6. The Second Speech of Socrates:
Divine Madness and the Immortality of the Soul

Phaedrus 6 (243e-246a)

Socrates. Know then, fair youth, ^[244a] that the former discourse was the word of Phaedrus, the son of Vain Man, who dwells in the city of Myrrhina (Myrrhinusius). And this which I am about to utter is the recantation of Stesichorus the son of Godly Man (Euphemus), who comes from the town of Desire (Himera), and is to the following effect: “I told a lie when I said” that the beloved ought to accept the non-lover when he might have the lover, because the one is sane, and the other mad. It might be so if madness were simply an evil; but there is also a madness which is a divine gift, and the source of the chiefest blessings granted to men. For prophecy is a madness, and the prophetess at Delphi ^[244b] and the priestesses at Dodona when out of their senses have conferred great benefits on Hellas, both in public and private life, but when in their senses few or none.

^243.e ΣΩ. Οὑτωσὶ τοίνυν͵ ὦ παῖ καλέ͵ ἐννόησον͵ ὡς ὁ μὲν ^244.a πρότερος ἦν λόγος Φαίδρου τοῦ Πυθοκλέους͵ Μυρρινουσίου ἀνδρός· ὃν δὲ μέλλω λέγειν͵ Στησιχόρου τοῦ Εὐφήμου͵ Ἱμεραίου. λεκτέος δὲ ὧδε͵ ὅτι Οὐκ ἔστ΄ ἔτυμος λόγος ὃς ἂν παρόντος ἐραστοῦ τῷ μὴ ἐρῶντι μᾶλλον φῇ δεῖν χαρίζεσθαι͵ διότι δὴ ὁ μὲν μαίνεται͵ ὁ δὲ σωφρονεῖ. εἰ μὲν γὰρ ἦν ἁπλοῦν τὸ μανίαν κακὸν εἶναι͵ καλῶς ἂν ἐλέγετο· νῦν δὲ τὰ μέγιστα τῶν ἀγαθῶν ἡμῖν γίγνεται διὰ μανίας͵ θείᾳ μέντοι δόσει διδομένης. ἥ τε γὰρ δὴ ἐν Δελφοῖς προφῆτις αἵ τ΄ ἐν ^244.b Δωδώνῃ ἱέρειαι μανεῖσαι μὲν πολλὰ δὴ καὶ καλὰ ἰδίᾳ τε καὶ δημοσίᾳ τὴν Ἑλλάδα ἠργάσαντο͵ σωφρονοῦσαι δὲ βραχέα ἢ οὐδέν·

And I might also tell you how the Sibyl and other inspired persons have given to many an one many an intimation of the future which has saved them from falling. But it would be tedious to speak of what every one knows.

καὶ ἐὰν δὴ λέγωμεν Σίβυλλάν τε καὶ ἄλλους͵ ὅσοι μαντικῇ χρώμενοι ἐνθέῳ πολλὰ δὴ πολλοῖς προλέγοντες εἰς τὸ μέλλον ὤρθωσαν͵ μηκύνοιμεν ἂν δῆλα παντὶ λέγοντες.

There will be more reason in appealing to the ancient inventors of names, who would never ^[244c] have connected prophecy (mantikê) which foretells the future and is the noblest of arts, with madness (manikê), or called them both by the same name, if they had deemed madness to be a disgrace or dishonour; -- they must have thought that there was an inspired madness which was a noble thing; for the two words, mantikê and manikê, are really the same, and the letter t is only a modern and tasteless insertion.

τόδε μὴν ἄξιον ἐπιμαρτύρασθαι͵ ὅτι καὶ τῶν παλαιῶν οἱ τὰ ὀνόματα τιθέμενοι οὐκ αἰσχρὸν ἡγοῦντο οὐδὲ ὄνειδος μανίαν·^244.c οὐ γὰρ ἂν τῇ καλλίστῃ τέχνῃ͵ ᾗ τὸ μέλλον κρίνεται͵ αὐτὸ τοῦτο τοὔνομα ἐμπλέκοντες μανικὴν ἐκάλεσαν. ἀλλ΄ ὡς καλοῦ ὄντος͵ ὅταν θείᾳ μοίρᾳ γίγνηται͵ οὕτω νομίσαντες ἔθεντο͵ οἱ δὲ νῦν ἀπειροκάλως τὸ ταῦ ἐπεμβάλλοντες μαντικὴν ἐκάλεσαν.

[1] And this is confirmed by the name which was given by them to the rational investigation of futurity, whether made by the help of birds or of other signs -- this, for as much as it is an art which supplies from the reasoning faculty mind (nous) ^[244d] and information (historia) to human thought (oiêsis) they originally termed oionoistikê, but the word has been lately altered and made sonorous by the modern introduction of the letter Omega (oionoistikê and oiônistikê), and in proportion as prophecy (mantikê) is more perfect and august than augury, both in name and fact, in the same proportion, as the ancients testify, is madness superior to a sane mind (sôphrosunê) for the one is only of human, but the other of divine origin.

