Beyond the Boundaries of Fantasia: An ancient imagining of the future of leadership

Speech of Alcibiades in Praise of Socrates

Translated by Seth Benardete
 
 

First some preliminary observations and questions:

As noted in the introduction, the dramatic date of the Symposium would have been sometime in January or February of 416 BCE. For Alcibiades, one of the most controversial and eventually destructive figures in ancient Athenian history, that year arguably marked the apex of his political success and influence. He would go on to assume the leadership of the Sicilian Expedition in 415, but he would also face indictment and conviction for complicity in an act of religious desecration and flee to Sparta. Here are a few biographical points to bear in mind as you read the final section of the dialogue.    

• References in several sources suggest that Alcibiadies was born in 451/450 BCE, which would make him approximately thirty-five at the time of this symposium. Thucydides records his arrival as a significant political influence in 420 during the so-called Peace of Nicias concluded in 422, which brought the Peloponnesian War to a fitful and ultimately temporary end. Alcibiades then just thirty years old emerges as a critic of the peace agreement, which actions on the part of both Athens and Sparta were threatening to scuttle, and a proponent of establishing an alliance with Argos, which was then seeking allies among the city-states of the Peloponnese to discourage Sparta from expanding its influence in the region.

The breach between the Spartans and Athenians having gone thus far, the party at Athens who wished to cancel the treaty immediately put themselves in motion. Foremost amongst these was Alcibiades son of Clinias, a man still young in years for any other Hellenic city, but distinguished by the splendor of his ancestry. Alcibiades thought the Argive alliance really preferable, not that personal pique had not also a great deal to do with his opposition; he being offended with the Spartans for having negotiated the treaty through Nicias and Laches, and having overlooked him on account of his youth, and also for not having shown him the respect due to the ancient connection of his family with them as their proxenii which, renounced by his grandfather, he had himself recently attempted to renew by his attentions to their prisoners taken in the island. Being thus, as he thought, slighted by all, he had in the first instance spoken against the treaty, saying that the Spartans were not to be trusted, but that they only negotiated in order to be enabled by this means to crush Argos, and afterwards to attack Athens alone; and now immediately upon the occurrence of this breach, he sent privately to the Argives, telling them to come as quickly as possible to Athens, accompanied by the Mantineans and Eleans, with proposals of alliance; as the moment was propitious and he himself would do all he could to help them.

It is a point of debate whether Athens joined the alliance of Argos, Mantinea, and Elis before or after the tribe of Leontis, one of ten Athenian administrative units, elected Alcibiades as a general for the first time in 420, but he certainly took credit for having "united the most powerful states of the Peloponnese" (Thucydides 6.15.6), a comment that seems rash given what Sparta accomplishes over the next decade and a half. In the winter of 416 at the time of the Lenaean dramatic festival, Alcibiades was still serving as the general of his tribe, having been elected for a fourth consecutive year. Later that summer he would sail to Argos with a fleet of twenty ships to remove Spartan sympathizers and resettle them among neighboring islands beyond Sparta's reach (Thucydides 5.84.1).

• About the time of Agathon's victory, the Athenian assembly voted to hold an ostracism. As part of the democratic reforms of Cleisthenes in 508/507, the Athenians established a mechanism for preventing the rise of tyrants, i.e., leaders who seize power unlawfully. As Mabel Lang explains:

Each year the Assembly decided whether a vote of ostracism should be held. If a majority of the quorum of 6.000 citizens voted affirmatively, the day was set and at that time a large open area of the Agora was fenced off. In the enclosure were 10 entrances, one for each of the 10 tribes. By these the citizens entered, each with a potsherd (ostrakon) on which he had scratched the name of the man who seemed to him most dangerous to the state. Officials at the entrance collected the sherds and kept the citizens inside the enclosure until all had voted. The sherds were then tabulated; if more than 6,000 votes were cast, the man whose name appeared on the greatest number was sent into exile for 10 years.

