Complete Works (114 page)

How do you think I felt after that? Of course, I was deeply humiliated, but also I couldn’t help admiring his natural character, his moderation, his fortitude—here was a man whose strength and wisdom went beyond my wildest dreams! How could I bring myself to hate him? I couldn’t bear to lose his friendship. But how could I possibly win him over? I knew [e] very well that money meant much less to him than enemy weapons ever meant to Ajax,
⁵⁵
and the only trap by means of which I had thought I might capture him had already proved a dismal failure. I had no idea what to do, no purpose in life; ah, no one else has ever known the real meaning of slavery!

All this had already occurred when Athens invaded Potidaea,
⁵⁶
where we served together and shared the same mess. Now, first, he took the hardships of the campaign much better than I ever did—much better, in fact, than anyone in the whole army. When we were cut off from our supplies, as often happens in the field, no one else stood up to hunger as
[220]
well as he did. And yet he was the one man who could really enjoy a feast; and though he didn’t much want to drink, when he had to, he could drink the best of us under the table. Still, and most amazingly, no one ever saw him drunk (as we’ll straightaway put to the test).

Add to this his amazing resistance to the cold—and, let me tell you, the [b] winter there is something awful. Once, I remember, it was frightfully cold; no one so much as stuck his nose outside. If we absolutely had to leave our tent, we wrapped ourselves in anything we could lay our hands on and tied extra pieces of felt or sheepskin over our boots. Well, Socrates went out in that weather wearing nothing but this same old light cloak, and even in bare feet he made better progress on the ice than the other [c] soldiers did in their boots. You should have seen the looks they gave him; they thought he was only doing it to spite them!

So much for that! But you should hear what else he did during that same campaign,

The exploit our strong-hearted hero dared to do.
⁵⁷

One day, at dawn, he started thinking about some problem or other; he just stood outside, trying to figure it out. He couldn’t resolve it, but he wouldn’t give up. He simply stood there, glued to the same spot. By midday, many soldiers had seen him, and, quite mystified, they told everyone that Socrates had been standing there all day, thinking about something. He was still there when evening came, and after dinner some Ionians [d] moved their bedding outside, where it was cooler and more comfortable (all this took place in the summer), but mainly in order to watch if Socrates was going to stay out there all night. And so he did; he stood on the very same spot until dawn! He only left next morning, when the sun came out, and he made his prayers to the new day.

And if you would like to know what he was like in battle—this is a tribute he really deserves. You know that I was decorated for bravery during [e] that campaign: well, during that very battle, Socrates single-handedly saved my life! He absolutely did! He just refused to leave me behind when I was wounded, and he rescued not only me but my armor as well. For my part, Socrates, I told them right then that the decoration really belonged to you, and you can blame me neither for doing so then nor for saying so now. But the generals, who seemed much more concerned with my social position, insisted on giving the decoration to me, and, I must say, you were more eager than the generals themselves for me to have it.

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You should also have seen him at our horrible retreat from Delium.
⁵⁸
I was there with the cavalry, while Socrates was a foot soldier. The army had already dispersed in all directions, and Socrates was retreating together with Laches. I happened to see them just by chance, and the moment I did I started shouting encouragements to them, telling them I was never going to leave their side, and so on. That day I had a better opportunity [b] to watch Socrates than I ever had at Potidaea, for, being on horseback, I wasn’t in very great danger. Well, it was easy to see that he was remarkably more collected than Laches. But when I looked again I couldn’t get your words, Aristophanes, out of my mind: in the midst of battle he was making his way exactly as he does around town,

… with swagg’ring gait and roving eye.
⁵⁹

He was observing everything quite calmly, looking out for friendly troops and keeping an eye on the enemy. Even from a great distance it was obvious that this was a very brave man, who would put up a terrific fight if anyone approached him. This is what saved both of them. For, as a rule, you try to put as much distance as you can between yourself and such men in battle; you go after the others, those who run away helter-skelter. [c]