ἐπεὶ καὶ τήν γε τῶν ἐμφρόνων͵ ζήτησιν τοῦ μέλλοντος διά τε ὀρνίθων ποιουμένων καὶ τῶν ἄλλων σημείων͵ ἅτ΄ ἐκ διανοίας ποριζομένων ἀνθρωπίνῃ οἰήσει νοῦν τε καὶ ἱστορίαν͵ οἰονοϊστικὴν ἐπωνόμασαν͵ ^244.d ἣν νῦν οἰωνιστικὴν τῷ ω σεμνύνοντες οἱ νέοι καλοῦσιν· ὅσῳ δὴ οὖν τελεώτερον καὶ ἐντιμότερον μαντικὴ οἰωνιστικῆς͵ τό τε ὄνομα τοῦ ὀνόματος ἔργον τ΄ ἔργου͵ τόσῳ κάλλιον μαρτυροῦσιν οἱ παλαιοὶ μανίαν σωφροσύνης τὴν ἐκ θεοῦ τῆς παρ΄ ἀνθρώπων γιγνομένης.

[2] Again, where plagues and mightiest woes have bred in certain families, owing to some ancient blood-guiltiness, there madness ^[244e] has entered with holy prayers and rites, and by inspired utterances found a way of deliverance for those who are in need; and he who has part in this gift, and is truly possessed and duly out of his mind, is by the use of purifications and mysteries made whole and except from evil, future as well as present, and has a release from ^[245a] the calamity which was afflicting him.

ἀλλὰ μὴν νόσων γε καὶ πόνων τῶν μεγίστων͵ ἃ δὴ παλαιῶν ἐκ μηνιμάτων ποθὲν ἔν τισι τῶν γενῶν ἡ μανία ἐγγενομένη καὶ προφητεύσασα͵ οἷς ἔδει ^244.e ἀπαλλαγὴν ηὕρετο͵ καταφυγοῦσα πρὸς θεῶν εὐχάς τε καὶ λατρείας͵ ὅθεν δὴ καθαρμῶν τε καὶ τελετῶν τυχοῦσα ἐξάντη ἐποίησε τὸν [ἑαυτῆς] ἔχοντα πρός τε τὸν παρόντα καὶ τὸν ἔπειτα χρόνον͵ λύσιν τῷ ὀρθῶς μανέντι τε καὶ κατασχομένῳ ^245.a τῶν παρόντων κακῶν εὑρομένη.

[3] The third kind is the madness of those who are possessed by the Muses; which taking hold of a delicate and virgin soul, and there inspiring frenzy, awakens lyrical and all other numbers; with these adorning the myriad actions of ancient heroes for the instruction of posterity. But he who, having no touch of the Muses’ madness in his soul, comes to the door and thinks that he will get into the temple by the help of art -- he, I say, and his poetry are not admitted; the sane man disappears and is nowhere when he enters into rivalry with the madman.

τρίτη δὲ ἀπὸ Μουσῶν κατοκωχή τε καὶ μανία͵ λαβοῦσα ἁπαλὴν καὶ ἄβατον ψυχήν͵ ἐγείρουσα καὶ ἐκβακχεύουσα κατά τε ᾠδὰς καὶ κατὰ τὴν ἄλλην ποίησιν͵ μυρία τῶν παλαιῶν ἔργα κοσμοῦσα τοὺς ἐπιγιγνομένους παιδεύει· ὃς δ΄ ἂν ἄνευ μανίας Μουσῶν ἐπὶ ποιητικὰς θύρας ἀφίκηται͵ πεισθεὶς ὡς ἄρα ἐκ τέχνης ἱκανὸς ποιητὴς ἐσόμενος͵ ἀτελὴς αὐτός τε καὶ ἡ ποίησις ὑπὸ τῆς τῶν μαινομένων ἡ τοῦ σωφρονοῦντος ἠφανίσθη.

^[245b] I might tell of many other noble deeds which have sprung from inspired madness. And therefore, let no one frighten or flutter us by saying that the temperate friend is to be chosen rather than the inspired, but let him further show that love is not sent by the gods for any good to lover or beloved; if he can do so we will allow him to carry off the palm. And we, on our part, will prove in answer to him that the madness of love ^[245c] is the greatest of heaven’s blessings, and the proof shall be one which the wise will receive, and the witling disbelieve. But first of all, let us view the affections and actions of the soul divine and human, and try to ascertain the truth about them.

