A-《王石：道路与梦想》-5

齐贝说：“不死，或不朽。”“灵魂和死是不相容的吗?”“不相容。”“那么灵魂是不朽的。”“对。”苏格拉底说：“好啊，我们能说，这巳经证明了吗?”“是的，苏格拉底，非常美满地证明了。”苏格拉底说：“那么，齐贝，假如单数是决计不能消灭的，数字里的三也是消灭不了的吗?”“当然。”“假如热的反面是消灭不了的，那么，热去进攻雪的时候，雪不就及早回避，保存着它的完整也不融化吗？因为冷是不能消灭的，雪和热是不能并存的。”齐贝说：“这很对呀。”“我想，照同样道理，假如冷的反面是不可消灭的，火如果逼近任何形式的冷，火不会消灭，它会回避，不受损害。”齐贝说：“这是一定的。”“至于不朽，不也该是同样道理吗？假如不朽的也不可毁灭，灵魂碰到了死，灵魂也不可能消灭。因为我们的论证已经说明，灵魂不可能容纳死而同时又不死，正像我们说的三这个数字不会成双，单数不能是双数，火和火里的热不能是冷。不过，也许有人会说，单数如果碰到双数，单数不会成双（这是我们已经同意的），可是单数就不能消灭了让双数来替代吗？如果我们只说会回避，他就没什么可说的了。关于火和热等等的相反不相容，都可以这样回答，不是吗?”“是的。”“所以，关于不朽的问题也一样。假如大家承认不朽就不可消灭，灵魂既然是不朽的，灵魂也不可消灭。如果不承认不朽的不可消灭，那就再得辩论了。”齐贝说：“关于这个问题，不用再辩论，不朽的就是永远不会消灭的。如果不朽的还会消灭，那么，不论什么东西，都是不免要消灭的了。”苏格拉底说：“我想，我们大家都同意，上天和生命的原理以及不朽的其他种种，永远不会消灭。”齐贝说：“大家都一定会同意，而且，我想，连天上的神灵也都同意。”“那么，不朽既然就不可毁灭，灵魂如果不朽，灵魂也就不可消灭了，不是吗?”“这是一定的。”“那么，一个人死了，属于凡人的部分就死掉了，不朽的部分就完好无损地离开了死亡。”“看来是这么回事。”苏格拉底说：“齐贝啊，灵魂不朽也不可消灭，巳经充分肯定了，我们的灵魂会在另一个世界上的某一地方生存。”齐贝说：“这一点，我没什么可反驳的了。我对你的结论，也不能不信了。不过，假如西米或者随便谁还有什么要说的，最好这会儿就说吧。如果关于这类问题，谁要是想说什么话或者想听到什么话，错过了当前就没有更好的时候了。”西米说：“关于我们这番讨论的结果呢，我也没法儿疑惑了。不过，我们谈论的题目太大，我又很瞧不起世人的虚弱，所以我对刚才的议论，心眼儿里免不了还有点儿疑疑惑惑。”苏格拉底说：“不但题目太大，而我们又很虚弱，还有个问题呢。西米啊，我们最初提出的一个个假设，尽管你们觉得正确，还应该再加仔细考察。你得先把一个个假设分析透彻，然后再随着辩论，尽各自的人力来分别是非。如果能照这样把事情弄明白，你就不用再追究了。”西米说：“这话对。”苏格拉底说：“可是我的朋友啊，有句话我们该牢记在心。假如灵魂是不朽的，我们该爱护它，不仅今生今世该爱护，永生永世都该爱护。现在我们可以知道，如果疏忽了它，危险大得可怕。因为啊，假如死可以逃避一切，恶人就太幸运了。他们一死，他们就解脱了身体，甩掉了灵魂，连同一辈子的罪孽都甩掉了。可是照我们现在看来，灵魂是不朽的。它不能逃避邪恶，也不能由其他任何方法得救，除非尽力改善自己，尽力寻求智慧。因为灵魂到另一个世界去的时候，除了自身的修养，什么都带不走。据说，一个人死了，他的灵魂从这个世界到那个世界的一路上，或是得福，或是受灾，和他那灵魂的修养大有关系。据他们说呀，一个人死了，专司守护他的天神就把他的亡灵带到亡灵聚集的地方。他们经过审判，就有专司引导亡灵的神把他们送到另一个世界上去。他们得到了应得的报应，等到指定的时间，就另有专管接引他们回来的神经过了几个时代又把他们领回这个世界来。这段道路并不像埃斯库罗斯(Aeschylus)(23)的戏剧里忒勒夫司（Telephus)(24)说的那么样。他说从这个世界到底下那个世界，要过一条单独的路。我想这条路既不单独，也不止一条。如果只有单独一条路，就不用领导也不会走错。我看了世俗的丧葬仪节，料想这条路准有很多岔口，而且是弯弯绕绕的。守规矩、有智慧的灵魂跟随自己的领导，也知道自己的处境。可是我上面说的那种恋着自己肉体的灵魂就东闪西躲地赖在看得见的世界上，赖了好久，挣扎了好一阵，也受了不少罪，终于给专司引导的神强拽硬拖着带走了。这种灵魂是不纯洁的，生前做过坏事，如谋害凶杀之类。它到了其他亡灵集合的地方，别的灵魂都鄙弃它，不屑和它做伴儿或带领它，它孤单单地在昏暗迷惘中东走西转地摸索了一阵子，到头来就被押送到它该去的地方去了。可是有的灵魂生前是纯洁而又正派的，它有天神陪伴，领导它到合适的地方去居住。这个地球上有许多奇妙的地方呢。有些人大约是根据某某权威的话吧，说地球有多么大小呀，地球这样那样呀，我觉得都没说对。”西米说：“苏格拉底，你这话什么意思？我本人就听到过许多有关地球的话，却是不知道你相信地球是什么样的。我很想听听(25)”“哎，西米，要讲讲我对地球的设想，我不必有葛劳库斯（Glaucus)(26)的本领也办得到。不过，如果证明我讲的是真实，那就太困难了；我即使有葛劳库斯的本领，恐怕也办不到。而且，西米啊，即使我能证明，我也没这时间，不等我讲完，我就得送命了。反正现在也没什么事要干的，我不妨讲讲我相信地球是个什么形状，也讲讲地球上的许多地方。”西米说：“好啊，这么讲就行啊。”苏格拉底说：“第一，如果地球是圆的，而且在天空的当中，我相信它不用空气或别的力量托着，它自有平衡力，借四周同等性质的力量，保持着自己的位置。因为一件平衡的东西，位居中心，周围又有同类的力量扶持着，它就不会向任何一方倾斜，它永远保持着原先的位置。这是我相信的第一件事。”西米说：“这是对的。”苏格拉底说：“第二，我相信这地球很大。我们住在大力神岬角(27)和(River Phasis)斐西河之间的人，只是住在海边一个很小的地方，只好比池塘边上的蚂蚁和青蛙；还有很多很多人住在很多同样的地方呢。我相信地球上四面八方还有大大小小各式各样的许多空间，都积聚着水和雾和空气。可是地球本身是纯洁的。地球在纯洁的天上。天上还有星星。经常谈论天上等等事情的人把天称作太空。水呀、雾呀、空气呀都是太空的沉淀，汇合在一起，流到地上的空间(28)。我们不觉得自己是生活在空间，却自以为在地球的表面上。这就好比生活在海洋深处的人，自以为是在海面上。他从水底看到太阳和星星，以为海就是天。他因为懒惰或身体弱，从没有升到水面上去，探出脑袋，看一看上面的世界。上面世界的人，也无缘告诉他：上面远比他生活的世界纯净优美。我相信我们正是同样情况。我们住在空气的中间，自以为是在地球的表面上。我们把空气当作天，以为这就是有星星运行的天。我们也是因为体弱或懒惰，不能升到空气的表面上去。假如谁能升到空气的表面上，或是长了翅膀飞上去，他就能探出脑袋看看上面的世界，像海里的鱼从海面探出脑袋来看我们这个世界一样。假如人的体质能经受上面的情景，他也许会看到真的天、真的光、真的地球。至于我们的这片土地，这许多石头和我们生活的整个地区，都经过腐蚀，早巳损坏了；正像海底的东西，也都已经给海水侵蚀了。我们可以说，海里长不出什么有价值的东西，也没有完美的东西，只有洞穴和沙子，还有没完没了的烂泥，就连海里的沙滩也不能和我们这世界上的好东西比较呀。可是我们上面那个世界的东西，准比我们这个世界上的又优美得多。西米啊，我可以给你们编个故事，讲讲天空里这个地球的形形色色，好听着呢。”西米说：“苏格拉底，你讲呀，我们准爱听。”苏格拉底说：“好啊，我的朋友，我就从头讲。据说地球从天上看下来，就像那种盖着十二瓣皮子的皮球。地球的表面，不同的区域有不同的颜色。我们这里看到的颜色，只好比画家用的颜色，只是那种种颜色的样品罢了。整个地球绚丽多彩，比我们这里看到的明亮得多，也清澈得多呢！有一处是非常美丽的紫色，一处金色，一处白色，比石灰或雪都白，还有各种颜色。我们这里看到的就没那么多、也没那么美。因为地球上许多空间都充满了水和空气。水和空气照耀着各种颜色，也反映出颜色来，和其他的颜色混在一起，就出现了千变万化的颜色。这美丽的地球上生长的东西，树呀、花呀、果呀，也一样的美。山和石头也都美。比我们空间的山和石头光滑、透明，颜色也更好看。我们珍贵的宝石像缠丝玛瑙呀，水苍玉呀，翡翠呀等等，其实不过是从地球表面的山石上掉落的碎屑罢了。地球表面上所有的东西，都像那里的山石一样美，也许更美呢。因为那里的石头是纯粹的，不像我们这空间的石头，肮里肮脏，浸泡在海水里，又被空间积聚的蒸气和流液腐蚀败坏了。这种种垢污把空间的泥土、石头、动物、植物都变丑了，而且都有病了。地球的表面却装饰着各种宝石和金银等珍贵的东西。一眼就看得见，又多又大，满处都是，所以地球好看极了，谁能看上一眼就是天赐的福分。那里也有动物，也有人。有人居住在陆地内部；有人居住在靠近空气的边岸上，就像我们居住海边一样；也有人居住在沿大陆的岛上，四周都是空气。总而言之，我们的水和海呢，就相当于他们的空气；我们的空气呢，就相当于他们的太空。那里气候调度得合适，人不生病，寿命也比我们长。住在那边的人，视觉、听觉、智慧等各方面都比我们优越，就好比空气比水纯净、太空比空气纯净一样。他们也有神圣的林荫路和神庙。真有天神住在那庙里。他们能和天神交往，或是听到天神的语言，或是受到天神的启示，或是看见天神显形。他们能看到太阳、月亮、星星的真实形象。他们还有种种天赐的幸福，和以上说的都一致。“这就是总的说说地球和地球表面的形形色色。整个地球上许许多多空间有不少区域呢。有的空间比我们居住的还要深还要广。有的比我们的深，但是不如我们的空旷。也有些空间比我们浅，但是更宽敞些。所有这些空间的地底下，都有天然凿就的孔道，沟通着分布地下的水道。一个个空间都是彼此通联的。水道有大有小。有些水道，几处的水都涌进去，冲搅融汇成一潭。地底下还有几条很大很大的河，河水没完没了地流。河水有烫的，也有凉的。地下还有很多火，还有一条条火河，还有不少泥石流，有的泥浆稀，有的稠，像西西里（Sicily)喷发熔岩之前所流的那种。还有熔岩流。这种种河流，随时流进各个空间的各处地域。地球里有一股振荡的力量，使种种河流有涨有落地振荡。我且讲讲这振荡的道理。原来地底下有许多裂缝。最大的一条缝裂成了一道峡谷，贯穿着整个地球。这就是荷马诗里所说的：遥远处，在地底最深的深渊(29)里；他和其他诗人有时就称为地狱(30)。所有的河流都流进这个深渊，又从这里流出去。每条河流过什么土地，就含蕴着那片土地的性质。为什么所有的河流都要在这条深渊里流出流进呢？因为这些流质没有着落，也没有基础，所以老在有涨有落地振荡。附近的空气和风也跟着一起振荡。流质往那边灌注，空气和风就往那边吹；往这边灌注，就向这边吹，恰像呼吸那样吸进去又呼出来。风随着流质冲出冲进，就造成强烈的风暴。水退到我们称为下界的地方，就灌入下界的河流，好像是泵进去的，把下界的河流都灌满。