According to Plutarch's biography of Nicias, Hyperbolus, hoping to eliminate one of his political rivals, most likely either Nicias or Alicibiades, persuaded the Assembly to hold an ostracism, which took place a couple of months later. Nicias and Alcibiades, however, joined forces and turned the tables on Hyperbolus, who ended up receiving the most votes and became the last person the Athenians ever ostrasized. Five years later in 411, the Four Hundred, an oligarchic faction, seized control of the government in Athens as part of a wider initiative to establish similar oligarchic regimes throughout the subject states and stave off further revolts, gain Persian support, and negotiate a resolution to the war with Sparta, who would presumably be more favorably disposed to Athens without the democrats in power. Members of this oligarchic faction attempted to establish an oligarchy on Samos, where the bulk of the Athenian fleet was stationed. Thucydides reports that they "put to death one Hyperbolus, an Athenian, a pestilent fellow who had been ostracized, not from fear of his influence or position, but because he was a scoundrel and a disgrace to the city; being aided in this by Charminus, one of the generals, and by some of the Athenians with them, to whom they had sworn friendship, and with whom they perpetrated other acts of the kind, and now determined to attack the majority" (8.73.) This and similar acts of violence actually steeled the resolve of the Athenians serving in the fleet to restore the democracy in Athens. At this point Alcibiades was trying to persuade Tissaphernes, the Persian satrap of Lydia and Caria, who was supporting the Peloponnesians in the war against Athens, to back the Athenians as well, arguing that it was in Persia's interest to support both sides of the warring Greeks whose mutual, self-inflicted demise would leave Persia as the dominant power in Ionia and the Aegean. The prospect that Alcibiades could deliver aid from Tissaphernes for the Athenians against the Spartans, as misguided as it seems in hindsight, proved overwhelmingly attractive to the supporters of the democracy. Within a month or so, they had recalled Alcibiades to Samos and elected him as general once again.

• Later that summer, probably sometime between mid-August and mid-September, the Greeks celebrated the ninety-first Olympic games. Alcibiades' considerable investments in breeding race horses, then as now a enterprise primarily for the wealthy, paid off. In his campaign to receive command of the Athenian expedition to Sicily a year later, he describes his success as recorded by Thucydides:

Athenians, I have a better right to command than others—I must begin with this as Nicias has attacked me—and at the same time I believe myself to be worthy of it. The things for which I am abused bring fame to my ancestors and to myself, and also profit to my country. The Hellenes, after expecting to see our city ruined by the war, concluded it to be even greater than it really is, by reason of the magnificence with which I represented it at the Olympic games, when I sent into the lists seven chariots, a number never before entered by any private person, and won the first prize, and was second and fourth, and took care to have everything else in a style worthy of my victory. Custom regards such displays as honorable, and they cannot be made without leaving behind them an impression of power (6.15).

Plutarch summarizes Alcibiades character and they way others responded to him:

But all this statecraft and eloquence and lofty purpose and cleverness was attended with great luxuriousness of life, with wanton drunkenness and lewdness, with effeminacy in dress,—he would trail long purple robes through the market place,—and with prodigal expenditures. . . . Indeed, the influence he exerted over others: his voluntary contributions of money, his support of public exhibitions, his unsurpassed munificence towards the city, the glory of his ancestry, the power of his eloquence, the comeliness and vigor of his person, together with his experience and prowess in war, made the Athenians lenient and tolerant towards everything else; they were forever giving the mildest of names to his transgressions, calling them the product of youthful spirits and ambition. (Life of Alcibiades 16).