^245.b Τοσαῦτα μέν σοι καὶ ἔτι πλείω ἔχω μανίας γιγνομένης ἀπὸ θεῶν λέγειν καλὰ ἔργα. ὥστε τοῦτό γε αὐτὸ μὴ φοβώ μεθα͵ μηδέ τις ἡμᾶς λόγος θορυβείτω δεδιττόμενος ὡς πρὸ τοῦ κεκινημένου τὸν σώφρονα δεῖ προαιρεῖσθαι φίλον· ἀλλὰ τόδε πρὸς ἐκείνῳ δείξας φερέσθω τὰ νικητήρια͵ ὡς οὐκ ἐπ΄ ὠφελίᾳ ὁ ἔρως τῷ ἐρῶντι καὶ τῷ ἐρωμένῳ ἐκ θεῶν ἐπιπέμπεται. ἡμῖν δὲ ἀποδεικτέον αὖ τοὐναντίον͵ ὡς ἐπ΄ εὐτυχίᾳ τῇ μεγίστῃ ^245.c παρὰ θεῶν ἡ τοιαύτη μανία δίδοται· ἡ δὲ δὴ ἀπόδειξις ἔσται δεινοῖς μὲν ἄπιστος͵ σοφοῖς δὲ πιστή. δεῖ οὖν πρῶτον ψυχῆς φύσεως πέρι θείας τε καὶ ἀνθρωπίνης ἰδόντα πάθη τε καὶ ἔργα τἀληθὲς νοῆσαι·

The beginning of our proof is as follows: --

ἀρχὴ δὲ ἀποδείξεως ἥδε.

The soul through all her being is immortal, for that which is ever in motion is immortal; but that which moves another and is moved by another, in ceasing to move ceases also to live. Only the self-moving, never leaving self, never ceases to move, and ^[245d] is the fountain and beginning of motion to all that moves besides. Now, the beginning is unbegotten, for that which is begotten has a beginning; but the beginning is begotten of nothing, for if it were begotten of something, then the begotten would not come from a beginning. But if unbegotten, it must also be indestructible; for if beginning were destroyed, there could be no beginning out of anything, nor anything out of a beginning; and all things must have a beginning.

Ψυχὴ πᾶσα ἀθάνατος. τὸ γὰρ ἀεικίνητον ἀθάνατον· τὸ δ΄ ἄλλο κινοῦν καὶ ὑπ΄ ἄλλου κινούμενον͵ παῦλαν ἔχον κινήσεως͵ παῦλαν ἔχει ζωῆς. μόνον δὴ τὸ αὑτὸ κινοῦν͵ ἅτε οὐκ ἀπολεῖπον ἑαυτό͵ οὔποτε λήγει κινούμενον͵ ἀλλὰ καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις ὅσα κινεῖται τοῦτο πηγὴ καὶ ἀρχὴ κινήσεως. ^245.d ἀρχὴ δὲ ἀγένητον. ἐξ ἀρχῆς γὰρ ἀνάγκη πᾶν τὸ γιγνόμενον γίγνεσθαι͵ αὐτὴν δὲ μηδ΄ ἐξ ἑνός· εἰ γὰρ ἔκ του ἀρχὴ γίγνοιτο͵ οὐκ ἂν ἔτι ἀρχὴ γίγνοιτο. ἐπειδὴ δὲ ἀγένητόν ἐστιν͵ καὶ ἀδιάφθορον αὐτὸ ἀνάγκη εἶναι. ἀρχῆς γὰρ δὴ ἀπολομένης οὔτε αὐτή ποτε ἔκ του οὔτε ἄλλο ἐξ ἐκείνης γενήσεται͵ εἴπερ ἐξ ἀρχῆς δεῖ τὰ πάντα γίγνεσθαι.

And therefore the self-moving is the beginning of motion; and this can neither be destroyed nor begotten, ^[245e] else the whole heavens and all creation would collapse and stand still, and never again have motion or birth. But if the self-moving is proved to be immortal, he who affirms that self-motion is the very idea and essence of the soul will not be put to confusion. For the body which is moved from without is soulless; but that which is moved from within has a soul, for such is the nature of the soul. But if this be true, ^[246a] must not the soul be the self-moving, and therefore of necessity unbegotten and immortal? Enough of the soul’s immortality.