水流出下界，返回上面这边的时候，就把这边的河流灌满。灌满之后，水就随着渠道，或流进地里，随着各自的方向流到各种地方，或是汇集成海，或是成为沼泽地，或是流成小河小溪。然后水又流到下界去。有几股水要流过好几处很大的地域，有的流过的地方少，区域也小，反正都又返回地狱。这些流质流进地狱的入口，有的比地上的出口低许多，有的稍微低些，不过入口总比原先的出口低。有的顺着它原先的河道流回地狱，有的从对面的河道流回地狱，也有的绕成圆圈儿，像蛇似的顺着地球一圈或几圈，然后落入深渊的最深处。水可以从峡谷的两头流到中心去，不过到了最深的中心就流不出去了，因为两旁都是峭壁。“地下的河流很多、很大，种类也不同。主要有四条大河，最大的一条河在最外层，名叫大洋河（Oceanus)。它绕着地球流成一圈。逆着大洋河流的是苦河（Acheron)。苦河流过几处沙漠，流进地的下层，汇成苦湖。多半亡灵都投人这个湖里，或长或短地待满了指定的期限，又送出去投胎转生。第三条河在这两条河的中间。它源头附近是一大片焚烧着熊熊烈火的地区，灌上水就成为沸滚着水和泥浆的湖，湖比我们的地中海还大。混浊的泥浆从湖里流出来流成一圈，弯弯绕绕地流过许多地方，流到苦湖边上，但是和苦湖的水各不相犯。这条河又回到地底下回旋着流，然后从更低的地方流入地狱，这就是火河(Pyriphlegethon)。各处地面上喷发的熔岩流都是火河的支流。第四条大河逆着火河流。这是从荒凉阴森的地方冒出来的。那儿是一片深黑深黑的蓝色，像天青石那样的黑蓝色。这条河叫冥河（Stygian River),冥河汇集成冥湖(Styx)。湖里的水饱含着荒凉阴森的气息，在地底下逆着火河绕着圈儿流进苦湖，和火河相会。这条河的水也和其他河流各不相犯。这股水再流出来，绕着圈儿流到火河对面，落入地狱。据诗人说这段河流名叫呜咽河（Cocytus)。“这是下界河流的一般情况。且说人死了，他们的守护神就把亡灵带去受审，凭他们生前是否善良虔诚，判处该当的报应。假如他们一生没什么好，也没作恶，就有船只把他们渡过苦河，关进苦湖，他们就待在苦湖里洗炼。如果他们做过坏事，就得受惩罚，然后得到赦免。如果行过好事，就各按功德给予报答。有人犯了大罪，看来是不可救药了，例如屡次严重地亵渎神明，或是恶毒卑劣地谋杀人，或是犯了同类的罪行，他们就给投入地狱，永远出不来了。这是他们命该如此。不过，也有可以挽救的。例如有人一时感情激动，不由自主，伤害了父母，然后终身痛悔的；也有同样情况下杀了人的。这种人的亡灵也该投人地狱。但是一年之后，翻滚的浪头会把他们抛出地狱，杀人犯的亡灵抛入呜咽河，伤害父母的亡灵抛入火河，他们各由河流送入苦湖。他们在苦湖里大声叫唤他们的受害者，哀求饶恕，让他们脱离苦湖。假如他们获得饶恕，就离开苦湖，不再受罪；假如得不到宽恕，他们又返回地狱，以后再抛入呜咽河或火河再入苦湖，直到获得宽恕为止。这是判官们处分他们的刑罚。至于德行出众的人，他们不到下界去，他们的死只好比脱离牢狱，从此就上升净地，住到地球的表面上去了。凡是一心用智慧来净化自己的人，都没有躯体，在那儿一起住着，将来还要到更美的地方去。怎么样儿的美好，不容易形容，咱们现在也没有足够的时间了。”“不过，西米啊，为了我们上面讲的种种，我们活一辈子，应该尽力修养道德、寻求智慧，因为将来的收获是美的，希望是大的。““当然，一个稍有头脑的人，绝不会把我所形容的都当真。不过有关灵魂的归宿，我讲的多多少少也不离正宗吧。因为灵魂既然不死，我想敢于有这么个信念并不错，也是有价值的，因为有这个胆量很值当。他应当把这种事像念咒似的反反复复地想。我就为这个缘故，把这故事扯得这么长。有人一辈子不理会肉体的享乐和装饰，认为都是身外的事物，对自己有害无益；他一心追求知识；他的灵魂不用装饰，只由自身修炼，就点缀着自制、公正、勇敢、自由、真实等种种美德；他期待着离开这个世界，等命运召唤就准备动身。这样的人对自己的灵魂放心无虑，确是有道理的。西米、齐贝和你们大伙儿呀，早晚到了时候也都是要走的。不过我呢，现在就要走了，像悲剧作家说的，命运呼唤我了，也是该我去洗澡的时候了。我想最好还是洗完澡再喝毒药，免得烦那些女人来洗我的遗体。”克里等他讲完就说：“哎，苏格拉底，我们能为你做些什么事吗？关于你的孩子，或者别的事情，你有什么要嘱咐我们的吗?”他回答说：“只是我经常说的那些话，克里啊，没别的了。你们这会儿的承诺没什么必要。随你们做什么事，只要你们照管好自己，就是对我和我家人尽了责任，也是对你们自己尽了责任。如果你们疏忽了自己，不愿意一步步随着我们当前和过去一次次讨论里指出的道路走，你们就不会有什么成就。你们现在不论有多少诺言，不论许诺得多么诚恳，都没多大意思。”克里回答说：“我们一定照你说的做。可是，我们该怎么样儿葬你呢?”苏格拉底说：“随你爱怎么样儿葬就怎么样儿葬，只要你能抓住我，别让我从你手里溜走。”他温和地笑笑，看着我们说：“我的各位朋友啊，我没法儿叫克里相信，我就是现在和你们谈话、和你们分条析理反复辩证的苏格拉底。他以为我只是一会儿就要变成尸首的人，他问怎么样儿葬我。我巳经说了好多好多话，说我喝下了毒药，就不再和你们在一起了。你们也知道有福的人享受什么快乐，而我就要离开你们去享福了。可是他好像以为我说的全是空话，好像我是说来鼓励你们，同时也是给自己打气的。”他接着说：“我受审的时候，克里答应裁判官们做我的保证人，保证我一定待在这里。现在请你们向克里做一个相反的保证，保证我死了就不再待在这里，我走掉了。这样呢，克里心上可以放松些。他看到我的身体烧了或埋了，不用难受，不要以为我是在经受虐待。在我的丧事里，别说他是在葬苏格拉底，或是送苏格拉底进坟墓，或是埋掉他。因为，亲爱的克里啊，你该知道，这种不恰当的话不但没意思，还玷污了灵魂呢。不要这么说。你该高高兴兴，说你是在埋葬我的肉体。你觉得怎么样儿埋葬最好，最合适，你就怎么样儿埋葬。”他说完就走进另一间屋里去洗澡了。克里跟他进那间屋去，叫我们等着。我们就说着话儿等待，也讨论讨论刚才听到的那番谈论，也就说到我们面临的巨大不幸。因为我们觉得他就像是我们的父亲，一旦失去了他，我们从此以后都成为孤儿了。他洗完澡，他的几个儿子也来见了他(他有两个小儿子，一个大儿子）。他家的妇女也来了。他当着克里的面，按自己的心愿，给了他们种种指示。然后他打发掉家里的女人，又来到我们这里。他在里间屋里耽搁了好长时候，太阳都快下去了。他洗完澡爽爽适适地又来和我们坐在一起。大家没再讲多少话。牢狱的监守跑来站在他旁边说：“苏格拉底，我不会像我责怪别人那样来责怪你；因为我奉上司的命令叫他们喝毒药时候，他们都对我发狠，咒骂我。我是不会责怪你的。自从你到了这里，不管从哪方面来看，你始终是这监狱里最高尚、最温和、最善良的人。我知道你不生我的气，你是生别人的气。因为你明白谁是有过错的。现在，你反正知道我带给你的是什么消息了，我就和你告别了，你得承受的事就努力顺从吧。”他忍不住哭起来，转身走开。苏格拉底抬眼看着他说：“我也和你告别了，我一定听你的话。”他接着对我们说：“这人多可爱呀！我到这里以后，他经常来看看我，和我说说话儿，他是个最好的人，他这会儿为我痛哭流泪多可贵啊！好吧，克里，咱们就听从他的命令，毒药如果巳经配制好了，就叫人拿来吧；如果还没配制好，就叫人配制去。”克里说：“可是我想啊，苏格拉底，太阳还在山头上，没下山呢，我知道别人到老晚才喝那毒药。他们听到命令之后，还要吃吃喝喝，和亲爱的人相聚取乐，磨蹭一会儿。别着急，时候还早呢。”苏格拉底说：“克里，你说的那些人的行为是对的，因为他们认为这样就得了便宜。我不照他们那样行事也是对的，因为我觉得晚些儿服毒对我并没有好处。现在生命对我已经没用了。如果我揪住了生命舍不得放手，我只会叫我自己都觉得可笑。得了，听我的话，不要拒绝我了。”克里就对站在旁边的一个男孩子点点头。那孩子跑出去待了好一会’然后带了那个掌管毒药的人进来。那人拿着一杯配制好的毒药。苏格拉底见了他说：“哎，我的朋友，你是内行，教我怎么喝。”那人说：“很简单，把毒药喝下去，你就满地走，直走到你腿里觉得重了，你就躺下，毒性自己会发作。”那人说着就把杯子交给苏格拉底。他接过了杯子。伊奇啊，他非常安详，手也不抖，脸色也不变。他抬眼像他惯常的模样大睁着眼看着那人说：“我想倒出一点来行个祭奠礼，行吗?”那人说：“苏格拉底，我们配制的毒药只够你喝的。”苏格拉底说：“我懂。不过我总该向天神们祈祷一番，求我离开人世后一切幸运。我做过这番祷告了，希望能够如愿。”他说完把杯子举到嘴边，高高兴兴、平平静静地干了杯。我们大多数人原先还能忍住眼泪，这时看他一口口地喝，把毒药喝尽，我们再也忍耐不住了。我不由自主，眼泪像泉水般涌出来。我只好把大氅裹着脸，偷偷地哭。我不是为他哭。我是因为失去了这样一位朋友，哭我的苦运。克里起身往外走了，比我先走，因为他抑制不住自己的眼泪了。不过阿波早先就一直在哭，这时伤心得失声号哭，害得我们大家都撑不住了。只有苏格拉底本人不动声色。他说：“你们这伙人真没道理！这是什么行为啊！我把女人都打发出去，就为了不让她们做出这等荒谬的事来。因为我听说，人最好是在安静中死。你们要安静，要勇敢。”我们听了很惭愧，忙制住眼泪。他走着走着，后来他说腿重了，就脸朝天躺下，因为陪侍着他的人叫他这样躺的。掌管他毒药的那人双手按着他，过一会儿又观察他的脚和腿，然后又使劲捏他的脚，问有没有感觉，他说“没有”；然后又捏他的大腿，一路捏上去，让我们知道他正渐渐僵冷。那人再又摸摸他，说冷到心脏，他就去了。这时候他巳经冷到肚子和大腿交接的地方，他把已经蒙上的脸又露出来说（这是他临终的话）：“克里，咱们该向医药神祭献一只公鸡。去买一只，别疏忽。(31)克里说：“我们会照办的，还有别的吩咐吗?”他对这一问没有回答。过一会儿他动了一下，陪侍他的人揭开他脸上盖的东西，他的眼睛巳经定了。克里看见他眼睛定了，就为他闭上嘴、闭上眼睛。伊奇啊，我们的朋友就这样完了。我们可以说，在他那个时期，凡是我们所认识的人里，他是最善良、最有智慧、最正直的人。【注释】(1)得洛斯是希腊的一个小岛，相传是太阳神阿波罗（Apollo)出生地，岛上有阿波罗神庙。（译者注）(2)送往阿波罗神庙的船，启程前举行这个典礼（译者注）(3)悌修斯是传奇里的英雄。相传克里特（Crete)岛上有个吃人的牛头怪（Minotaur),雅典每年进贡童男童女各七名供牛头怪食用。悌修斯自愿充当一名进贡的童男。他杀了牛头怪，救了同伙。(译者注）(4)他们提到的在场者，多半是后世知名的知识分子。（译者注）(5)任娣，苏格拉底之妻。（译者注）(6)伊索，公元前约6世纪的寓言作家。（译者注）(7)艾凡，职业教师，又是诗人。（译者注）(8)指阿波罗。（译者注）(9)按希腊文的字义“诗人”是“创造者”。（译者注）(10)费洛，当时希腊有名的哲学家。（译者注）(11)原译文God,如译“上帝”，就和基督教的耶和华（Jehovah)相混了，所以译为“上天”。