Among the hundred or so examples of oratory that have survived from ancient Athens is a speech that appears to have been given in the context of the ostracism mentioned above. According to Plutarch, the speaker was Phaeax, who "was just beginning his career, and, though of illustrious parentage, was inferior to him [Alcibiades] in other ways, and particularly as a public speaker. He seemed affable and winning in private conversation rather than capable of conducting public debates" (Life of Alcibiades 13). Here is what Phaeax had to say about his political rival:

Obedience to the magistrates and the laws is to my mind the one safeguard of society; and anyone who sets them at nought is destroying at one blow the surest guarantee of security which the state possesses. It is hard enough to be made to suffer by those who have no conception of right and wrong; but it is far more serious when a man who knows what the public interest requires, acts in defiance of it. He shows clearly, as Alcibiades has done, that instead of holding that he ought himself to conform with the laws of the state, he expects you to conform with his own way of life.

In the last section of the Symposium, we meet this Alcibiades. Like Socrates, he will alter the rules of the sympotic gathering and, as Phaeax observed, impose his "way of life" on the other guests. In praising Socrates, he appears to corroborate Socrates' claim that love transcends purely physical considerations and is ultimately the attraction of one soul to the beauty of another. However, Alcibiades' story also demonstrates his disregard for social conventions. How does his relationship with Socrates transgress the rules of paiderastia as outlined by Pausanias?


But suddenly a hammering on the courtyard door made a lot of noise—revelers they thought—and they heard the sound of a flute girl. Then Agathon said, “Boys, [212d] go look. And if it is any one of our close friends, invite him in; but if not, say that we are not drinking but have already stopped." Not much later they heard the voice of Alcibiades in the courtyard, very drunk and shouting loudly, asking where Agathon was and commanding them to lead him to Agathon. Then the flute girl who—together with some other of his attendants—supported him and led him before them; and he stood at the door, [212e] thickly crowned with ivy and violets, with many fillets on his head. And he said, "Men, hail! Will you welcome a man who's terribly drunk as a fellow drinker? Or shall we go away just as soon as we have wreathed Agathon, for which single purpose we have come? For I, you see," he said, "could not come yesterday, but now I have come with fillets on my head, so that from my own head I might wreathe the head of the wisest and most beautiful—well! And if I shall say that, what then? Will you laugh at me because I am drunk? But all the same, even if you [213a] do laugh, I know well that I am telling the truth. Well, tell me on the spot, shall I enter on the said conditions or not? Will you join me in drink or not?”

Then they all applauded loudly and asked him to enter and lie down; and Agathon summoned him. And he came led by his creatures; and as he was taking off the fillets to do the crowning—he had had them before his eyes and so did not observe Socrates—he sat down alongside Agathon, [213b] between him and Socrates; for Socrates had made room for Alcibiades when he saw him. On sitting down he embraced Agathon and bound on the fillets.

Then Agathon said, "Take off Alcibiades' shoes, boys, so that he may lie down in the third place.”

"Certainly," Alcibiades said, "but who is here as our third fellow drinker?" And at once he turned around and saw Socrates; and as soon as he saw him he leapt up and said, "Heracles! What is the meaning of this? Socrates is here? Once again you lie in ambush; and [213c] just as is your habit, you appear suddenly wherever I believed you were least likely to be. And now, why have you come? And why did you lie down here? For it is not with Aristophanes, or with anyone else who is—or wants to be—laughable that you lie; but you managed it so that you might lie down beside the most beautiful of those in this room.”

And Socrates said, "Agathon, consider! Are you going to defend me? The love I have of this human being has proved quite bothersome. For since the time that [213d] I first loved him, it is no longer possible for me to look at or converse with even one beauty; or else in jealousy and envy of me he does amazing things, and abuses me and hardly keeps his hands off me. Take care lest he do something now, and do reconcile us; or if he tries to use force, defend me, since I really quake with fear at his madness and love of lovers.”

"But," said Alcibiades, "reconciliation between you and me is impossible. Well, I shall take my vengeance on you for this at another time; but now, [213e] Agathon,” he said, "spare us some of the fillets, so that I may wreathe this amazing head of his; and he need not reproach me because I wreathed you, and not him; for he conquers all human beings in speeches, and not just the day before yesterday as you did, but at all times." And at once he took some of the fillets, wreathed Socrates, and lay down.