οὕτω δὴ κινήσεως μὲν ἀρχὴ τὸ αὐτὸ αὑτὸ κινοῦν. τοῦτο δὲ οὔτ΄ ἀπόλλυσθαι οὔτε γίγνεσθαι δυνατόν͵ ἢ πάντα τε οὐρανὸν ^245.e πᾶσάν τε γῆν εἰς ἓν συμπεσοῦσαν στῆναι καὶ μήποτε αὖθις ἔχειν ὅθεν κινηθέντα γενήσεται. ἀθανάτου δὲ πεφασμένου τοῦ ὑφ΄ ἑαυτοῦ κινουμένου͵ ψυχῆς οὐσίαν τε καὶ λόγον τοῦτον αὐτόν τις λέγων οὐκ αἰσχυνεῖται. πᾶν γὰρ σῶμα͵ ᾧ μὲν ἔξωθεν τὸ κινεῖσθαι͵ ἄψυχον͵ ᾧ δὲ ἔνδοθεν αὐτῷ ἐξ αὑτοῦ͵ ἔμψυχον͵ ὡς ταύτης οὔσης φύσεως ψυχῆς· εἰ δ΄ ἔστιν τοῦτο οὕτως ἔχον͵ μὴ ἄλλο τι εἶναι τὸ αὐτὸ ἑαυτὸ ^246.a κινοῦν ἢ ψυχήν͵ ἐξ ἀνάγκης ἀγένητόν τε καὶ ἀθάνατον ψυχὴ ἂν εἴη.

c

7. The Second Speech of Socrates:
The Myth of Souls. The Chariot Analogy. Recollection

Phaedrus 6 (243e-246a)

Of the nature of the soul, though her true form be ever a theme of large and more than mortal discourse, let me speak briefly, and in a figure.

Περὶ μὲν οὖν ἀθανασίας αὐτῆς ἱκανῶς· περὶ δὲ τῆς ἰδέας αὐτῆς ὧδε λεκτέον. οἷον μέν ἐστι͵ πάντῃ πάντως θείας εἶναι καὶ μακρᾶς διηγήσεως͵ ᾧ δὲ ἔοικεν͵ ἀνθρωπίνης τε καὶ ἐλάττονος· ταύτῃ οὖν λέγωμεν.

And let the figure be composite -- a pair of winged horses and a charioteer. Now the winged horses and the charioteers of the gods are all of them noble and ^[246b] of noble descent, but those of other races are mixed; the human charioteer drives his in a pair;

ἐοικέτω δὴ συμφύτῳ δυνάμει ὑποπτέρου ζεύγους τε καὶ ἡνιόχου. θεῶν μὲν οὖν ἵπποι τε καὶ ἡνίοχοι πάντες αὐτοί τε ἀγαθοὶ καὶ ἐξ ἀγαθῶν͵ ^246.b τὸ δὲ τῶν ἄλλων μέμεικται.

and one of them is noble and of noble breed, and the other is ignoble and of ignoble breed;

καὶ πρῶτον μὲν ἡμῶν ὁ ἄρχων συνωρίδος ἡνιοχεῖ͵ εἶτα τῶν ἵππων ὁ μὲν αὐτῷ καλός τε καὶ ἀγαθὸς καὶ ἐκ τοιούτων͵ ὁ δ΄ ἐξ ἐναντίων τε καὶ ἐναντίος·

and the driving of them of necessity gives a great deal of trouble to him. I will endeavour to explain to you in what way the mortal differs from the immortal creature.

χαλεπὴ δὴ καὶ δύσκολος ἐξ ἀνάγκης ἡ περὶ ἡμᾶς ἡνιόχησις. πῇ δὴ οὖν θνητόν τε καὶ ἀθάνατον ζῷον ἐκλήθη πειρατέον εἰπεῖν.

The soul in her totality has the care of inanimate being everywhere, and traverses the whole heaven in divers forms appearing; --

ψυχὴ πᾶσα παντὸς ἐπιμελεῖται τοῦ ἀψύχου͵ πάντα δὲ οὐρανὸν περιπολεῖ͵ ἄλλοτ΄ ἐν ἄλλοις εἴδεσι γιγνομένη.

when perfect ^[246c] and fully winged she soars upward, and orders the whole world;

τελέα ^246.c μὲν οὖν οὖσα καὶ ἐπτερωμένη μετεωροπορεῖ τε καὶ πάντα τὸν κόσμον διοικεῖ͵

whereas the imperfect soul, losing her wings and drooping in her flight at last settles on the solid ground -- there, finding a home, she receives an earthly frame which appears to be self-moved, but is really moved by her power; and this composition of soul and body is called a living and mortal creature.

ἡ δὲ πτερορρυήσασα φέρεται ἕως ἂν στερεοῦ τινος ἀντιλάβηται͵ οὗ κατοικισθεῖσα͵ σῶμα γήϊνον λαβοῦσα͵ αὐτὸ αὑτὸ δοκοῦν κινεῖν διὰ τὴν ἐκείνης δύναμιν͵ ζῷον τὸ σύμπαν ἐκλήθη͵ ψυχὴ καὶ σῶμα παγέν͵ θνητόν τ΄ ἔσχεν ἐπωνυμίαν·

For immortal no such union can be reasonably believed to be; although fancy, not having seen ^[246d] nor surely known the nature of God, may imagine an immortal creature having both a body and also a soul which are united throughout all time. Let that, however, be as God wills, and be spoken of acceptably to him. And now let us ask the reason why the soul loses her wings!

