and Crito has been sitting beside Socrates in silence. He did not want to wake him — the philosopher's ability to sleep peacefully with execution three days away is, Crito says, the most astonishing thing he has ever seen. When Socrates wakes he is unsurprised; he knew Crito was there. He is also, in the first lines of the dialogue, demonstrably unhurried. He asks what time it is. He asks why the guard let Crito in. He asks how long Crito has been sitting there. He is in no danger of being overcome by the urgency that has driven his friend across the city before dawn.

The news is that the ship from Delos — whose arrival signals the day of execution — is close. People coming from Sunium have seen it there; it will probably dock tomorrow. When it does, the sentence must be carried out. Crito has come precisely because there is still, barely, time. He has money ready. He has foreign friends who will receive Socrates and keep him safe. He has thought through everything except Socrates's consent, which he has come to collect.

Socrates listens and then demurs on the timing. Last night — or just now, he corrects himself — he had a dream. A beautiful woman in white appeared and spoke a line from Homer: "on the third day from now you shall arrive in fertile Phthia." He takes this as a sign the ship will not arrive until the day after tomorrow, giving him a day still to live. Crito thinks the dream is strange. Socrates finds the meaning clear enough. He is not afraid. At his age he should not be. Crito observes that plenty of old men facing death are still afraid. Socrates concedes the point — and asks what Crito actually came to say.