And when he lay down, he said, "All right, men. In my opinion you're sober. This cannot be allowed; you must drink, for we have agreed to it. And I choose as leader of the drinking—until you have drunk enough—myself. But let someone do the fetching, Agathon, if there is any large beaker. But there is no need really; just bring that wine cooler there, boy," he said, as he saw [214a] that it had a capacity of more than eight pints. Once he saw that it got filled he was the first to drink it off; and then, as he asked that it be poured for Socrates, he said, "It is no sophistic stratagem of mine against Socrates, men; for as much as one asks him to, so much he drinks off without any risk of getting more drunk.

Then the boy poured and Socrates drank. And Eryximachus said, "What are we to do, Alcibiades? [214b] Is this to be our way, to say nothing at all over our cups, nor sing anything, but simply to drink like the thirsty?" Then Alcibiades said, "Eryximachus, best son of the best and most moderate father, hail!" "You too," Eryximachus said. "But what shall we do?" "Whatever you order. For we must obey you—

‘For a physician is worth the equivalent of many others.’

Prescribe what you want.”

"Listen then," Eryximachus said. "It was our resolution before you entered that each of us in turn, beginning on the left, should make as fair a speech [214c] as he could about Eros, and eulogize him. Now all the rest of us have spoken; and since you have not spoken but have drunk up, it is just that you speak. And after your speech prescribe for Socrates whatever you want; and then let him prescribe for him on his right, and so on for the rest.”

"Well, Eryximachus," Alcibiades said, "what you say is fine, but I am afraid .it is not quite fair for a drunkard to be matched against the speeches of the sober. And at the same time, you blessed innocent, has Socrates really convinced [214d] you of anything he just said? Don't you know that things are exactly the opposite of what he was saying? For if I praise anyone other than himself, whether god or human being, while he is present, he will not keep his hands off me.”

"Hush," Socrates said.

"No, by Poseidon," Alcibiades said. "Say nothing against this, since there is no one else I should praise while you were present.”

"Well, do so, if you want," Eryximachus said. "Praise Socrates.”

[214e] “What are you saying?" Alcibiades said. "Is it thought that I should, Eryximachus? Shall I assault the man and take vengeance on him in your presence?”

"You there," Socrates said. "What do you have in mind? To praise me for the sake of raising a laugh? Or what will you do?”

"I shall tell the truth. See if you allow it.”

"Well, if it is the truth," he said, "I both allow and order you to tell it.”

"Your word is my command," Alcibiades said. "Now you do as follows. If I say anything that is untrue, check me in the middle if you want to and say in what respect I am telling a lie; for as far as my will goes, I shall not [215a] lie. Now if in reminiscing I speak of one thing and then another, don't be surprised; for it is not at all easy for me in the condition I am in to enumerate fluently and consecutively your strangeness.

