Just Myrto (19 page)

He raised my hand to his lips. I felt the warmth of his breath as he kissed the back of my hand. “I'm not asking you to do anything.”

I sat on the bed beside him. Menexenus stirred. “My head wants to see and hear for myself,” I said, “but my heart wants nothing to do with your accusers and their lies.”

I lifted Menexenus to my breast so that he could nurse. “Can I stand by your side throughout the trial?”

Socrates shook his head. “I must stand alone.”

I rocked Menexenus back and forth gently. “Can I sit on the jury and cast a vote for your innocence?”

Socrates chuckled. “Athena will cast her vote for acquittal.”

“Athena only gets to vote in case of a tie,” I replied. “If half of the jurors were women, I should think that would be enough. I do not trust a jury made up only of men.”

Socrates laughed. “I do not have the luxury of choosing my accusers or my jury,” said Socrates. “Do you think a jury of Amazon women would acquit?” His impish grin made me laugh, too.

“Five hundred Amazon women and Athena would do wonders for Athens!” I exclaimed. The idea of a government run entirely by women warriors amused us both greatly, and we laughed even harder. We laughed until we cried.

I looked at my husband and remembered how his features had struck me as odd the first time I saw him. But knowing him, living with him, laughing with him, and loving him had created an attraction beyond any I could have imagined.
And now … what will become of us?

“Seriously, Socrates,” I said, “are you prepared to give a speech in your own defense?”

“Seriously?” asked Socrates. “I try not to take myself too seriously, but I can assure you that I've lived my whole life preparing for this.”

“What will you say?” I asked, wiping the last of the tears from my eyes.

“I honestly don't know,” he replied. “Maybe nothing.” He stood and readied himself to go.

Sometimes nothing is everything.

“One thing you can be sure of, though,” Socrates said. He bent down and kissed Menexenus on the forehead before kissing me on the lips. “I'll make no apologies for who I am or the life I've lived.”

I carried Menexenus with me as we went out to greet the rest of the household. Lamprocles, Xanthippe and Korinna were sitting around the table eating figs and talking quietly.

Lamprocles jumped to his feet when he saw us. “You must get ready,” Lamprocles said to me. He reached out to take Menexenus from me. “It's time to go.”

“I'm not going,” I replied.

Lamprocles looked stunned. “How can you just not go?” Lamprocles asked throwing his outstretched hands up. “How can you not want to be there for him?”

“If he wanted me there, I would go,” I replied.

Socrates cleared his throat. “You're talking about me as if I weren't here.” He stood by the table and popped a fig in his mouth.

“I'm sorry, Father,” replied Lamprocles, “but I thought Myrto would be there.” Another look of bewilderment crossed his face. “Do you not wish for me to be there either?”

“Do you want to be there?” asked Socrates. He replaced the pit in his mouth with another fig.

“Yes, of course!” cried Lamprocles.

“Then I want you to be there,” Socrates replied. He turned to Korinna and Xanthippe. “Would you like to join us?”

Korinna nodded. Xanthippe shook her head.

“Very well, then,” Socrates said to Lamprocles and Korinna, “let's go.” He kissed both Xanthippe and me on the cheek before he left.

As soon as they were gone, Xanthippe motioned to me to sit beside her. “Are you sure you do not wish to go?” she asked. She pushed a plate of bread and figs toward me.

I shook my head. “There's nothing I can do,” I replied. “And I would rather do nothing here in peace than be part of an ugly crowd of confusion.”

“But sometimes having a wife and children there can make a difference,” Xanthippe said. “Sometimes the jurors feel sympathetic and their verdict is less harsh.”

Again I shook my head. I shifted Menexenus gently to my other arm.

“I think you should go,” Xanthippe said finally.

“You go,” I replied. “You were his wife long before I came along.”

Xanthippe slapped the table and cackled. “Me! I've never aroused sympathy in anyone.”

The loud noise startled the baby, and he began to cry. I walked with him, bouncing him to soothe him. “Shhh,” I whispered in his ear.

“See,” cried Xanthippe. “I irritate people even more than Socrates does!” Xanthippe looked exasperated. “Anything I do will only make matters worse.”

