[11] {pho parekhousin . . . pragmata moi parekhon}. Lit. 'cause light . . . causing me trouble.'
Well, let that be (the other answered); answer me one question: How many fleas' feet distance is it, pray, from you to me?[12] They say you measure them by geometric scale.
[12] See Aristoph. 'Clouds,' 144 foll.:
{aneret' arti Khairephonta Sokrates psullan oposous alloito tous autes podas dakousa gar . . .}
Cf. Lucian, ii. 'Prom. in Verb. 6,' and 'Hudibras, the Second Part of,' canto iii.:
How many scores a Flea will jump Of his own length from Head to Rump Which Socrates and Chaerephon In vain essayed so long agon.
But here Antisthenes, appealing to Philippus, interposed: You are a man full of comparisons.[13] Does not this worthy person strike you as somewhat like a bully seeking to pick a quarrel?[14]
[13] Like Biron, 'L. L. L.' v. 2. 854. Or, 'you are a clever caricaturist.' See Plat. 'Symp.' 215 A; Hug, 'Enleitung,' xiv.; Aristoph. 'Birds,' 804 (Frere, p. 173); 'Wasps,' 1309.
[14] Aristoph. 'Frogs,' 857, 'For it ill beseems illustrious bards to scold like market-women.' (Frere, p. 269); 'Knights,' 1410, 'to bully'; 'Eccles.' 142:
{kai loidorountai g' osper empepokotes, kai ton paroinount' ekpherous' oi toxotai.}
Yes (replied the jester), he has a striking likeness to that person and a heap of others. He bristles with metaphors.
Soc. For all that, do not you be too eager to draw comparisons at his expense, or you will find yourself the image of a scold and brawler.[15]
[15] Or, 'a striking person.'
Phil. But what if I compare him to all the primest creatures of the world, to beauty's nonpareils,[16] to nature's best--I might be justly likened to a flatterer but not a brawler.[17]
[16] Lit. 'compare him to those in all things beauteous and the best.' With {tois pasi kalois kai tois beltistois} cf. Thuc. v. 28, {oi 'Argeioi arista eskhon tois pasi}, 'The Argives were in excellent condition in all respects.' As to Philippus's back-handed compliment to the showman, it reminds one of Peter Quince's commendation of Bottom: 'Yea and the best person too; and he is a very paramour for a sweet voice.'
[17] It is not easy to keep pace with the merryman's jests; but if I follow his humour, he says to Socrates: 'If the cap is to fit, you must liken me to one who quits 'assault and battery' for 'compliments [sotto voce, 'lies'] and flattery.''
Soc. Why now, you are like a person apt to pick a quarrel, since you imply they are all his betters.[18]
[18] When Socrates says {ei pant' autou beltio phes einai, k.t.l.}, the sense seems to be: 'No, if you say that all these prime creatures are better than he is, you are an abusive person still.'
Phil. What, would you have me then compare him to worse villains?
Soc. No, not even to worse villains.
Phil. What, then, to nothing, and to nobody?
Soc. To nought in aught. Let him remain his simple self--
Phil. Incomparable. But if my tongue is not to wag, whatever shall I do to earn my dinner?
Soc. Why, that you shall quite easily, if with your wagging tongue you do not try to utter things unutterable.
Here was a pretty quarrel over wine soon kindled and soon burnt.
VII
But on the instant those who had not assisted in the fray gave tongue, the one part urging the jester to proceed with his comparisons, and the other part dissuading.
The voice of Socrates was heard above the tumult: Since we are all so eager to be heard at once, what fitter time than now to sing a song, in chorus.
And suiting the action to the words, he commenced a stave.
The song was barely finished, when a potter's wheel was brought in, on which the dancing-girl was to perform more wonders.
At this point Socrates addressed the man of Syracuse: It seems I am likely to deserve the title which you gave me of a thinker in good earnest. Just now I am speculating by what means your boy and girl may pass a happy time, and we spectators still derive the greatest pleasure from beholding them; and this, I take it, is precisely what you would yourself most wish. Now I maintain, that throwing somersaults in and out of swords is a display of danger uncongenial to a banquet. And as for writing and reading on a wheel that all the while keeps whirling, I do not deny the wonder of it, but what pleasure such a marvel can present, I cannot for the life of me discover. Nor do I see how it is a whit more charming to watch these fair young people twisting about their bodies and imitating wheels than to behold them peacefully reposing.
We need not fare far afield to light on marvels, if that is our object. All about us here is full of marvel; we can begin at once by wondering, why it is the candle gives a light by dint of its bright flame, while side by side with it the bright bronze vessel gives no light, but shows within itself those other objects mirrored.[1] Or, how is it that oil, being moist and liquid, keeps that flame ablaze, but water, just because it is liquid, quenches fire. But no more do these same marvels tend to promote the object of the wine-cup.[2]
[1] Cf. 'Mem.' IV. vii. 7. Socrates' criticism of Anaxagoras' theory with regard to the sun.
[2] Lit. 'work to the same end as wine.'
But now, supposing your young people yonder were to tread a measure to the flute, some pantomime in dance, like those which the Graces and the Hours with the Nymphs are made to tread in pictures,[3] I think they would spend a far more happy time themselves, and our banquet would at once assume a grace and charm unlooked for.
[3] Cf. Plat. 'Laws,' vii. 815 C; Hor. 'Carm.' i. 4. 6:
iunctaeque Nymphis Gratiae decentes alterno terram quatiunt pede.
The Graces and the Nymphs, together knit, With rhythmic feet the meadow beat (Conington).
Ib. iv. 7. 5.
The Syracusan caught the notion readily.
By all that's holy, Socrates (he cried), a capital suggestion, and for my part, I warrant you, I will put a piece upon the stage, which will delight you, one and all.
VIII
With these words the Syracusan made his exit, bent on organising his performance.[1] As soon as he was gone, Socrates once more essayed a novel argument.[2] He thus addressed them:
[1] {sunekroteito}, 'on the composition of his piece.' Al. 'amidst a round of plaudits.'
[2] 'Struck the keynote of a novel theme.' Cf. Plat. 'Symp.' 177 E.
It were but reasonable, sirs, on our part not to ignore the mighty power here present,[3] a divinity in point of age coequal with the everlasting gods, yet in outward form the youngest,[4] who in magnitude embraces all things, and yet his shrine is planted in the soul of man. Love[5] is his name! and least of all should we forget him who are one and all votaries of this god.[6] For myself I cannot name the time at which I have not been in love with some one.[7] And Charmides here has, to my knowledge, captivated many a lover, while his own soul has gone out in longing for the love of not a few himself.[8] So it is with Critobulus also; the beloved of yesterday is become the lover of to-day. Ay, and Niceratus, as I am told, adores his wife, and is by her adored.[9] As to Hermogenes, which of us needs to be told[10] that the soul of this fond lover is consumed with passion for a fair ideal--call it by what name you will--the spirit blent of nobleness and beauty.[11] See you not what chaste severity dwells on his brow; [12] how tranquil his gaze;[13] how moderate his words; how gentle his intonation; now radiant his whole character. And if he enjoys the friendship of the most holy gods, he keeps a place in his regard for us poor mortals. But how is it that you alone, Antisthenes, you misanthrope, love nobody?
[3] Cf. Shelley, 'Hymn to Intellectual Beauty':
The awful shadow of some unseen Power Floats, though unseen, among us. . . .
[4] Reading with L. D. after Blomfield (Aesch. 'Ag.' p. 304), {idrumenou}, or if as vulg. {isoumenou}, transl. 'but in soul is fashioned like to mortal man.'