ἀθάνατον δὲ οὐδ΄ ἐξ ἑνὸς λόγου λελογι σμένου͵ ἀλλὰ πλάττομεν οὔτε ἰδόντες οὔτε ἱκανῶς νοήσαντες ^246.d θεόν͵ ἀθάνατόν τι ζῷον͵ ἔχον μὲν ψυχήν͵ ἔχον δὲ σῶμα͵ τὸν ἀεὶ δὲ χρόνον ταῦτα συμπεφυκότα. ἀλλὰ ταῦτα μὲν δή͵ ὅπῃ τῷ θεῷ φίλον͵ ταύτῃ ἐχέτω τε καὶ λεγέσθω· τὴν δὲ αἰτίαν τῆς τῶν πτερῶν ἀποβολῆς͵ δι΄ ἣν ψυχῆς ἀπορρεῖ͵ λάβωμεν. ἔστι δέ τις τοιάδε.

The wing is the corporeal element which is most akin to the divine, and which by nature tends to soar aloft and carry that which gravitates downwards into the upper region, which is the habitation of the gods. ^[246e] The divine is beauty, wisdom, goodness, and the like; and by these the wing of the soul is nourished, and grows apace; but when fed upon evil and foulness and the opposite of good, wastes and falls away.

Πέφυκεν ἡ πτεροῦ δύναμις τὸ ἐμβριθὲς ἄγειν ἄνω μετε ωρίζουσα ᾗ τὸ τῶν θεῶν γένος οἰκεῖ͵ κεκοινώνηκε δέ πῃ μάλιστα τῶν περὶ τὸ σῶμα τοῦ θείου [ψυχή]͵ τὸ δὲ θεῖον ^246.e καλόν͵ σοφόν͵ ἀγαθόν͵ καὶ πᾶν ὅτι τοιοῦτον· τούτοις δὴ τρέφεταί τε καὶ αὔξεται μάλιστά γε τὸ τῆς ψυχῆς πτέρωμα͵ αἰσχρῷ δὲ καὶ κακῷ καὶ τοῖς ἐναντίοις φθίνει τε καὶ διόλλυται.

Zeus, the mighty lord, holding the reins of a winged chariot, leads the way in heaven, ordering all and taking care of all; ^[247a] and there follows him the array of gods and demi-gods, marshalled in eleven bands; Hestia alone abides at home in the house of heaven; of the rest they who are reckoned among the princely twelve march in their appointed order. They see many blessed sights in the inner heaven, and there are many ways to and fro, along which the blessed gods are passing, every one doing his own work; he may follow who will and can, for jealousy has no place in the celestial choir.

ὁ μὲν δὴ μέγας ἡγεμὼν ἐν οὐρανῷ Ζεύς͵ ἐλαύνων πτηνὸν ἅρμα͵ πρῶτος πορεύεται͵ διακοσμῶν πάντα καὶ ἐπι μελούμενος· τῷ δ΄ ἕπεται στρατιὰ θεῶν τε καὶ δαιμόνων͵ ^247.a κατὰ ἕνδεκα μέρη κεκοσμημένη. μένει γὰρ Ἑστία ἐν θεῶν οἴκῳ μόνη· τῶν δὲ ἄλλων ὅσοι ἐν τῷ τῶν δώδεκα ἀριθμῷ τεταγμένοι θεοὶ ἄρχοντες ἡγοῦνται κατὰ τάξιν ἣν ἕκαστος ἐτάχθη. πολλαὶ μὲν οὖν καὶ μακάριαι θέαι τε καὶ διέξοδοι ἐντὸς οὐρανοῦ͵ ἃς θεῶν γένος εὐδαιμόνων ἐπιστρέφεται πράττων ἕκαστος αὐτῶν τὸ αὑτοῦ͵ ἕπεται δὲ ὁ ἀεὶ ἐθέλων τε καὶ δυνάμενος· φθόνος γὰρ ἔξω θείου χοροῦ ἵσταται.

But when they go to banquet and festival, ^[247b] then they move up the steep to the top of the vault of heaven. The chariots of the gods in even poise, obeying the rein, glide rapidly; but the others labour, for the vicious steed goes heavily, weighing down the charioteer to the earth when his steed has not been thoroughly trained: -- and this is the hour of agony and extremest conflict for the soul. For the immortals, when they are at the end of their course, ^[247c] go forth and stand upon the outside of heaven, and the revolution of the spheres carries them round, and they behold the things beyond.

