One question, not two statements. The particle ἦ at the head introduces incredulity: "is it really the case that…?" The whole passage is a single period with μέν … δέ, the first half describing the lamp, the second asking about you, and the comparison works only whole. Rogovin breaks it into a statement and a question, which weakens the antithesis.

What the lamp actually does. μέχρι σβεσθῇ φαίνει καὶ τὴν αὐγὴν οὐκ ἀποβάλλει — "until it is put out it shines, and does not cast away its brightness." Ἀποβάλλω is "to throw away, to drop, to lose by one's own act" (it is the word for throwing away one's shield in battle). The lamp does not drop its light; it is put out from outside. That is the whole force of the comparison: it has no choice, and you have.

The prefix the reproach rests on. προ-αποσβήσεται — "will be put out first." Before what? Before you. The disgrace lies not in going out but in going out early, and of oneself: the same thing, put more sharply, is said in 3.1, where a second memento is added to the memory of the body's death — that the mind may die while the body still lives.

Three names. ἀλήθεια, TERMδικαιοσύνη, TERMσωφροσύνη — truth, justice, sound-mindedness. These are the same three disciplines that are listed as participles in 12.3 ("doing what is just, willing what happens, speaking what is true"), here under their names as virtues: assent is called truth, action justice, and desire σωφροσύνη.

The image. Light as a figure for mind rests in Marcus on self-luminosity: the sun is "poured out but not poured away" (8.57); the soul "shines with the light by which it sees the truth of all things" (11.12). Here the image is lowered to a lamp — a household thing, small and plainly finite; and that is exactly why the reproach lands: even it holds out to the end. The governing discipline is action, the sustaining one assent.