You could say many other marvelous things in praise of Socrates. Perhaps he shares some of his specific accomplishments with others. But, as a whole, he is unique; he is like no one else in the past and no one in the present—this is by far the most amazing thing about him. For we might be able to form an idea of what Achilles was like by comparing him to Brasidas or some other great warrior, or we might compare Pericles with Nestor or Antenor or one of the other great orators.
⁶⁰
There is a parallel [d] for everyone—everyone else, that is. But this man here is so bizarre, his ways and his ideas are so unusual, that, search as you might, you’ll never find anyone else, alive or dead, who’s even remotely like him. The best you can do is not to compare him to anything human, but to liken him, as I do, to Silenus and the satyrs, and the same goes for his ideas and arguments.

Come to think of it, I should have mentioned this much earlier: even his ideas and arguments are just like those hollow statues of Silenus. If [e] you were to listen to his arguments, at first they’d strike you as totally ridiculous; they’re clothed in words as coarse as the hides worn by the most vulgar satyrs. He’s always going on about pack asses, or blacksmiths, or cobblers, or tanners; he’s always making the same tired old points in the same tired old words. If you are foolish, or simply unfamiliar with him, you’d find it impossible not to laugh at his arguments. But if you
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see them when they open up like the statues, if you go behind their surface, you’ll realize that no other arguments make any sense. They’re truly worthy of a god, bursting with figures of virtue inside. They’re of great—no, of the greatest—importance for anyone who wants to become a truly good man.

Well, this is my praise of Socrates, though I haven’t spared him my [b] reproach, either; I told you how horribly he treated me—and not only me but also Charmides, Euthydemus, and many others. He has deceived us all: he presents himself as your lover, and, before you know it, you’re in love with him yourself! I warn you, Agathon, don’t let him fool you! Remember our torments; be on your guard: don’t wait, like the fool in the [c] proverb, to learn your lesson from your own misfortune.
⁶¹

Alcibiades’ frankness provoked a lot of laughter, especially since it was obvious that he was still in love with Socrates, who immediately said to him:

“You’re perfectly sober after all, Alcibiades. Otherwise you could never have concealed your motive so gracefully: how casually you let it drop, almost like an afterthought, at the very end of your speech! As if the real [d] point of all this has not been simply to make trouble between Agathon and me! You think that I should be in love with you and no one else, while you, and no one else, should be in love with Agathon—well, we were
not
deceived; we’ve seen through your little satyr play. Agathon, my friend, don’t let him get away with it: let no one come between us!”

Agathon said to Socrates:

[e] “I’m beginning to think you’re right; isn’t it proof of that that he literally came between us here on the couch? Why would he do this if he weren’t set on separating us? But he won’t get away with it; I’m coming right over to lie down next to you.”

“Wonderful,” Socrates said. “Come here, on my other side.”

“My god!” cried Alcibiades. “How I suffer in his hands! He kicks me when I’m down; he never lets me go. Come, don’t be selfish, Socrates; at least, let’s compromise: let Agathon lie down between us.”

“Why, that’s impossible,” Socrates said. “You have already delivered your praise of me, and now it’s my turn to praise whoever’s on my right. But if Agathon were next to you, he’d have to praise me all over again
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instead of having me speak in his honor, as I very much want to do in any case. Don’t be jealous; let me praise the boy.”

“Oh, marvelous,” Agathon cried. “Alcibiades, nothing can make me stay next to you now. I’m moving no matter what. I simply
must
hear what Socrates has to say about me.”

“There we go again,” said Alcibiades. “It’s the same old story: when Socrates is around, nobody else can get close to a good-looking man. Look [b] how smoothly and plausibly he found a reason for Agathon to lie down next to him!”

And then, all of a sudden, while Agathon was changing places, a large drunken group, finding the gates open because someone was just leaving, walked into the room and joined the party. There was noise everywhere, and everyone was made to start drinking again in no particular order.