ὅταν δὲ δὴ πρὸς δαῖτα καὶ ἐπὶ θοίνην ἴωσιν͵ ἄκραν ἐπὶ τὴν ^247.b ὑπουράνιον ἁψῖδα πορεύονται πρὸς ἄναντες͵ ᾗ δὴ τὰ μὲν θεῶν ὀχήματα ἰσορρόπως εὐήνια ὄντα ῥᾳδίως πορεύεται͵ τὰ δὲ ἄλλα μόγις· βρίθει γὰρ ὁ τῆς κάκης ἵππος μετέχων͵ ἐπὶ τὴν γῆν ῥέπων τε καὶ βαρύνων ᾧ μὴ καλῶς ἦν τεθραμμένος τῶν ἡνιόχων. ἔνθα δὴ πόνος τε καὶ ἀγὼν ἔσχατος ψυχῇ πρόκειται. αἱ μὲν γὰρ ἀθάνατοι καλούμεναι͵ ἡνίκ΄ ἂν πρὸς ἄκρῳ γένωνται͵ ἔξω πορευθεῖσαι ἔστησαν ἐπὶ τῷ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ ^247.c νώτῳ͵ στάσας δὲ αὐτὰς περιάγει ἡ περιφορά͵ αἱ δὲ θεωροῦσι τὰ ἔξω τοῦ οὐρανοῦ.

But of the heaven which is above the heavens, what earthly poet ever did or ever will sing worthily? It is such as I will describe; for I must dare to speak the truth, when truth is my theme. There abides the very being with which true knowledge is concerned; the colourless, formless, intangible essence, ^[247d] visible only to mind [nous], the pilot of the soul.

Τὸν δὲ ὑπερουράνιον τόπον οὔτε τις ὕμνησέ πω τῶν τῇδε ποιητὴς οὔτε ποτὲ ὑμνήσει κατ΄ ἀξίαν. ἔχει δὲ ὧδετολμη τέον γὰρ οὖν τό γε ἀληθὲς εἰπεῖν͵ ἄλλως τε καὶ περὶ ἀλη θείας λέγονταἡ γὰρ ἀχρώματός τε καὶ ἀσχημάτιστος καὶ ἀναφὴς οὐσία ὄντως οὖσα͵ ψυχῆς κυβερνήτῃ μόνῳ θεατὴ νῷ͵ περὶ ἣν τὸ τῆς ἀληθοῦς ἐπιστήμης γένος͵ τοῦτον ἔχει ^247.d τὸν τόπον.

The divine intelligence, being nurtured upon mind and pure knowledge, and the intelligence of every soul which is capable of receiving the food proper to it, rejoices at beholding reality, and once more gazing upon truth, is replenished and made glad, until the revolution of the worlds brings her round again to the same place.

ἅτ΄ οὖν θεοῦ διάνοια νῷ τε καὶ ἐπιστήμῃ ἀκη ράτῳ τρεφομένη͵ καὶ ἁπάσης ψυχῆς ὅσῃ ἂν μέλῃ τὸ προσῆκον δέξασθαι͵ ἰδοῦσα διὰ χρόνου τὸ ὂν ἀγαπᾷ τε καὶ θεωροῦσα τἀληθῆ τρέφεται καὶ εὐπαθεῖ͵ ἕως ἂν κύκλῳ ἡ περιφορὰ εἰς ταὐτὸν περιενέγκῃ.

In the revolution she beholds justice, and temperance, and knowledge absolute, not in the form of generation or of relation, ^[247e] which men call existence, but knowledge absolute in existence absolute;

ἐν δὲ τῇ περιόδῳ καθορᾷ μὲν αὐτὴν δικαιοσύνην͵ καθορᾷ δὲ σωφροσύνην͵ καθορᾷ δὲ ἐπιστήμην͵ οὐχ ᾗ γένεσις πρόσεστιν͵ οὐδ΄ ἥ ἐστίν που ἑτέρα ^247.e ἐν ἑτέρῳ οὖσα ὧν ἡμεῖς νῦν ὄντων καλοῦμεν͵ ἀλλὰ τὴν ἐν τῷ ὅ ἐστιν ὂν ὄντως ἐπιστήμην οὖσαν·

and beholding the other true existences in like manner, and feasting upon them, she passes down into the interior of the heavens and returns home; and there the charioteer putting up his horses at the stall, gives them ambrosia to eat and nectar to drink.

καὶ τἆλλα ὡσαύτως τὰ ὄντα ὄντως θεασαμένη καὶ ἑστιαθεῖσα͵ δῦσα πάλιν εἰς τὸ εἴσω τοῦ οὐρανοῦ͵ οἴκαδε ἦλθεν. ἐλθούσης δὲ αὐτῆς ὁ ἡνίοχος πρὸς τὴν φάτνην τοὺς ἵππους στήσας παρέβαλεν ἀμβροσίαν τε καὶ ἐπ΄ αὐτῇ νέκταρ ἐπότισεν.

Such is the life of the gods; but of other souls, ^[248a] that which follows God best and is likest to him lifts the head of the charioteer into the outer world, and is carried round in the revolution, troubled indeed by the steeds, and with difficulty beholding true being; while another only rises and falls, and sees, and again fails to see by reason of the unruliness of the steeds.

