16. “Then, O Socrates, be persuaded by us who have nurtured you, and do not set a higher value on your children, or on life, or on any thing else than justice, that, when you arrive in Hades, you may have all this to say in your defence before those who have dominion there. For neither here in this life, if you do what is proposed, does it appear to be better, or more just, or more holy to yourself, or any of your friends; nor will it be better for you when you arrive there. But now you depart, if you do depart, unjustly treated, not by us, the laws, but by men; but should you escape, having thus disgracefully returned injury for injury, and evil for evil, having violated your own compacts and conventions which you made with us, and having done evil to those to whom you least of all should have done it, namely, yourself, your friends, your country, and us, both we shall be indignant with you as long as you live, and there our brothers, the laws in Hades, will not receive you favourably, knowing that you attempted, as far as you were able, to destroy us. Let not Crito, then, persuade you to do what he advises, rather than we.” 17. These things, my dear friend Crito, be assured I seem to hear, as the votaries of Cybele[11] seem to hear the flutes. And the sound of these words booms in my ear, and makes me incapable of hearing any thing else. Be sure, then, so long as I retain my present opinions, if you should say any thing contrary to these, you will speak in vain. If, however, you think that you can prevail at all, say on. ----- Footnote 11: The Corybantes, priests of Cybele, who in their solemn festivals made such a noise with flutes that the hearers could hear no other sound. ----- _Cri._ But, Socrates, I have nothing to say. _Socr._ Desist, then, Crito, and let us pursue this course, since this way the deity leads us. INTRODUCTION TO THE PHÆDO. This dialogue presents us with an account of the manner in which Socrates spent the last day of his life, and how he met his death. The main subject is that of the soul’s immortality, which Socrates takes upon himself to prove with as much certainty as it is possible for the human mind to arrive at. The question itself, though none could be better suited to the occasion, arises simply and naturally from the general conversation that precedes it.