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ing that this is so, by their folly and utter ignorance are made like the one through their unjust actions and unlike the other, though they know it not. For this then they pay the penalty since they lead a life corresponding to that to which they conform. But if we tell them that unless they shake off this cleverness of theirs, even when they are dead they will not be received into that place which is purified from all evil, that after death they will pass an existence like to themselves, and that being themselves evil they will abide with evil—when they hear this from us, they will think that they are clever and shrewd and that we are fools.

THEO. Yes, Socrates, so it is.

Soc. I am sure of it, my friend. There is one thing, however, that happens to them, and that is that whenever they have to argue in private on these subjects which they condemn, if only they consent manfully to stand their ground for any length of time, instead of flying like cowards, they end by feeling strangely dissatisfied with themselves for saying what they have said. And all their fine rhetoric somehow or other withers up and they seem no better than children. However let us quit this topic, for all that we are saying now is but a digression. Unless we do so the original subject of our discourse will be completely buried by the continual influx of fresh ideas. Let us therefore return to our original argument, if you please.

THEO. A conversation of this kind is far from being unpleasant to me, Socrates, for it is easy to follow the lead of one so much older than myself. However, since you wish it, let us go back to our original argument.

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In all my wanderings through this world of care,
In all my griefs-and God has given my share-
I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown,
Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down;
To husband out life's taper at its close,
And keep the flame from wasting, by repose;
I still had hopes, for pride attends us still,
Amidst the swains to show my booklearn'd skill,
Around my fire an evening group to draw,
And tell of all I felt and all I saw;
And, as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue,
Pants to the place from whence at first it flew,
I still had hopes, my long vexations past,
Here to return-and die at home at last.


Terrarum quodcunque ærumnis lassus obivi

Nec pauca a divo sunt mala missa mihiSpes suberat tamen una—dies decorare supremos

Sub trabibus parvis hic, requieque frui, Jam defecturam vitæ producere flammam,

Vimque quiescentis posse fovere senis: Spes erat, ut senibus superest sua gloria, doctum

Me fore ruricolis semper in ore senem: Sub noctemque focum circa invitare sodales,

Quæ percepta oculis, quæ mihi mente, loqui. Utque, canes vocesque lepus quum fugit, anhelans

Unde loci primus venit et ante, redit:
Sic spes, emeritum longoque labore peracto,

Illa domûs intra limina nota mori.



So spake the grisly terror, and in shape
So speaking and so threatening grew tenfold.
More dreadful and deform: on the other side,
Incensed with indignation, Satan stood
Unterrified, and like a comet turned,
That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge
In the Arctic sky, and from his horrid hair
Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head
Levelled his deadly aim; their fatal hands
No second stroke intend; and such a frown
Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds,
With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on
Over the Caspian, then stand front to front,
Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow
To join their dark encounter in mid air:
So frowned the mighty combatants, that Hell
Grew darker at their frown, so matched they stood.

MILTON. P. L. Bk. ii. c. 704-720.

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