（译者注）(12)同时代的大喜剧作家常嘲笑苏格拉底。（译者注）(13)希腊神话，安狄明是个美貌的牧童。月亮女神看中了他，使他每夜安睡不醒，她能夜夜欣赏他的美貌而不受干扰。（译者注）(14)安那克沙戈拉，古希腊哲学家（公元前500?—前428?)。他认为原始是一片混沌，无尽数的物质综合成各种形体。（译者注）(15)古希腊故事：佩内洛普的丈夫远征不归，许多人向她求婚；她为了拒绝求婚者，声明得织好了她公公的裹尸布，再谈婚事；她每天织，每晚拆掉。（译者注）(16)古希腊神话里的大力神。（译者注）(17)按古希腊神话，他是大力神的侄儿，也是大力神的驾车神。(译者注）(18)荷马，古希腊诗人。《奥德赛》是他写的史诗，奥德修斯是史诗公。（译者注）(19)原译文Harmonia，按希腊神话，她是底比斯的女神，象征和谐。（译者注）(20)希腊神话中底比斯城的英雄，和谐女神的丈夫。（译者注）(21)这里讲的是原始一片混沌，怎样从混沌中开辟了宇宙。（译者注）(22)阿特拉斯，希腊神话中以肩顶天的巨神。（译者注）(23)埃斯库罗斯（公元前525—前456),古希腊大悲剧作家之一。（译者注）(24)忒勒夫司，据古希腊神话，他是大力神赫拉克勒斯的儿子。(译者注）(25)全篇论证，虽然没有肯定的结论，到此已经完了。以下是苏格拉底和朋友们闲聊他设想的地球。（译者注）(26)葛劳库斯，古希腊神话里有四五个同是这个名字的人，其中一人善预言。（译者注）(27)原译文Pillars of Hercules,是对峙的两座山，当时希腊人心目中最远的边界。（译者注）(28)原译hollow,不指地上的凹处或穴洞或溪谷。人处在苍穹之下，大地之上。在旷野处，可看到苍天四垂，罩在大地之上，hollow就指天地之间的空间。众人所谓“天”，并不是真的天，只是空气，还弥漫着云雾。苏格拉底把这片青天比作蓝色的海面。他幻想中的净土或福地在地球大气层外的表面上。这个表面，在我们天上的更上层。（译者注）(29)荷马史诗伊里阿德(Iliad) 8，14。〔据达贝勋爵（Lord Derby)译本〕（賭注）(30)原译Tartarus。（译者注）(31)医药神（Aesculapius)是阿波罗的儿子，有起死回生的医术。苏格拉底的这句话是他临终的一句话，注释者有不同的解释。例如有人认为这是服毒后的呓语；盖德注解本264页综合各说，认为最普遍最合理的解释是：苏格拉底不愿疏忽当时希腊人的传统信仰，同时又表示他从此解脱了一切人间疾苦。（译者注）PhaedoECHECRATES. Were you with Socrates yourself, Phaedo,on the day when he drank the poison in prison, or did you hear about it from someone else?PHAEDO. I was there myself, Echecrates.ECHECRATES. Then what did he say before his death? And how did he die? I should like to hear, for nowadays none of the Phliasians go to Athens at all, and no stranger has come from there for a long time, who could tell us anything definite about this matter, except that he drank poison and died, so we could learn no further details.PHAEDO. Did you not even hear about the trial and how it was conducted?ECHECRATES. Yes, some one told us about that, and we wondered that although it took place a long time ago, he was put to death much later. Now why was that, Phaedo?PHAEDO. It was a matter of chance, Echecrates. It happened that the stern of the ship which the Athenians send to Delos was crowned on the day before the trail.ECHECRATES. What ship is this?PHAEDO. This is the ship, as the Athenians say, in which Theseus once went to Crete with the fourteen youths and maidens,and saved them and himself. Now the Athenians made a vow to Apollo, as the story goes, that if they were saved they would send a mission every year to Delos. And from that time even to the present day they send it annually in honour of the god. Now it is their law that after the mission begins the city must be pure and no one may be publicly executed until the ship has gone to Delos and back; and sometimes, when contrary winds detain it, this takes a long time. The beginning of the mission is when the priest of Apollo crowns the stem of the ship; and this took place, as I say, on the day before the trial.For that reason Socrates passed a long time in prison between his trial and his death.ECHECRATES. What took place at his death, Phaedo?What was said and done? And which of his friends were with him? Or did the authorities forbid them to be present, so that he died without his friends?PHAEDO. Not at all. Some were there, in fact, a good many.ECHECRATES. Be so good as to tell us as exacdy as you can about all these things, if you are not too busy.PHAEDO. I am not busy and I will try to tell you. It is always my greatest pleasure to be reminded of Socrates whether by speaking of him myself or by listening to someone else.ECHECRATES. Well, Phaedo, you will have hearers who feel as you do; so try to tell us everything as accurately as you can.PHAEDO. For my part, I had strange emotions when I was there. For I was not filled with pity as I might naturally be when present at the death of a friend; since he seemed to me to be happy, both in his bearing and his words, he was meeting death so fearlessly and nobly. And so I thought that even in going to the abode of the dead he was not going without the protection of the gods, and that when he arrived there it would be well with him, if it ever was well with anyone. And for this reason I was not at all filled with pity, as might seem natural when I was present at a scene of mourning; nor on the other hand did I feel pleasure because we were occupied with philosophy, as was our custom—and our talk was of philosophy; — but a very strange feeling came over me, an unaccustomed mixture of pleasure and of pain together, when I thought that Socrates was presendy to die. And all of us who were there were in much the same condition, sometimes laughing and sometimes weeping; especially one of us, Apollodorus; you know him and his character.ECHECRATES. To