^248.a Καὶ οὗτος μὲν θεῶν βίος· αἱ δὲ ἄλλαι ψυχαί͵ ἡ μὲν ἄριστα θεῷ ἑπομένη καὶ εἰκασμένη ὑπερῆρεν εἰς τὸν ἔξω τόπον τὴν τοῦ ἡνιόχου κεφαλήν͵ καὶ συμπεριηνέχθη τὴν περιφοράν͵ θορυβουμένη ὑπὸ τῶν ἵππων καὶ μόγις καθορῶσα τὰ ὄντα· ἡ δὲ τοτὲ μὲν ἦρεν͵ τοτὲ δ΄ ἔδυ͵ βιαζομένων δὲ τῶν ἵππων τὰ μὲν εἶδεν͵ τὰ δ΄ οὔ.

The rest of the souls are also longing after the upper world and they all follow, but not being strong enough they are carried round below the surface, plunging, ^[248b] treading on one another, each striving to be first;

αἱ δὲ δὴ ἄλλαι γλιχόμεναι μὲν ἅπασαι τοῦ ἄνω ἕπονται͵ ἀδυνατοῦσαι δέ͵ ὑποβρύχιαι συμπεριφέρονται͵ πατοῦσαι ἀλλήλας καὶ ἐπιβάλλουσαι͵ ἑτέρα ^248.b πρὸ τῆς ἑτέρας πειρωμένη γενέσθαι.

and there is confusion and perspiration and the extremity of effort; and many of them are lamed or have their wings broken through the ill-driving of the charioteers; and all of them after a fruitless toil, not having attained to the mysteries of true being, go away,

θόρυβος οὖν καὶ ἅμιλλα καὶ ἱδρὼς ἔσχατος γίγνεται͵ οὗ δὴ κακίᾳ ἡνιόχων πολλαὶ μὲν χωλεύονται͵ πολλαὶ δὲ πολλὰ πτερὰ θραύονται· πᾶσαι δὲ πολὺν ἔχουσαι πόνον ἀτελεῖς τῆς τοῦ ὄντος θέας ἀπέρχονται͵

and feed upon opinion.

καὶ ἀπελθοῦσαι τροφῇ δοξαστῇ χρῶνται.

The reason why the souls exhibit this exceeding eagerness to behold the plain of truth is that pasturage is found there, which is suited to the highest part of the soul; and the wing ^[248c] on which the soul soars is nourished with this.

οὗ δ΄ ἕνεχ΄ ἡ πολλὴ σπουδὴ τὸ ἀληθείας ἰδεῖν πεδίον οὗ ἐστιν͵ ἥ τε δὴ προσήκουσα ψυχῆς τῷ ἀρίστῳ νομὴ ἐκ τοῦ ἐκεῖ ^248.c λειμῶνος τυγχάνει οὖσα͵ ἥ τε τοῦ πτεροῦ φύσις͵ ᾧ ψυχὴ κουφίζεται͵ τούτῳ τρέφεται.

And there is a law of Destiny,

θεσμός τε Ἀδραστείας ὅδε.

that the soul which attains any vision of truth in company with a god is preserved from harm until the next period, and if attaining always is always unharmed. But when she is unable to follow, and fails to behold the truth, and through some ill-hap sinks beneath the double load of forgetfulness and vice, and her wings fall from her and she drops to the ground,

ἥτις ἂν ψυχὴ θεῷ συνοπαδὸς γενομένη κατίδῃ τι τῶν ἀλ θῶν͵ μέχρι τε τῆς ἑτέρας περιόδου εἶναι ἀπήμονα͵ κἂν ἀεὶ τοῦτο δύνηται ποιεῖν͵ ἀεὶ ἀβλαβῆ εἶναι· ὅταν δὲ ἀδυνα τήσασα ἐπισπέσθαι μὴ ἴδῃ͵ καί τινι συντυχίᾳ χρησαμένη λήθης τε καὶ κακίας πλησθεῖσα βαρυνθῇ͵ βαρυνθεῖσα δὲ πτερορρυήσῃ τε καὶ ἐπὶ τὴν γῆν πέσῃ͵

then the law ordains that this soul ^[248d] shall at her first birth pass, not into any other animal, but only into man;

τότε νόμος ταύτην ^248.d μὴ φυτεῦσαι εἰς μηδεμίαν θήρειον φύσιν ἐν τῇ πρώτῃ γενέσει͵

[1] and the soul which has seen most of truth shall come to the birth as a philosopher, or artist, or some musical and loving nature;

ἀλλὰ τὴν μὲν πλεῖστα ἰδοῦσαν εἰς γονὴν ἀνδρὸς γενησομένου φιλοσόφου ἢ φιλοκάλου ἢ μουσικοῦ τινος καὶ ἐρωτικοῦ͵