“Then stay here with me. We will do nothing together.”

Xanthippe sighed heavily and held her head in her hands.

Xanthippe did not know how to do nothing. I could hear her anxiously whispering prayers to Zeus, Apollo, Hera and Athena throughout the day. Mama Leda and the girls took care of Sophroniscus.

I cradled Menexenus in my arms all day. As long as I held him in my arms, there was no silent scream. I comforted myself by comforting him.

The afternoon grew long, and Xanthippe became even more fretful. They did not return even at sunset. “Why aren't they back yet?” Xanthippe asked no one in particular time and time again.

We knew. We both knew, but the knowing affected us differently. I became increasingly calm and aware. Xanthippe became increasingly agitated and distracted.

It was very late when Lamprocles and Korinna returned. Xanthippe and I were in the courtyard. She was pacing; I was rocking Menexenus.

“Where is Socrates?” Xanthippe asked when it became apparent that he was not with them.

Lamprocles embraced her, but said nothing. His eyes were glassy and swollen.

“Where is Socrates?” Xanthippe asked again.

Finally, Lamprocles replied, “He is in prison.” His voice sounded much older than it had this morning.

Xanthippe pushed away from his embrace, but Lamprocles did not release her.

“Guilty?” Xanthippe asked. “They found him guilty?”

Korinna nodded. “Guilty,” she said. “Two hundred and eighty votes for guilty and two hundred twenty votes for acquittal.” She looked at me. “If only thirty more men had voted to acquit …” She could not finish the thought. Her eyes, too, were puffy and red. She came and sat beside me.

“And the penalty?” asked Xanthippe. “Surely if so many voted to acquit, they must have been lenient in their punishment.”

Lamprocles shook his head. “Once they convicted him, an even greater number voted for a penalty of death.” Xanthippe groaned deeply and fell limp in Lamprocles' embrace. He brought her over to Korinna and me and sat her gently between us.

“How?” I asked. “How will he die?”

“Poison hemlock,” Korinna said softly.

“When?” I asked.

“I don't know,” Lamprocles replied. “The ship in honor of Theseus has only just set sail on its annual mission to Delos. Athens will not risk angering the gods by executing anyone before the ship returns.”

“And in the meantime?” I asked.

“He'll remain in the state prison,” replied Lamprocles.

Korinna nodded. “The guards put him in the largest cell. They said that we can visit whenever we like. Crito was still with him when we left.”

“Then I will go see him now,” I said.

“Now?” cried Lamprocles and Xanthippe in unison.

“At this hour?” Xanthippe asked.

“Wouldn't it be better to wait until tomorrow morning?” asked Lamprocles. “He'll be there for days, maybe even another month depending upon the winds.”

“Good,” I replied. “I can take Sophroniscus to see him later.” I turned to Korinna. “Would you prepare a satchel of wine and food for me to take with me while I put Menexenus in a sling and get ready to go?” Korinna nodded and went off to do as I asked.

Once I was ready, I turned to Xanthippe. “Do you wish to see him tonight?” I asked.

“Not tonight,” she said. “I will go with Lamprocles tomorrow.”

Lamprocles looked torn. He was exhausted and his mother needed him, yet I could see that he wanted to go with me.

“Let me walk with you,” said Korinna. “I will carry the satchel and a torch.”

Lamprocles nodded his approval. “At least let Korinna walk with you. The night is too black for you to walk alone in the darkness.”

S
OCRATES
DID
NOT
seem at all surprised to see us. I greeted him with a kiss. He embraced me and Menexenus in a single hug.

He turned to Korinna. “Thank you for bringing them to me safely.” Korinna's eyelids looked heavy. Socrates asked the guard if there was a bed where she might sleep. He seemed anxious to accommodate Socrates in every way. Korinna and Menexenus were soon nestled snugly into a bed in the guards' quarters.

Socrates' cell was actually quite large and well-furnished. “I've never heard of anyone having a couch or a table and chairs in prison,” I said.

“Isn't it lovely?” said Socrates. “Crito had them brought in.”

