|
Socrates |
Alcibiades |
The Drinking Party (=SYMPOSIUM;
excerpts)
by Plato
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
PERSONS OF
THE DIALOGUE: Apollodorus, who repeats to his companion the dialogue which he
had heard from Aristodemus, and had already once narrated to Glaucon. Phaedrus,
Pausanias, Eryximachus, Aristophanes, Agathon, Socrates, Alcibiades, A Troop of
Revelers.
SCENE: The House of Agathon, Ancient Athens
. . . When Socrates had done speaking, the
company applauded, and Aristophanes was beginning to say something in answer to
the allusion which Socrates had made to his own speech, when suddenly there was
a great knocking at the door of the house, as of revelers, and the sound of a
flute-girl was heard. Agathon told the
attendants to go and see who were the intruders. 'If they are friends of ours,' he said, 'invite them in, but if
not, say that the drinking is over.' A
little while afterwards they heard the voice of Alcibiades resounding in the
court; he was in a great state of intoxication, and kept roaring and shouting
'Where is Agathon? Lead me to Agathon,'
and at length, supported by the flute-girl and some of his attendants, he found
his way to them. 'Hail, friends,' he
said, appearing at the door crowned with a massive garland of ivy and violets,
his head flowing with wreaths. 'Will
you have a very drunken man as a companion of your revels? Or shall I crown Agathon, which was my
intention in coming, and go away? For I
was unable to come yesterday, and therefore I am here to-day, carrying on my
head these wreaths, that taking them from my own head, I may crown the head of
this fairest and wisest of men, as I may be allowed to call him. Will you laugh at me because I am
drunk? Yet I know very well that I am
speaking the truth, although you may laugh.
But first tell me; if I come in shall we have the understanding of which
I spoke (supra Will you have a very drunken man? etc.)? Will you drink with me or not?'
The company
were vociferous in begging that he would take his place among them, and Agathon
specially invited him. Thereupon he was
led in by the people who were with him; and as he was being led, intending to
crown Agathon, he took the wreaths from his own head and held them in front of
his eyes; he was thus prevented from seeing Socrates, who made way for him, and
Alcibiades took the vacant place between Agathon and Socrates, and in taking
the place he embraced Agathon and crowned him.
Take off his sandals, said Agathon, and let him make a third on the same
couch.
By all
means; but who makes the third partner in our revels? said Alcibiades, turning
round and starting up as he caught sight of Socrates. By Heracles, he said, what is this? here is Socrates always lying
in wait for me, and always, as his way is, coming out at all sorts of
unsuspected places: and now, what have
you to say for yourself, and why are you lying here, where I perceive that you
have contrived to find a place, not by a joker or lover of jokes, like
Aristophanes, but by the fairest of the company?
Socrates
turned to Agathon and said: I must ask
you to protect me, Agathon; for the passion of this man has grown quite a
serious matter to me. Since I became
his admirer I have never been allowed to speak to any other fair one, or so
much as to look at them. If I do, he
goes wild with envy and jealousy, and not only abuses me but can hardly keep
his hands off me, and at this moment he may do me some harm. Please to see to this, and either reconcile
me to him, or, if he attempts violence, protect me, as I am in bodily fear of
his mad and passionate attempts.
There can
never be reconciliation between you and me, said Alcibiades; but for the
present I will defer your chastisement.
And I must beg you, Agathon, to give me back some of the wreaths that I
may crown the marvelous head of this universal despot--I would not have him
complain of me for crowning you, and neglecting him, who in conversation is the
conqueror of all mankind; and this not only once, as you were the day before
yesterday, but always. Whereupon,
taking some of the wreaths, he crowned Socrates, and again reclined.