At that point, Aristodemus said, Eryximachus, Phaedrus, and some [c] others among the original guests made their excuses and left. He himself fell asleep and slept for a long time (it was winter, and the nights were quite long). He woke up just as dawn was about to break; the roosters were crowing already. He saw that the others had either left or were asleep on their couches and that only Agathon, Aristophanes, and Socrates were still awake, drinking out of a large cup which they were passing around [d] from left to right. Socrates was talking to them. Aristodemus couldn’t remember exactly what they were saying—he’d missed the first part of their discussion, and he was half-asleep anyway—but the main point was that Socrates was trying to prove to them that authors should be able to write both comedy and tragedy: the skillful tragic dramatist should also be a comic poet. He was about to clinch his argument, though, to tell the truth, sleepy as they were, they were hardly able to follow his reasoning. In fact, Aristophanes fell asleep in the middle of the discussion, and very soon thereafter, as day was breaking, Agathon also drifted off.

But after getting them off to sleep, Socrates got up and left, and Aristodemus followed him, as always. He said that Socrates went directly to the Lyceum, washed up, spent the rest of the day just as he always did, and only then, as evening was falling, went home to rest.

1
. Agathon’s name could be translated “Goodman.” The proverb is, “Good men go uninvited to an inferior man’s feast” (Eupolis fr. 289 Kock).

2
. Menelaus calls on Agamemnon at
Iliad
ii.408. Menelaus is called a limp spearman at xvii.587–88.

3
. An allusion to
Iliad
x.224, “When two go together, one has an idea before the other.”

4
. Dionysus was the god of wine and drunkenness.

5
.
Theogony
116–120, 118 omitted.

6
. Acusilaus was an early-fifth-century writer of genealogies.

7
. Parmenides, B 13 Diels-Kranz.

8
. Accepting the deletion of
ē
in e5.

9
. Cf.
Iliad
x.482, xv.262;
Odyssey
ix.381.

10
. Alcestis was the self-sacrificing wife of Admetus, whom Apollo gave a chance to live if anyone would go to Hades in his place.

11
. Orpheus was a musician of legendary powers, who charmed his way into the underworld in search of his dead wife, Eurydice.

12
. In his play,
The Myrmidons
. In Homer there is no hint of sexual attachment between Achilles and Patroclus.

13
. Harmodius and Aristogiton attempted to overthrow the tyrant Hippias in 514
B.C.
Although their attempt failed, the tyranny fell three years later, and the lovers were celebrated as tyrannicides.

14
.
Iliad
ii.71.

15
. Heraclitus of Ephesus, a philosopher of the early fifth century, was known for his enigmatic sayings. This one is quoted elsewhere in a slightly different form, frg. B 51 Diels-Kranz.

16
.
Iliad
v.385,
Odyssey
xi.305 ff.

17
. Cf.
Odyssey
viii.266 ff.

18
. Arcadia included the city of Mantinea, which opposed Sparta, and was rewarded by having its population divided and dispersed in 385
B.C.
Aristophanes seems to be referring anachronistically to those events; such anachronisms are not uncommon in Plato.

19
. Contrast 178b.

20
.
Iliad
xix.92–93. “Mischief” translates
At
ē
.

21
. “Moral character”:
aret
ē
, i.e., virtue.

22
. A proverbial expression attributed by Aristotle (
Rhetoric
1406a17–23) to the fourth-century liberal thinker and rhetorician Alcidamas.

23
.
S
ō
phrosun
ē
. The word can be translated also as “temperance” and, most literally, “sound-mindedness.” (Plato and Aristotle generally contrast
s
ō
phrosun
ē
as a virtue with self-control: the person with
s
ō
phrosun
ē
is naturally well-tempered in every way and so does not need to control himself, or hold himself back.)

24
. From Sophocles, fragment 234b Dindorf: “Even Ares cannot withstand Necessity.” Ares is the god of war.

25
. See
Odyssey
viii.266–366. Aphrodite’s husband Hephaestus made a snare that caught Ares in bed with Aphrodite.

26
. “Wisdom” translates
sophia
, which Agathon treats as roughly equivalent to
techn
ē
(professional skill); he refers mainly to the ability to produce things. Accordingly “wisdom” translates
sophia
in the first instance; afterwards in this passage it is “skill” or “art.”