"I shall try in this way, men, to praise Socrates, through likenesses. Now he perhaps will suppose it is for raising a laugh; but the likeness will be for the sake of the truth, not for the sake of the laughable. I declare that he is most strictly like those Silenuses [215b] that sit in the shops of herm sculptors, the ones that craftsmen make holding reed pipes or flutes; and if they are split in two and opened up, they show that they have images of gods within. And I declare, in turn, that he bears a likeness to the satyr Marsyas. Now, that you are like them at least in looks, Socrates, surely not even you would dispute; and as for your likeness to them in other respects, just listen to what I have to say. You are hybristic, are you not? For if you do not agree, I shall get witnesses. Well, aren't you a flute player? You are far more marvelous, to be sure, than Marsyas. [215c] He used to charm human beings by means of instruments, with the power from his mouth, as anyone still does today who plays his flute songs. For I ascribe to Marsyas as what Olympus fluted since Marsyas had taught him; so that the songs of Olympus, whether a good flutist or a sorry sort of flute girl should play them, are the only ones—because they are divine—that cause possession and reveal those who are in need of the gods and initiatory rituals. And you differ from him only in that you do the same thing with bare words without instruments. [215d] We, at any rate, whenever we hear the speeches of anyone else—no matter how good a speaker he is—just about no one gets concerned. But whenever any one of us hears you or another speaking your speeches, even if the speaker is very poor, regardless of whether a woman, man, or lad hears them, we are thunderstruck and possessed. I, at any rate, men, were I not going to be thought utterly drunk, should tell you on oath exactly how his speeches have affected me, and still do to this very [215e] day. For whenever I listen, my heart jumps far more than the Corybants,’ and tears pour out under the power of his speeches; and I see that they affect many many others in the same way. When I heard Pericles and other good speakers, I thought they spoke well, but they could not affect me in any way like that, nor did my soul grow troubled and become distressed at my slavish condition. But I had so often been put in this state by this Marsyas you see before you [216a] that I came to the opinion that it was not worth living in the way I am. Now, Socrates, you will not say that this is not true. And even now I know within myself that were I willing to lend my ears, I should not be capable of holding out but should be affected in the same way. For he compels me to agree that, though I am still in need of much myself, I neglect myself and handle instead the affairs of the Athenians. So it was by main force that I stopped my ears and took off in flight, as if from the Sirens, in order that I might not sit here in idleness and grow old beside him. In regard to this human being alone have I been affected [216b] in a way that no one would suspect was in me—to feel shame before anyone at all. Only before him do I feel shame. For I know within myself that I am incapable of contradicting him or of saying that what he commands must not be done; and whenever I go away, I know within myself that I am doing so because I have succumbed to the honor I get from the many. So I have become a runaway and avoid him; and whenever I see him, I am ashamed of what has been agreed upon. [216c] And many is the time when I should see with pleasure that he is not among human beings; but again, if this should happen, I know well that I should be much more greatly distressed. I do not know what to do with this human being.

”And I and many others have been affected in such ways by the flute songs of this satyr here before us. But as to the rest, hear me tell how he is like those to whom I have likened him, and how amazing is the power he has. For know well that not one of you [216d] is acquainted with him; but I shall make it plain, inasmuch as I have started on it. You see that Socrates is erotically inclined to the beauties and is always around them, and that he is thunderstruck; and again that he is ignorant of everything and knows nothing. Now isn't this guise of his Silenic? It certainly is. For he has wrapped this around himself on the outside, just as the carved Silenus; but once he is opened up, do you suspect, fellow drinking men, how full he is of moderation? Know that he's not at all concerned if someone is beautiful—and he holds this in such great contempt [216e] that no one would believe it any more than if someone is rich or has any other honor of those deemed blessed by the multitude. But he believes that all these possessions are worth nothing and that we are nothing, I tell you, and all his life he keeps on being ironical and playful to human beings. And when he is in earnest and opened up, I do not know if anyone has seen the images within; but I once saw them, and it was my opinion that they were so divine, [217a] golden, altogether beautiful, and amazing that one had to do just about whatever Socrates commanded. Believing him to be in earnest about my youthful beauty, I believed I had had a lucky find and an amazing piece of good luck: I had the chance—if I gratified Socrates—to hear everything that he knew; for I used to take an amazing amount of pride in my youthful beauty. So with this in mind, though I previously was not in the habit of being alone with him without an attendant, I then sent [217b] the attendant away and was alone with him. (For the whole truth must be told you, but pay attention, and if I lie, Socrates, try and refute me.) So I was alone with him alone, men; and I believed he would converse with me at once in just the way a lover would converse with his beloved in isolation, and I rejoiced. But exactly nothing of the sort happened; but just as he used to do, he would converse with me; and having spent the day with me he would take his leave. After this I challenged [217c] him to join me in stripping; and I stripped along with him. Here, I thought, I shall get my way. So he joined me in stripping and often wrestled with me when no one else was present. And what need is there to say more? I got no advantage from it at all. And when I made no headway in this manner, I resolved that the man must be set upon by force and not be released, since I was already committed to the attempt, and now I had to find out what was really the matter. I invited him then to join me at supper, simply as a lover plots against a beloved. And he did not quickly [217d] yield to me in this, but in time, at any rate, he was persuaded. And when he came for the first time, he wanted, once he had dined, to go away. And then out of shame I let him go; but I renewed my plottings once more. And this time when we had dined I kept on conversing far into the night; and when he wanted to go away, I pretended that it was too late and compelled him to remain. So he took his rest in the bed next to me on which he had dined; and no one else slept in the room but [217e] ourselves. Now, what I have said up to this point in my speech could properly be told to anyone at all. And you would not hear any more from me than this were it not that, first of all, as the saying goes, wine—with boys and without boys—is truthful, and in the second place, that it is patently unjust for me, once I have come to the point of praising Socrates, to keep hidden his magnificently overweening deed. Furthermore, the affliction of a victim of the viper's bite is also mine. For they say, as you know, that anyone who has been so afflicted is unwilling to speak of what sort of thing it is except to those who themselves have been bitten, since they alone will recognize it [218a] and pardon him if his pain brought him to the point of doing and saying anything. Take me, for instance. I was bitten by a more painful viper in the place that is most liable to pain—the heart or soul or whatever name it must have—bitten and struck by philosophical speeches, which grip in a more savage way than the viper, whenever they get a hold on a young soul that is not ill-favored by nature, and make it do and say anything whatsoever—and seeing in turn Phaedruses, Agathons, [218b] Eryximachuses, Pausaniases, Aristodemuses, as well as Aristophaneses . . . and what need is there to speak of Socrates and all the others? You all have shared in the philosophic madness and Bacchic frenzy—so accordingly you all will hear; for you will pardon the things then done and now said. But you house servants—and if there is anyone else who is profane and rustic—put large gates over your ears.