be sure I do.PHAEDO. He was quite unrestrained, and I was much agitated myself, as were the others.ECHECRATES. Who were these, Phaedo?PHAEDO. Of native Athenians there was this Apollodorus,and Critobulus and his father, and Hermogenes and Epiganes and Aeschines and Antisthenes; and Ctesippus the Paeanian was there too, and Menexenus and some other Athenians. But Plato, I think, was ill.ECHECRATES. Were any foreigners there?PHAEDO. Yes, Simmias of Thebes and Gebes and Phaedonides,and from Megara Euclides and Terpsion.ECHECRATES. What? Were Aristippus and Cleombrotus there?ECHECRATES. What? Were Aristippus and Cleombrotus there?PHAEDO. No. They were said to be in Aegina.ECHECRATES. Was anyone else there?PHAEDO. I think these were about all.ECHECRATES. Well then, what was the conversation?PHAEDO. I will try to tell you everything from the beginning. On the previous days I and the others had always been in the habit of visiting Socrates. We used to meet at daybreak in the court where the trial took place, for it was near the prison; and every day we used to wait about, talking with each other, until the prison was opened, for it was not opened early; and when it was opened, we went in to Socrates and passed most of the day with him. On that day we came together earlier; for the day before, when we left the prison in the evening we heard that the ship had arrived from Delos. So we agreed to come to the usual place as early in the morning as possible. And we came, and the jailer who usually answered the door came out and told us to wait and not go in until he told us. " For, " he said, "the eleven are releasing Socrates from his fetters and giving direc- tions how he is to die today. " So after a little delay he came and told us to go in. We went in then and found Socrates just released from his fetters and Xanthippe—you know her—with his litde son in her arms, sitting beside him. Now when Xanthippe saw us, she cried out and said the kind of thing that women always do say: "Oh Socrates, this is the last time now that your friends will speak to you or you to them. " And Socrates glanced at Crito and said , "Crito, let somebody take her home. " And some of Crito's people took her away wailing and beating her breast. But Socrates sat up on his couch and bent his leg and rubbed it with his hand, and while he was rubbing it, he said, "What a strange thing, my friends, that seems to be which men call pleasure! How wonderfully it is related to that which seems to be its opposite, pain, in that they will not both come to a man at the same time, and yet if he pursues the one and captures it, he is generally obliged to take the other also, as if the two were joined together in one head. And I think," he said, "if Aesop had thought of them, he would have made a fable telling how they were at war and god wished to reconcile them, and when he could not do that, he fastened their heads together, and for that reason, when one of them comes to anyone, the other follows after. Just so it seems that in my case, after pain was in my leg on account of the fetter, pleasure appears to have come following after. "Here Cebes interrupted and said, "By Zeus, Socrates, I am glad you reminded me. Several others have asked about the poems you have composed, the metrical versions of Aesop's fables and the hymn to Apollo, and Evenus asked me the day before yesterday why you who never wrote any poetry before, composed these verses after you came to prison. Now, if you care that I should be able to answer Evenus when he asks me again—and I know he will ask me—tell me what to say. ""Then tell him, Cebes," said he, "the truth, that I composed these verses not because I wished to rival him or his poems, for I knew that would not be easy, but because I wished to test the meaning of certain dreams, and to make sure that I was neglecting no duty in case their repeated commands meant that I must cultivate the Muses in this way. They were something like this. The same dream came to me often in my past life, sometimes in one form and sometimes in another, but always saying the same thing: ' Socrates,' it said, ' make music and work at it. ' And I formerly thought it was urging and encouraging me to do what I was doing already and that just as people encourage runners by cheering, so the dream was encouraging me to do what I was doing, that is, to make music, because philosophy was the greatest kind of music and I was working at that. But now, after the trial and while the festival of the god delayed