Then he
said: You seem, my friends, to be
sober, which is a thing not to be endured; you must drink--for that was the
agreement under which I was admitted--and I elect myself master of the feast
until you are well drunk. Let us have a
large goblet, Agathon, or rather, he said, addressing the attendant, bring me
that wine-cooler. The wine-cooler which
had caught his eye was a vessel holding more than two quarts--this he filled
and emptied, and bade the attendant fill it again for Socrates. Observe, my friends, said Alcibiades, that
this ingenious trick of mine will have no effect on Socrates, for he can drink
any quantity of wine and not be at all nearer being drunk. Socrates drank the cup which the attendant
filled for him.
Eryximachus
said: What is this, Alcibiades? Are we to have neither conversation nor
singing over our cups; but simply to drink as if we were thirsty?
Alcibiades
replied: Hail, worthy son of a most
wise and worthy sire!
The same to
you, said Eryximachus; but what shall we do?
That I leave
to you, said Alcibiades.
'The wise
physician skilled our wounds to heal (from Pope's Homer, Il.)'
shall
prescribe and we will obey. What do you
want?
Well, said
Eryximachus, before you appeared we had passed a resolution that each one of us
in turn should make a speech in praise of love, and as good a one as he
could: the turn was passed round from
left to right; and as all of us have spoken, and you have not spoken but have
well drunken, you ought to speak, and then impose upon Socrates any task which
you please, and he on his right hand neighbor, and so on.
That is
good, Eryximachus, said Alcibiades; and yet the comparison of a drunken man's
speech with those of sober men is hardly fair; and I should like to know, sweet
friend, whether you really believe what Socrates was just now saying; for I can
assure you that the very reverse is the fact, and that if I praise any one but
himself in his presence, whether God or man, he will hardly keep his hands off
me.
For shame,
said Socrates.
Hold your
tongue, said Alcibiades, for by Poseidon, there is no one else whom I will
praise when you are of the company.
Well then,
said Eryximachus, if you like praise Socrates.
What do you
think, Eryximachus? said Alcibiades:
shall I attack him and inflict the punishment before you all?
What are you
about? said Socrates; are you going to raise a laugh at my expense? Is that the meaning of your praise?
I am going
to speak the truth, if you will permit me.
I not only
permit, but exhort you to speak the truth.
Then I will
begin at once, said Alcibiades, and if I say anything which is not true, you
may interrupt me if you will, and say 'that is a lie,' though my intention is
to speak the truth. But you must not
wonder if I speak any how as things come into my mind; for the fluent and
orderly enumeration of all your singularities is not a task which is easy to a
man in my condition.
And now, my
boys, I shall praise Socrates in a figure which will appear to him to be a
caricature, and yet I speak, not to make fun of him, but only for the truth's
sake. I say, that he is exactly like
the busts of Silenus, which are set up in the statuaries' shops, holding pipes
and flutes in their mouths; and they are made to open in the middle, and have
images of gods inside them. I say also
that he is like Marsyas the satyr. You
yourself will not deny, Socrates, that your face is like that of a satyr. Aye, and there is a resemblance in other
points too. For example, you are a
bully, as I can prove by witnesses, if you will not confess. And are you not a flute-player? That you are, and a performer far more
wonderful than Marsyas. He indeed with
instruments used to charm the souls of men by the power of his breath, and the
players of his music do so still: for
the melodies of are derived from Marsyas who taught them, and these, whether
they are played by a great master or by a miserable flute-girl, have a power
which no others have; they alone possess the soul and reveal the wants of those
who have need of gods and mysteries, because they are divine. But you produce the same effect with your
words only, and do not require the flute:
that is the difference between you and him. When we hear any other speaker, even a very good one, he produces
absolutely no effect upon us, or not much, whereas the mere fragments of you
and your words, even at second-hand, and however imperfectly repeated, amaze
and possess the souls of every man, woman, and child who comes within hearing of
them. And if I were not afraid that you
would think me hopelessly drunk, I would have sworn as well as spoken to the
influence which they have always had and still have over me. For my heart leaps within me more than that
of any Corybantian reveler, and my eyes rain tears when I hear them. And I observe that many others are affected
in the same manner. I have heard
Pericles and other great orators, and I thought that they spoke well, but I
never had any similar feeling; my soul was not stirred by them, nor was I angry
at the thought of my own slavish state.