"So, men, when the lamp was extinguished and [218c] the boys were outside, I resolved that I should in no way complicate the issue before him, but freely speak what were my opinions. And I nudged him and said, 'Socrates, are you asleep?' 'Certainly not,' he said. 'Do you know then what I have resolved?' 'What in particular?' he said. 'You, in my opinion,' I said, 'have proved to be the only deserving lover of mine; and it seems to me that you hesitate to mention it to me. Now I am in this state: I believe it is very foolish not to gratify you in this or anything else of mine—my wealth or my friends—that [218d] you need; for nothing is more important to me than that I become the best possible; and I believe that, as far as I am concerned, there is no one more competent than you to be a fellow helper to me in this. So I should be far more ashamed before men of good sense for not gratifying a man like you than I should be before the many and senseless for gratifying you.’

"And when he heard this, he said very ironically, and exactly as he is, and in his usual fashion, 'Really, my dear Alcibiades, you're no sucker if what you say about me is really true [218e] and there is some power in me through which you could become better. You must see, you know, an impossible beauty in me, a beauty very different from the fairness of form in yourself. So if, in observing my beauty, you are trying to get a share in it and to exchange beauty for beauty, you are intending to get far the better deal. For you are trying to acquire the truth of beautiful things in exchange for the seeming and opinion of beautiful things; and you really have in mind to exchange [219a] "gold for bronze.” But, blessed one, do consider better: without your being aware of it—I may be nothing. Thought, you know, begins to have keen eyesight when the sight of the eyes starts to decline from its peak; and you are still far from that.’"

And I heard this, and said, 'This is the way matters stand on my side—not one of my words has been said in a way different from what I think; but you yourself take whatever counsel you believe to be best for yourself and me.’

"'Well,' he said, 'what you say is good; for in the future, [219b] after deliberating, we shall do whatever looks best to us two concerning these things and the rest.’