my execution, I thought, in case the repeated dream really meant to tell me to make this which is ordinarily called music, I ought to do so and not to disobey. For I thought it was safer not to go hence before making sure that I had done what I ought, by obeying the dream and composing verses. So first I composed a hymn to the god whose festival it was; and after the god, considering that a poet, if he is really to be a poet, must compose myths and not speeches, since I was not a maker of myths, I took the myths of Aesop, which I had at hand and knew, and turned into verse the first I came upon. So tell Evenus that, Cebes, and bid him farewell, and tell him, if he is wise, to come after me as quickly as he can. I, it seems, am going to-day; for that is the order of the Athenians. "And Simmias said, "What a message that is, Socrates, for Evenus! I have met him often, and from what I have seen of him, I should say that he will not take your advice in the least if he can help it. ""Why so?" said he. "Is not Evenus a philosopher?""I think so," said Simmias."Then Evenus will take my advice, and so will every man who has any worthy interest in philosophy. Perhaps, however, he will not take his own life, for they say that is not permitted. " And as he spoke he put his feet down on the ground and remained sitting in this way through the rest of the conversation.Then Cebes asked him:"What do you mean by this, Socrates, that it is not permitted to take one's life, but that the philosopher would desire to follow after the dying?""How is this, Cebes? Have you and Simmias, who are pupils of Philolaus, not heard about such things?""Nothing definite, Socrates. ""I myself speak of them only from hearsay; but I have no objection to telling what I have heard. And indeed it is perhaps especially fitting, as I am going to the other world, to tell stories about the life there and consider what we think about it; for what else could one do in the time between now and sunset?""Why in the world do they say that it is not permitted to kill oneself, Socrates? I heard Philolaus, when he was living in our city, say the same thing you just said, and I have heard it from others, too, that one must not do this; but I never heard anyone say anything definite about it. "" You must have courage," said he, " and perhaps you might hear something. But perhaps it will seem strange to you that this alone of all laws is without exception, and it never happens to mankind, as in other matters, that only at some times and for some persons it is better to die than to live; and it will perhaps seem strange to you that these human beings for whom it is better to die cannot without impiety do good to themselves, but must wait for some other benefactor. "And Cebes, smiling gendy, said, "Gawd knows it does," speaking in his own dialect."It would seem unreasonable, if put in this way," said Socrates, "but perhaps there is some reason in it. Now the doctrine that is taught in secret about this matter, that we men are in a kind of prison and must not set ourselves free or run away, seems to me to be weighty and not easy to understand. But this at least, Cebes, I do believe is sound, that the gods are our guardians and that we men are one of the chattels of the gods. Do you not believe this?""Yes," said Cebes, "I do. ""Well then," said he, "if one of your chattels should kill itself when you had not indicated that you wished it to die, would you be angry with it and punish it if you could?""Certainly," he replied."Then perhaps from this point of view it is not unreasonable to say that a man must not kill himself until god sends some necessity upon him, such as has now come upon me. ""That," said Cebes, "seems sensible. But what you said just now, Socrates, that philosophers ought to be ready and willing to die, that seems strange if we were right just now in saying that god is our guardian and we are his possessions. For it is not reasonable that the wisest men should not be troubled when they leave that service in which the gods, who are the best overseers in the world, are watching over them. A wise man certainly does not think that when he is free he can take better care of himself than they do. A foolish man might perhaps think so, that he ought to run away from his master, and he would not consider that he must not run away from a good master, but ought to stay with him as long as possible; and so he might thoughdessly run away; but a man of sense would wish to be always with one who is better than