But this Marsyas has often brought me to such a pass, that I have felt
as if I could hardly endure the life which I am leading (this, Socrates, you
will admit); and I am conscious that if I did not shut my ears against him, and
fly as from the voice of the siren, my fate would be like that of others,--he
would transfix me, and I should grow old sitting at his feet. For he makes me confess that I ought not to live
as I do, neglecting the wants of my own soul, and busying myself with the
concerns of the Athenians; therefore I hold my ears and tear myself away from
him. And he is the only person who ever
made me ashamed, which you might think not to be in my nature, and there is no
one else who does the same. For I know
that I cannot answer him or say that I ought not to do as he bids, but when I
leave his presence the love of popularity gets the better of me. And therefore I run away and fly from him,
and when I see him I am ashamed of what I have confessed to him. Many a time have I wished that he were dead,
and yet I know that I should be much more sorry than glad, if he were to
die: so that I am at my wit's end.
And this is
what I and many others have suffered from the flute-playing of this satyr. Yet hear me once more while I show you how
exact the image is, and how marvelous his power. For let me tell you; none of you know him; but I will reveal him
to you; having begun, I must go on. See
you how fond he is of the fair? He is
always with them and is always being smitten by them, and then again he knows
nothing and is ignorant of all things--such is the appearance which he puts
on. Is he not like a Silenus in
this? To be sure he is: his outer mask is the carved head of the
Silenus; but, O my companions in drink, when he is opened, what temperance
there is residing within! Know you that
beauty and wealth and honor, at which the many wonder, are of no account with
him, and are utterly despised by him:
he regards not at all the persons who are gifted with them; mankind are
nothing to him; all his life is spent in mocking and flouting at them. But when I opened him, and looked within at
his serious purpose, I saw in him divine and golden images of such fascinating
beauty that I was ready to do in a moment whatever Socrates commanded: they may have escaped the observation of
others, but I saw them. Now I fancied
that he was seriously enamored of my beauty, and I thought that I should
therefore have a grand opportunity of hearing him tell what he knew, for I had
a wonderful opinion of the attractions of my youth. In the prosecution of this design, when I next went to him, I
sent away the attendant who usually accompanied me (I will confess the whole
truth, and beg you to listen; and if I speak falsely, do you, Socrates, expose
the falsehood). Well, he and I were
alone together, and I thought that when there was nobody with us, I should hear
him speak the language which lovers use to their loves when they are by
themselves, and I was delighted.
Nothing of the sort; he conversed as usual, and spent the day with me
and then went away. Afterwards I
challenged him to the palaestra; and he wrestled and closed with me several
times when there was no one present; I fancied that I might succeed in this
manner. Not a bit; I made no way with
him. Lastly, as I had failed hitherto,
I thought that I must take stronger measures and attack him boldly, and, as I
had begun, not give him up, but see how matters stood between him and me. So I invited him to sup with me, just as if
he were a fair youth, and I a designing lover.
He was not easily persuaded to come; he did, however, after a while
accept the invitation, and when he came the first time, he wanted to go away at
once as soon as supper was over, and I had not the face to detain him. The second time, still in pursuance of my
design, after we had supped, I went on conversing far into the night, and when
he wanted to go away, I pretended that the hour was late and that he had much
better remain. So he lay down on the
couch next to me, the same on which he had supped, and there was no one but
ourselves sleeping in the apartment.