"So I, when I had heard and said these things, and had shot my darts as it were, thought he had been wounded. And I got up, and did not allow him to speak any more, but wrapped my mantle around him for it was winter—and lay down under his blanket; and I threw my arms around this truly [219c] daemonic and amazing being, and lay down beside him the whole night. And not even in this, Socrates, will you say that I lie. But when I had done this, he so far prevailed over me and despised and laughed at my youthful beauty and committed an outrage against it (and in that regard I believed I was something special, men of the jury—for you are the judges of Socrates' arrogance) . . . for know well, by the gods, by the goddesses, that though I slept the night through with Socrates [219d] I got up without anything more untoward having happened than would have been the case if I had slept with my father or elder brother.

"So after this, what notion do .you suppose I had? I believed I had been dishonored, and yet I still admired his nature, moderation, and courage; I had met a human being whose prudence and endurance were such as I believed I should never encounter. Consequently, I did not know how I could be angry at him and be deprived of his association; nor did I have any resources whereby [219e] I could attract him. I knew well that on all sides—he was far more invulnerable to money than Ajax was to iron; and even at that one point where I believed he could be taken, he had escaped me. So I was in a quandary; and enslaved by this human being as no one has been by anyone else, I wandered about in distraction. Now, all this had happened to me earlier; and after this we went together on the expedition to Potidaea, and we shared our mess there. Now first of all he faced trials not only better than I did but better than all others. Whenever we were cut off somewhere and compelled to go without food, as happens in campaigns, [220a] the others were nothing compared to him in self-control. And again at festivities he alone was able to take pleasure in other things, and in drinking as well; for even though he wasn't willing to drink, whenever he was compelled to do so, he outdid everybody; and what is the most amazing thing of all, no human being has ever seen Socrates drunk. Now it is my opinion that there will soon be a test of this. And again, in regard to resistance against the winter—for winters are terrible there—all the rest that he did was amazing. [220b] And once when the frost was the most terrible imaginable, and no one went outdoors (or if any did go out, they wrapped themselves in an amazing number of garments and put on shoes and tied up their feet in felt and sheepskins), he went out among them with the same sort of mantle as he wore at any time, and without shoes he marched through the ice more easily than the others did shod; and the soldiers looked askance [220c] at him as if he were despising them. And that is the way things were.

"'What sort of thing the strong man did and dared’ there on campaign once, is worth hearing. Once, he had gotten a thought, and he stood on the same spot from dawn on, considering it; and when he made no progress, he did not let up but stood searching. And it was already noon, and the men became aware of it; and in amazement one said to another that Socrates had stood there in reflection since dawn. And finally some Ionians, when it was evening and they had dined—for [220d] it was then summer—brought out their pallets and slept in the cold and watched to see if he would also stand during the night. And he stood until it was dawn and the sun came up; and then having made a prayer to the sun he went away. And in combat, if you want to hear about it—for it is just to credit him with this—once when there was a battle for which the generals gave me the prize of excellence, no other human being saved me [220e] but he; for he was not willing to leave me wounded, but saved both myself and my weapons. And I even then, Socrates, asked the generals to offer you the prize of excellence. And in this too you will not blame me and say that I lie; but as a matter of fact, when the generals looked to my rank and wanted to offer me the prize of excellence, you proved more eager than the generals that I take it rather than yourself. Furthermore, men, it was worthwhile to behold Socrates when the army retreated in flight from Delium; [221a] for I happened to be there on horseback and he was a hoplite. The soldiers were then in rout, and while he and Laches were retreating together, I came upon them by chance. And as soon as I saw them, I at once urged the two of them to take heart, and I said I would not leave them behind. I had an even finer opportunity to observe Socrates there than I had had at Potidaea, for I was less in fear because I was on horseback. First of all, how much more sensible he was [221b] than Laches; and secondly, it was my opinion, Aristophanes (and this point is yours); that walking there just as he does here in Athens, 'stalking like a pelican, his eyes darting from side to side,' quietly on the lookout for friends and foes, he made it plain to everyone even at a great distance that if one touches this real man, he will defend himself vigorously. Consequently, he went away safely, both he and his comrade; for when you behave in war as he did, then they just about do not even touch you; instead they pursue [221c] those who turn in headlong flight.