himself. And yet, Socrates, if we look at it in this way, the contrary of what we just said seems natural; for the wise ought to be troubled at dying and the foolish to rejoice. "When Socrates heard this I thought he was pleased by Cebes' earnestness, and glancing at us, he said, "Cebes is always on the track of arguments and will not be easily convinced by whatever anyone says. "And Simmias said, "Well, Socrates, this time I think myself that Cebes is right. For why should really wise men run away from masters who are better than they and lighdy separate themselves from them? And it strikes me that Cebes is aiming his argument at you, because you are so ready to leave us and the gods, who are, as you yourself agree, good rulers. ""You have a right to say that," he replied; "for I think you mean that I must defend myself against this accusation, as if we were in a law court. ""Precisely," said Simmias."Well, then," said he, "I will try to make a more convincing defence than I did before the judges. For if I did not believe," said he, "that I was going to other wise and good gods, and, moreover, to men who have died, better men than those here, I should be wrong in not grieving at death. But as it is, you may rest assured that I expect to go to good men, though I should not care to assert this positively; but I would assert as positively as anything about such matters that I am going to gods who are good masters. And therefore, so far as that is concerned, I not only do not grieve, but I have great hopes that there is something in store for the dead, and, as has been said of old, something better for the good than for the wicked. ""Well," said Simmias, "do you intend to go away, Socrates, and keep your opinion to yourself, or would you let us share it? It seems to me that this is a good which belongs in common to us also, and at the same time, if you convince us by what you say, that will serve as your defence. ""I will try," he replied. "But first let us ask Crito there what he wants. He has apparendy been trying to say something for a long time. ""Only, Socrates," said Crito, "that the man who is to administer the poison to you has been telling me for some time to warn you to talk as little as possible. He says people get warm when they talk and heat has a bad effect on the action of the poison; so sometimes he has to make those who talk too much drink twice or even three times. "And Socrates said:" Never mind him. Just let him do his part and prepare to give it twice or even, if necessary, three times. ""I was pretty sure that was what you would say," said Crito, "but he has been bothering me for a long time. ""Never mind him," said Socrates. "I wish now to explain to you, my judges, the reason why I think a man who has really spent his life in philosophy is naturally of good courage when he is to die, and has strong hopes that when he is dead he will attain the greatest blessings in that other land. So I will try to tell you, Simmias, and Cebes, how this would be."Other people are likely not to be aware that those who pursue philosophy aright study nothing but dying and being dead. Now if this is true, it would be absurd to be eager for nothing but this all their lives, and then to be troubled when that came for which they had all along been eagerly practising. "And Simmias laughed and said, " By Zeus, Socrates, I don't feel much like laughing just now, but you made me laugh. For I think the multitude, if they heard what you just said about the philosophers, would say you were quite right, and our peo- ple at home would agree entirely with you that Philosophers desire death, and they would add that they know very well that the philosophers deserve it. ""And they would be speaking the truth, Simmias, except in the matter of knowing very well. For they do not know in what way the real philosophers desire death, nor in what way they deserve death, nor what kind of a death it is. Let us then," said he, "speak with one another, paying no further attention to them. Do we think there is such a thing as death?""Certainly," replied Simmias." We believe, do we not, that death is the separation of the soul from the body, and that the state of being dead is the state in which the body is separated from the soul and exists alone by itself and the soul is separated from the body and exists alone by itself? Is death anything other than this?" "No, it is this," said he."Now, my friend, see if you agree with me; for, if you do, I think we shall get more light on our subject. Do