Believe me, with
whatever philosophy your souls may be armed, it is hard to perish by
execution. That's not all: your reputation which must be dear to you
will be tarnished throughout the centuries. Not only will all the
bigots laugh over your death, they will insult you, light the pyre on
which you will burn if they burn you, tighten the rope if they
strangle you, grind the Hemlock if they poison you. But they will
render your memory execrable to the entire future. You can easily
avoid such a funereal end. I will answer for saving your life, and
even will have you declared by the judges to be the wisest of men, as
you were by the oracle of Apollo. It's only a question of giving me
your pupil Aglaea. With the dowry you are giving her, understood. We
can easily break off her marriage with Sophronine. You will enjoy a
peaceable and honorable old age and the gods and goddesses will bless
you.
SOCRATES:
Guards! Take me to prison without further delay.
(They lead him away.)
ANITUS:
This man is incorrigible. It's not my fault. I have nothing to
reproach myself with. He must be abandoned to his reprobate opinions
and allowed to die unrepentant.
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