Historical Miniatures. August Strindberg
Читать онлайн книгу.
hemlock, and kept in prison, where, however, he was allowed to see his wife and his few remaining friends.
Just now his wife was with him, and wept.
“Weep not,” said Socrates; “it is not your fault.”
“Will you see the children?”
“Why should I lacerate their little souls with a useless leave-taking? Go to them and comfort them; divert their minds with an expedition to the woods.”
“Shall we rejoice while you are dying?”
“Rejoice that my sufferings come to an end! Rejoice that I die with honour.”
“Have you no last wish?”
“I wish for nothing, except peace and freedom from your foolish tears and sighs, and your disturbing lamentations. Go, woman, and say to yourself that Socrates wants to sleep for he is tired and out of humour; say to yourself that he will wake again, refreshed, rejuvenated, happy and amiable.”
“I wish you had taught me all this before.”
“you had nothing to learn from me.”
“Yes! I have learnt from you patience and self-control.”
“Do you forgive me?”
“I cannot, for I have done it already. Say farewell now, as though I were going on a journey. Say ‘We meet again,’ as though I were soon returning!”
“Farewell, then, Socrates, and be not angry with me.”
“No, I am always well-disposed towards you.”
“Farewell, my husband, for ever.”
“Not for ever. You wish to see me again, don’t you? Put on a cheerful face, and say, ‘We meet again.’”
“We meet again.”
“Good! and when we meet again, we will go with the children together into the woods.”
“Socrates was not what I thought he was.”
“Go! I want to sleep.”
She went, but met in the doorway Plato and Crito.
“The hour approaches, friends,” said Socrates wearily, and with feverish eyes.
“Are you calm, Master?”
“To say the truth, I am quite calm. I will not assert that I am joyful, but my conscience does not trouble me.”
“When, Socrates, when—will it happen?”
“You mean, When is it to happen,—the last thing? Plato, my friend, my dearest… it hastens.... I have just now enjoyed a sleep. I have been over the river on the other side; I have seen for a moment the original forms of imperishable Beauty, of which things on earth are only dim copies.... I have seen the future, the destinies of the human race; I have spoken to the mighty, the lofty, and the pure; I have learnt the wise Order which guides the apparent great disorder; I trembled at the unfathomable secret of the Universe of which I had a glimmering perception, and I felt the immensity of my ignorance. Plato, you shall write what I have seen. You shall teach the children of men to estimate things at their proper value, to look up to the Invisible with awe, to revere Beauty, to cultivate virtue, and to hope for final deliverance, as they work, through faithful performance of duty and self-renunciation.”
He went to the bed, and lay down.
Plato followed him, “Are you ill, Master?”
“No, I have been; but now I am getting well.”
“Have you already....”
“I have already emptied the cup!”
“Our Wisest leaves us.”
“No mortal is wise! But I thank the gods who gave me modesty and conscience.”
There was silence in the room.
“Socrates is dead!”
FLACCUS AND MARO
After the death of Socrates, the greatness of Athens was no more. Sparta ruled for a time, and then came the turn of Thebes. Subsequently the Macedonians invaded the country, and governed it till the year 196 B.C., when the Romans conquered both Macedonia and Greece, and completely destroyed Corinth, but spared Athens, which was deprived of its fortifications under Sulla, on account of the great memories which gathered round it.
Now, in Julius Caesar’s time, it had become the fashion to send youths to Athens to study Grammar, Rhetoric, and Philosophy there. There was no great philosopher there, but they studied the history of philosophy. There was also no religion, for no one believed on the gods of the State, although, from old habit, they celebrated the sacrificial feasts.
Athens was dead, and so was the whole of the ancient world—Egypt, Syria, Asia Minor. In Rome they lived on the memories of the past of Greece, and the greatest Roman, Cicero, when he wished to discuss some philosophic theme, always commenced by citing the opinions of the ancient Greeks on the subject; he also closed in the same way, for he had no original opinion of his own on any subject, such as the nature of the gods, &c.
One early spring day, during the last years of Julius Caesar, two students sat in an arbour below Lykabettos, opposite the college of Kynosarges. Wine was on the table, but they did not seem very devoted to their yellow “Chios.” They sat there with an air of indifference, as though they were waiting for something. The same atmosphere of lethargy seemed to pervade their surroundings. The innkeeper sat and dozed; the youths in the college opposite lounged at the door; pedestrians on the high road went by without greeting anyone; the peasant in the field sat on his plough, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
The elder of the two students fingered his glass, and at last opened his mouth.
“Say something!”
“I have nothing to say, for I know nothing.”
“Have you already learnt everything?”
“Yes.”
“I came yesterday from Rome with great hopes of being able to learn something new and of hearing something remarkable, but I hear only silence.”
“My dear Maro, I have been here for years, and I have listened, but heard nothing new. I have heard in the Poikile that Thales maintained that there were no gods, but that everything had been produced from moisture. I have further heard Anaximines’ doctrine that air was the source of all things; Pherecydes’ doctrine of ether as the original principle; Heraclitus’ doctrine of fire. Anaximander has taught me that the universe came from some primitive substance; Leucippus and Democritus spoke to me of empty space with primitive corpuscles or atoms. Anaxagoras made believe that the atom had reason. Xenophanes wished to persuade me that God and the Universe were one. Empedocles, the wisest of the whole company, despaired at the imperfection of reason, and went in despair and flung himself head foremost into Etna’s burning mountain.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.