you think a philosopher would be likely to care much about the so-called pleasures, such as eating and drinking?""By no means, Socrates," said Simmias."How about the pleasures of love?""Certainly not. ""Well, do you think such a man would think much of the other cares of the body—I mean such as the possession of fine clothes and shoes and the other personal adornments? Do you think he would care about them or despise them, except so far as it is necessary to have them?""I think the true philosopher would despise them," he replied."Altogether, then, you think that such a man would not devote himself to the body, but would, so far as he was able, turn away from the body and concern himself with the soul?""Yes. ""To begin with, then, it is clear that in such matters the philosopher, more than other men, separates the soul from communion with the body?""It is. "" Now certainly most people think that a man who takes no pleasure and has no part in such things doesn't deserve to live, and that one who cares nothing for the pleasures of the body is about as good as dead. ""That is very true. ""Now, how about the acquirement of pure knowledge? Is the body a hindrance or not, if it is made to share in the search for wisdom? What I mean is this: Have the sight and hearing of men any truth in them, or is it true, as the poets are always telling us, that we neither hear nor see anything accurately? And yet if these two physical senses are not accurate or exact, the rest are not likely to be, for they are inferior to these. Do you not think so?"" Certainly I do," he replied."Then," said he, "when does the soul attain to truth? For when it tries to consider anything in company with the body, it is evidendy deceived by it. ""True. ""In thought, then, if at all, something of the realities becomes clear to it?""Yes. ""But it thinks best when none of these things troubles it, neither hearing nor sight, nor pain nor any pleasure, but it is, so far as possible, alone by itself, and takes leave of the body, and avoiding, so far as it can, all association or contact with the body, reaches out toward the reality. ""That is true. ""In this matter also, then, the soul of the philosopher gready despises the body and avoids it and strives to be alone by itself?""Evidendy. ""Now how about such things as this, Simmias? Do we think there is such a thing as absolute justice, or not?""We certainly think there is. ""And absolute beauty and goodness. "" Of course. ""Well, did you ever see anything of that kind with your eyes?"" Certainly not," said he."Or did you ever reach them with any of the bodily senses? I am speaking of all such things, as size, health, strength, and in short the essence or underlying quality of everything. Is their true nature contemplated by means of the body? Is it not rather the case that he who prepares himself most carefully to understand the true essence of each thing that he examines would come nearest to the knowledge of it?""Certainly. ""Would not that man do this most perfecdy who approaches each thing, so far as possible, with the reason alone, not introducing sight into his reasoning nor dragging in any of the other senses along with his thinking, but who employs pure, absolute reason in his attempt to search out the pure, absolute essence of things, and who removes himself, so far as possible, from eyes and ears, and, in a word, from his whole body, because he feels that its companionship disturbs the soul and hinders it from attaining truth and wisdom? Is not this the man, Simmias, if anyone, to attain to the knowledge of reality?""That is true as true can be, Socrates," said Simmias."Then," said he, "all this must cause good lovers of wisdom to think and say one to the other something like this:' There seems to be a short cut which leads us and our argument to the conclusion in our search that so long as we have the body, and the soul is contaminated by such an evil, we shall never attain completely what we desire, that is, the truth. For the body keeps us constandy busy by reason of its need of sustenance; and moreover, if diseases come upon it they hinder our pursuit of the truth. And the body fills us with passions and desires and fears, and all sorts of fancies and foolishness, so that, as they say, it really and truly makes it impossible for us to think at all. The body and its desires are the only cause of wars and factions and batdes; for all wars arise for the sake of gaining money, and we are compelled to gain money for the sake of the body. We are