"Now, one could praise Socrates for many other amazing things; but whereas for the rest of his pursuits-—one might perhaps say the like about someone else as well—what deserves all wonder is that respect in which he is like no human being, neither the ancients nor those of the present day. For one might liken Brasidas and others to such a one as Achilles was; and, in turn, liken the sort that Pericles was to both Nestor and Antenor (and there are others as well); [221d] and of the rest one might make likenesses in the same way. But the sort that this human being in his strangeness proved to be, both in himself and in his speeches, one could not even come close to finding, whether one looked among the men of today or among the ancients; unless, after all, one were to liken him in himself and in his speeches to those I say—to no human being but to Silenuses and satyrs.

"And what is more, I omitted to say at the beginning that his speeches too are most like the Silenuses when opened up. [221e] For were one willing to hear Socrates' speeches, they would at first look altogether laughable. The words and phrases that they wrap around themselves on the outside are like that, the very hide of a hybristic satyr. For he talks of pack-asses, blacksmiths, shoe- makers, and tanners, and it looks as if he is always saying the same things through the same things; and hence every inexperienced and foolish human being [222a] would laugh at his speeches. But if one sees them opened up and gets oneself inside them, one will find, first, that they alone of speeches have sense inside; and, second, that they are most divine and have the largest number of images of virtue in them; and that they apply to the largest area, indeed to the whole area that it is proper to examine for one who is going to be beautiful and good.

"Here, men, is what I praise Socrates for; and I mixed in with it what, in turn, I blame him for, when I told you how he committed an outrage against me. And what is more, [222b] he not only did this to me, but to Charmides the son of Glaucon, Euthydemus the son of Diocles, and many many others—for while deceiving them into thinking of him as the lover, he brings it about that he is the beloved rather than the lover. It is this that I am telling you, Agathon. Do not be deceived by him; but with the knowledge of our afflictions be on your guard, and do not, as in the proverb, like a fool realize it after you have suffered.”

[222c] When Alcibiades said this, there was laughter at his outspokenness because it was thought that he was still erotically inclined toward Socrates. Then Socrates said, "You are sober, in my opinion, Alcibiades, for otherwise you would never have so elegantly cast a screen about yourself and tried to conceal why you said all this; for you spoke of it as if it were a side-issue by inserting it at the end, as though you had not said everything for its sake—to set Agathon and me [222d] at odds, believing that I must love you and no one else, and that Agathon must be loved by you and by no one else. But you did not get away with it; this satyr and Silenic drama of yours was quite obvious. Well, my dear Agathon, see that he does not get the advantage—and prepare yourself against anyone setting you and me at odds.”

Then Agathon said, "Why, Socrates, I am afraid [222e] that what you say is true. My evidence is the fact that he lay down between you and me so that he may hold us apart. Well, he will not get the advantage, but I shall come and lie down beside you.”

”Yes," Socrates said, "do come lie down in the place beside me.”

"Zeus!" Alcibiades said. "What the fellow does to me! He believes he must surpass me everywhere. Well, if nothing else, you wondrous being, let Agathon lie down between us.”

"But that is impossible," Socrates said. "For you praised me, and I in turn must praise the one on the right; surely if Agathon lies down next to you, he will not praise me again, will he, before he has been praised by me? But leave it as it is, [223a] daemonic being, and do not begrudge the lad's being eulogized by me, for I want very much to sing his praises.”

"Now I get it, Alcibiades," Agathon said. "It is impossible for me to remain here; and I shall not fail to change my place so that I may be praised by Socrates.”

”This is the usual thing," Alcibiades said. "When Socrates is present it is impossible for someone else to get hold of the beauties, just as now you see how resourcefully he has found a persuasive argument to get Agathon to lie down beside him.”


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