All this may be told without shame to any one. But what follows I could hardly tell you if I were sober. Yet as the proverb says, 'In vino veritas,'
whether with boys, or without them (In allusion to two proverbs.); and
therefore I must speak. Nor, again,
should I be justified in concealing the lofty actions of Socrates when I come
to praise him. Moreover I have felt the
serpent's sting; and he who has suffered, as they say, is willing to tell his
fellow-sufferers only, as they alone will be likely to understand him, and will
not be extreme in judging of the sayings or doings which have been wrung from
his agony. For I have been bitten by a
more than viper's tooth; I have known in my soul, or in my heart, or in some
other part, that worst of pangs, more violent in ingenuous youth than any
serpent's tooth, the pang of philosophy, which will make a man say or do
anything. And you whom I see around me,
Phaedrus and Agathon and Eryximachus and Pausanias and Aristodemus and
Aristophanes, all of you, and I need not say Socrates himself, have had
experience of the same madness and passion in your longing after wisdom. Therefore listen and excuse my doings then
and my sayings now. But let the
attendants and other profane and unmannered persons close up the doors of their
ears.
When the
lamp was put out and the servants had gone away, I thought that I must be plain
with him and have no more ambiguity. So
I gave him a shake, and I said:
'Socrates, are you asleep?'
'No,' he said. 'Do you know what
I am meditating? 'What are you
meditating?' he said. 'I think,' I
replied, 'that of all the lovers whom I have ever had you are the only one who
is worthy of me, and you appear to be too modest to speak. Now I feel that I should be a fool to refuse
you this or any other favor, and therefore I come to lay at your feet all that
I have and all that my friends have, in the hope that you will assist me in the
way of virtue, which I desire above all things, and in which I believe that you
can help me better than any one else.
And I should certainly have more reason to be ashamed of what wise men
would say if I were to refuse a favor to such as you, than of what the world,
who are mostly fools, would say of me if I granted it.' To these words he replied in the ironical
manner which is so characteristic of him:--'Alcibiades, my friend, you have
indeed an elevated aim if what you say is true, and if there really is in me
any power by which you may become better; truly you must see in me some rare
beauty of a kind infinitely higher than any which I see in you. And therefore, if you mean to share with me
and to exchange beauty for beauty, you will have greatly the advantage of me;
you will gain true beauty in return for appearance--like Diomede, gold in
exchange for brass. But look again,
sweet friend, and see whether you are not deceived in me. The mind begins to grow critical when the
bodily eye fails, and it will be a long time before you get old.' Hearing this, I said: 'I have told you my purpose, which is quite
serious, and do you consider what you think best for you and me.' 'That is good,' he said; 'at some other time
then we will consider and act as seems best about this and about other
matters.' Whereupon, I fancied that he
was smitten, and that the words which I had uttered like arrows had wounded
him, and so without waiting to hear more I got up, and throwing my coat about
him crept under his threadbare cloak, as the time of year was winter, and there
I lay during the whole night having this wonderful monster in my arms. This again, Socrates, will not be denied by
you. And yet, notwithstanding all, he
was so superior to my solicitations, so contemptuous and derisive and
disdainful of my beauty--which really, as I fancied, had some
attractions--hear, O judges; for judges you shall be of the haughty virtue of
Socrates--nothing more happened, but in the morning when I awoke (let all the gods
and goddesses be my witnesses) I arose as from the couch of a father or an
elder brother.
What do you
suppose must have been my feelings, after this rejection, at the thought of my
own dishonor? And yet I could not help
wondering at his natural temperance and self-restraint and manliness. I never imagined that I could have met with
a man such as he is in wisdom and endurance.
And therefore I could not be angry with him or renounce his company, any
more than I could hope to win him. For
I well knew that if Ajax could not be wounded by steel, much less he by money;
and my only chance of captivating him by my personal attractions had
failed. So I was at my wit's end; no
one was ever more hopelessly enslaved by another. All this happened before he and I went on the expedition to
Potidaea; there we messed together, and I had the opportunity of observing his
extraordinary power of sustaining fatigue.
His endurance was simply marvelous when, being cut off from our
supplies, we were compelled to go without food--on such occasions, which often
happen in time of war, he was superior not only to me but to everybody; there
was no one to be compared to him. Yet
at a festival he was the only person who had any real powers of enjoyment;
though not willing to drink, he could if compelled beat us all at
that,--wonderful to relate! no human being had ever seen Socrates drunk; and
his powers, if I am not mistaken, will be tested before long. His fortitude in enduring cold was also
surprising. There was a severe frost,
for the winter in that region is really tremendous, and everybody else either
remained indoors, or if they went out had on an amazing quantity of clothes,
and were well shod, and had their feet swathed in felt and fleeces: in the midst of this, Socrates with his bare
feet on the ice and in his ordinary dress marched better than the other
soldiers who had shoes, and they looked daggers at him because he seemed to
despise them.