slaves to its service. And so, because of all these things, we have no leisure for philosophy. But the worst of all is that if we do get a bit of leisure and turn to philosophy, the body is constandy breaking in upon our studies and disturbing us with noise and confusion, so that it prevents our beholding the truth, and in fact we perceive that, if we are ever to know anything absolutely, we must be free from the body and must behold the actual realities with the eye of the soul alone. And then, as our argument shows, when we are dead we are likely to possess the wisdom which we desire and claim to be enam oured of, but not while we live. For, if pure knowledge is impossible while the body is with us, one of two thing must follow, either it cannot be acquired at all or only when we are dead; for then the soul will be by itself apart from the body, but not before. And while we live, we shall, I think, be nearest to knowledge when we avoid, so far as possible, intercourse and communion with the body, except what is absolutely necessary, and are not filled with its nature, but keep ourselves pure from it until God himself sets us free. And in this way, freeing ourselves from the foolishness of the body and being pure, we shall, I think, be with the pure and shall know of ourselves all that is pure, —and that is, perhaps, the truth. For it cannot be that the impure attain the pure. ' Such words as these, I think, Simmias, all who are righdy lovers of knowledge must say to each other and such must be their thoughts. Do you not agree?""Most assuredly, Socrates. ""Then," said Socrates, "if this is true, my friend, I have great hopes that when I reach the place to which I am going, I shall there, if anywhere, attain fully to that which has been my chief object in my past life, so that the journey which is now imposed upon me is begun with good hope; and the like hope exists for every man who thinks that his mind has been purified and made ready.""Certainly," said Simmias."And does not the purification consist in this which has been mentioned long ago in our discourse, in separating, so far as possible, the soul from the body and teaching the soul the habit of collecting and bringing itself together from all parts of the body, and living, so far as it can, both now and hereafter, alone by itself, freed from the body as from fetters?""Certainly," said he."Well, then, this is what we call death, is it not, a release and separation from the body?""Exacdy so," said he."But, as we hold, the true philosophers and they alone are always most eager to release the soul, and just this—the release and separation of the soul from the body—is their study, is it not?""Obviously. ""Then, as I said in the beginning, it would be absurd if a mem who had been all his life fitting himself to live as nearly in a state of death as he could, should then be disturbed when death came to him. Would it not be absurd?"" Of course. ""In fact, then, Simmias," said he, "the true philosophers practise dying, and death is less terrible to them than to any other men. Consider it in this way. They are in every way hostile to the body and they desire to have the soul apart by itself alone. Would it not be very foolish if they should be frightened and troubled when this very thing happens, and if they should not be glad to go to the place where there is hope of attaining what they longed for all through life—and they longed for wisdom—and of escaping from the companionship of that which they hated? When human loves or wives or sons have died, many men have willingly gone to the other world led by the hope of seeing there those whom they longed for, and of being with them; and shall he who is really in love with wisdom and has a firm belief that he can find it nowhere else than in the other world grieve when he dies and not be glad to go there? We cannot think that, my friend, if he is really a philosopher; for he will confidendy believe that he will find pure wisdom nowhere else than in the other world. And if this is so, would it not be very foolish for such a man to fear death?""Very foolish, certainly," said he."Then is it not," said Socrates, "a sufficient indication, when you see a man troubled because he is going to die, that he was not a lover of wisdom but a lover of the body? And this same man is also a lover of money and of honour, one or both. ""Certainly," said he, "it is as you say. ""Then, Simmias," he continued, "is not that which is called courage especially characteristic of philosophers?"