“Are you hungry?” I asked. “Korinna packed some food and wine for us.” I felt hunger in my own stomach from not having eaten all day. I began to spread out a meal on the table for us.

“I think I'm going to like it here,” said Socrates. He breathed in deeply and stretched his arms out as if embracing his prison cell. “It's very conveniently located near the Agora, don't you think?”

I sighed. “Very convenient.” I seated myself at the table. Socrates pulled up a chair and joined me.

Socrates talked as we ate, telling me not about his trial, but instead about a conversation he had with a young man named Euthyphro outside the court shortly before his trial began.

“Imagine this,” he said. “Just as I was contemplating for myself what piety really is, I ran into Euthyphro who understands piety so well that he had just filed murder charges against his own father.”

“Against his own father?” I asked. “How can that be pious? His father must have killed his mother or grandfather for a son to bring such charges!”

“That's what I thought,” said Socrates. He drank from the wineskin and then offered it to me. “But Euthyphro said it makes no difference whether the victim is a stranger or relative. Justice demands that the murderer be prosecuted.”

I shrugged my shoulders and kept eating. Socrates continued his tale.

“In fact, the victim in this case was a servant, and a murderer himself. Euthyphro's father had him bound and held after the servant had killed a household slave in drunken anger.”

“How did Euthyphro's father kill him?” I asked between bites.

“He didn't,” Socrates replied. “He sent a messenger to ask the priest what he should do with the servant, and the servant died of neglect before the messenger returned.”

“I can't imagine a son bringing murder charges against his own father in those circumstances,” I said. By this time I had eaten my fill, and my body was aching to lie down.

“By Zeus, that's what I thought!” Socrates exclaimed. “So I asked him, ‘Are you so confident in your knowledge of the divine, and of piety and impiety, that you have no fear of bringing such charges against your own father?' And do you know what he said?”

I shook my head.

“He assured me that piety demanded a good son to prosecute his father to the fullest extent allowed by the law,” Socrates replied. Socrates took my hand and walked me from the table over to the couch to lie down. He extinguished the lamps before lying down beside me.

I yawned and stretched. “I don't understand,” I said.

“Nor do I,” Socrates admitted. “Apparently, I don't understand piety at all.” He sighed. “But that's one good thing about you and me—at least we know that we don't know.”

Socrates was still talking about Euthyphro and piety as I drifted off to sleep.

I dreamed that I was sitting alone in a dark prison cell. I could hear Socrates voice behind me and see his shadow on the wall in front of me. I tried to turn around, but I could not move. I called out to him to come and sit beside me, but he did not come. I called out again, this time more loudly. A jailer came and told me to quiet down.

“Where is Socrates?” I asked him.

“Socrates is dead,” he replied.

“He can't be!” I exclaimed. “I just heard him. I just saw his shadow on the wall before me.”

“Your mind is playing tricks on you,” said the jailer. “Go back to sleep.”

“I cannot sleep,” I cried. “I must find Socrates.”

“You are dreaming,” said the jailer. “Socrates is dead.”

I awoke with a start. I was dreaming. Socrates was alive, right there beside me.
But for how much longer?

A streak of sunlight streamed into the room through a tiny window near the ceiling. I could see Socrates still sleeping beside me. I got up to check on Korinna and Menexenus. I lifted my child from the bed. Korinna stirred.

The jailer peeked his head in the room and asked if everything was all right.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied. “Are jailers always so kind?”

The jailer smiled. “We have never had a prisoner like Socrates. He is the noblest, the gentlest and the best man who has ever come here.”

Korinna and I walked back to Socrates' cell together. Crito and several others were already beginning to gather there.

“I must go now,” I told Socrates. “Xanthippe and Lamprocles will be here later, and I'll bring Sophroniscus to see you as well.”

Socrates nodded and kissed me goodbye.

“He seems awfully content for a man just sentenced to die,” said Korinna as we walked home together.

Over the next several days we settled into a routine. I spent the days at home and the nights with Socrates. Usually I would take Menexenus with me, but occasionally I would not. Lamprocles spent every day with Socrates. Xanthippe and Korinna would take Sophroniscus for a short visit every couple of days.