I have told
you one tale, and now I must tell you another, which is worth hearing,
'Of the
doings and sufferings of the enduring man'
while he was
on the expedition. One morning he was
thinking about something which he could not resolve; he would not give it up,
but continued thinking from early dawn until noon--there he stood fixed in
thought; and at noon attention was drawn to him, and the rumor ran through the
wondering crowd that Socrates had been standing and thinking about something
ever since the break of day. At last,
in the evening after supper, some Ionians out of curiosity (I should explain
that this was not in winter but in summer), brought out their mats and slept in
the open air that they might watch him and see whether he would stand all
night. There he stood until the following
morning; and with the return of light he offered up a prayer to the sun, and
went his way (compare supra). I will
also tell, if you please--and indeed I am bound to tell--of his courage in
battle; for who but he saved my life?
Now this was the engagement in which I received the prize of velour: for I was wounded and he would not leave me,
but he rescued me and my arms; and he ought to have received the prize of
velour which the generals wanted to confer on me partly on account of my rank,
and I told them so, (this, again, Socrates will not impeach or deny), but he
was more eager than the generals that I and not he should have the prize. There was another occasion on which his
behavior was very remarkable--in the flight of the army after the battle of
Delium, where he served among the heavy-armed,--I had a better opportunity of
seeing him than at Potidaea, for I was myself on horseback, and therefore
comparatively out of danger. He and
Laches were retreating, for the troops were in flight, and I met them and told
them not to be discouraged, and promised to remain with them; and there you
might see him, Aristophanes, as you describe, just as he is in the streets of
Athens, stalking like a pelican, and rolling his eyes, calmly contemplating
enemies as well as friends, and making very intelligible to anybody, even from
a distance, that whoever attacked him would be likely to meet with a stout
resistance; and in this way he and his companion escaped--for this is the sort
of man who is never touched in war; those only are pursued who are running away
headlong. I particularly observed how
superior he was to Laches in presence of mind.
Many are the marvels which I might narrate in praise of Socrates; most
of his ways might perhaps be paralleled in another man, but his absolute
unlikeness to any human being that is or ever has been is perfectly
astonishing. You may imagine Brasidas
and others to have been like Achilles; or you may imagine Nestor and Antenor to
have been like Pericles; and the same may be said of other famous men, but of
this strange being you will never be able to find any likeness, however remote,
either among men who now are or who ever have been--other than that which I
have already suggested of Silenus and the satyrs; and they represent in a
figure not only himself, but his words.
For, although I forgot to mention this to you before, his words are like
the images of Silenus which open; they are ridiculous when you first hear them;
he clothes himself in language that is like the skin of the wanton satyr--for
his talk is of pack-asses and smiths and cobblers and curriers, and he is
always repeating the same things in the same words, so that any ignorant or
inexperienced person might feel disposed to laugh at him; but he who opens the
bust and sees what is within will find that they are the only words which have
a meaning in them, and also the most divine, abounding in fair images of
virtue, and of the widest comprehension, or rather extending to the whole duty
of a good and honorable man.
This,
friends, is my praise of Socrates. I
have added my blame of him for his ill-treatment of me; and he has ill-treated
not only me, but Charmides the son of Glaucon, and Euthydemus the son of
Diocles, and many others in the same way--beginning as their lover he has ended
by making them pay their addresses to him.
Wherefore I say to you, Agathon, 'Be not deceived by him; learn from me
and take warning, and do not be a fool and learn by experience, as the proverb
says.'
When
Alcibiades had finished, there was a laugh at his outspokenness; for he seemed
to be still in love with Socrates. . . .