Phaedo. When Socrates heard this
 
 I thought
 he was pleased by Cebes’ earnestness, and glancing at us, he said, Cebes
 is always on the track of arguments and will not be easily convinced by whatever
 anyone says. And Simmias said, Well,
 Socrates, this time I think myself that Cebes is right. For why should really
 wise men run away from masters who are better than they and lightly separate
 themselves from them? And it strikes me that Cebes is aiming his argument at
 you, because you are so ready to leave us and the gods, who are, as 
 
 
 you yourself agree, good rulers. You have a right to say that, he replied;
 for I think you mean that I must defend myself against this accusation,
 as if we were in a law court. Precisely, said Simmias. Well, then, said he, I will try to make a more convincing
 defence than I did before the judges. For if I did not believe, said he,
 that I was going to other wise and good gods, and, moreover, to men who
 have died, better men than those here, I should be wrong in not grieving at
 death. But as it is, you may rest assured 
 
 
 that I expect to go to good men, though I should not care to assert this
 positively; but I would assert as positively as anything about such matters that
 I am going to gods who are good masters. And therefore, so far as that is
 concerned, I not only do not grieve, but I have great hopes that there is
 something in store for the dead, and, as has been said of old, something better
 for the good than for the wicked. Well, said Simmias, do you intend to go away, Socrates,
 
 
 
 and keep your opinion to yourself, or
 would you let us share it? It seems to me that this is a good which belongs in
 common to us also, and at the same time, if you convince us by what you say,
 that will serve as your defence. I
 will try, he replied. But first let us ask Crito there what he
 wants. He has apparently been trying to say something for a long
 time. Only, Socrates, 
 said Crito, that the man who is to administer the poison to you has been
 telling me for some time to warn you to talk as little as possible. He says
 people get warm when they talk and heat has a bad effect on the action of the
 poison; 
 
 
 so sometimes he has to make those who
 talk too much drink twice or even three times. And Socrates said: Never mind him. Just let him do his
 part and prepare to give it twice or even, if necessary, three
 times. I was pretty sure that
 was what you would say, said Crito, but he has been bothering me
 for a long time. Never mind
 him, said Socrates. Phaedo. I wish now to explain to you, my judges, the
 reason why I think a man who has really spent his life in philosophy is
 naturally of good courage 
 
 
 
 when he is to die, and has strong hopes that when he is dead
 he will attain the greatest blessings in that other land. So I will try to tell
 you, Simmias, and Cebes, how this would be.
 Other people are likely not to be aware that those who pursue
 philosophy aright study nothing but dying and being dead. Now if this is true,
 it would be absurd to be eager for nothing but this all their lives, and then to
 be troubled when that came for which they had all along been eagerly
 practicing. And Simmias laughed and
 said, By Zeus, 
 
 
 Socrates, I don’t feel
 much like laughing just now, but you made me laugh. For I think the multitude,
 if they heard what you just said about the philosophers, would say you were
 quite right, and our people at home would agree entirely with you that
 philosophers desire death, and they would add that they know very well that the
 philosophers deserve it. And they
 would be speaking the truth, Simmias, except in the matter of knowing very well.
 For they do not know in what way the real philosophers desire death, nor in what
 way they deserve death, nor what kind of a death it is. 
 
 
 Let us then, said he, speak with one another,
 paying no further attention to them. Do we think there is such a thing as
 death? Certainly, replied
 Simmias. We believe, do we not, that
 death is the separation of the soul from the body, and that the state of being
 dead is the state in which the body is separated from the soul and exists alone
 by itself and the soul is separated from the body and exists alone by itself? Is
 death anything other than this? No,
 it is this, said he. Now, my friend,
 see if you agree with me; 
 
 
 for, if you do, I
 think we shall get more light on our subject. Do you think a philosopher would
 be likely to care much about the so-called pleasures, such as eating and
 drinking? By no means,
 Socrates, said Simmias. How about
 the pleasures of love? Certainly
 not. Well, do you think such a
 man would think much of the other cares of the body—I mean such as the
 possession of fine clothes and shoes and the other personal adornments? Do you
 think he would care about them 
 
 
 or despise
 them, except so far as it is necessary to have them? I think the true philosopher would despise them, 
 he replied. Altogether, then, you think
 that such a man would not devote himself to the body, but would, so far as he
 was able, turn away from the body and concern himself with the
 soul? 
 
 Yes.