[2] that which has seen truth in the second degree shall be some righteous king or warrior chief;

τὴν δὲ δευτέραν εἰς βασιλέως ἐννόμου ἢ πολεμικοῦ καὶ ἀρχικοῦ͵

[3] the soul which is of the third class shall be a politician, or economist, or trader;

τρίτην εἰς πολιτικοῦ ἤ τινος οἰκονομικοῦ ἢ χρηματιστικοῦ͵

[4] the fourth shall be lover of gymnastic toils, or a physician;

τετάρτην εἰς φιλοπόνου ἢ γυμναστικοῦ ἢ περὶ σώματος ἴασίν τινος ἐσομένου͵

[5] the fifth ^[248e] shall lead the life of a prophet or hierophant;

πέμπτην μαντικὸν βίον ^248.e ἤ τινα τελεστικὸν ἕξουσαν·

[6] to the sixth the character of poet or some other imitative artist will be assigned;

ἕκτῃ ποιητικὸς ἢ τῶν περὶ μίμησίν τις ἄλλος ἁρμόσει͵

[7] to the seventh the life of an artisan or husbandman;

ἑβδόμῃ δημιουργικὸς ἢ γεωργικός͵

[8] to the eighth that of a sophist or demagogue;

ὀγδόῃ σοφιστικὸς ἢ δημοκοπικός͵

[9] to the ninth that of a tyrant;

ἐνάτῃ τυραννικός.

-- all these are states of probation, in which he who does righteously improves, and he who does unrighteously, deteriorates his lot.

ἐν δὴ τούτοις ἅπασιν ὃς μὲν ἂν δικαίως διαγάγῃ ἀμείνονος μοίρας μεταλαμβάνει͵ ὃς δ΄ ἂν ἀδίκως͵ χείρονος·

Ten thousand years must elapse before the soul of each one can return to the place from whence she came, for she cannot ^[249a] grow her wings in less; only the soul of a philosopher, guileless and true, or the soul of a lover, who is not devoid of philosophy, may acquire wings in the third of the recurring periods of a thousand years; he is distinguished from the ordinary good man who gains wings in three thousand years: --

εἰς μὲν γὰρ τὸ αὐτὸ ὅθεν ἥκει ἡ ψυχὴ ἑκάστη οὐκ ἀφικνεῖται ἐτῶν μυρίων ^249.a οὐ γὰρ πτεροῦται πρὸ τοσούτου χρόνουπλὴν ἡ τοῦ φιλοσο φήσαντος ἀδόλως ἢ παιδεραστήσαντος μετὰ φιλοσοφίας͵

and they who choose this life three times in succession have wings given them, and go away at the end of three thousand years.

αὗται δὲ τρίτῃ περιόδῳ τῇ χιλιετεῖ͵ ἐὰν ἕλωνται τρὶς ἐφεξῆς τὸν βίον τοῦτον͵ οὕτω πτερωθεῖσαι τρισχιλιοστῷ ἔτει ἀπέρ χονται.

But the others receive judgment when they have completed their first life, and after the judgment they go, some of them to the houses of correction which are under the earth, and are punished; ^[249b] others to some place in heaven whither they are lightly borne by justice, and there they live in a manner worthy of the life which they led here when in the form of men.

αἱ δὲ ἄλλαι͵ ὅταν τὸν πρῶτον βίον τελευτήσωσιν͵ κρίσεως ἔτυχον͵ κριθεῖσαι δὲ αἱ μὲν εἰς τὰ ὑπὸ γῆς δικαι ωτήρια ἐλθοῦσαι δίκην ἐκτίνουσιν͵ αἱ δ΄ εἰς τοὐρανοῦ τινα τόπον ὑπὸ τῆς Δίκης κουφισθεῖσαι διάγουσιν ἀξίως οὗ ἐν ^249.b ἀνθρώπου εἴδει ἐβίωσαν βίου.

And at the end of the first thousand years the good souls and also the evil souls both come to draw lots and choose their second life, and they may take any which they please. The soul of a man may pass into the life of a beast, or from the beast return again into the man. But the soul which has never seen the truth will not pass into the human form.

τῷ δὲ χιλιοστῷ ἀμφότεραι ἀφικνούμεναι ἐπὶ κλήρωσίν τε καὶ αἵρεσιν τοῦ δευτέρου βίου αἱροῦνται ὃν ἂν θέλῃ ἑκάστη· ἔνθα καὶ εἰς θηρίου βίον ἀνθρωπίνη ψυχὴ ἀφικνεῖται͵ καὶ ἐκ θηρίου ὅς ποτε ἄνθρωπος ἦν πάλιν εἰς ἄνθρωπον. οὐ γὰρ ἥ γε μήποτε ἰδοῦσα τὴν ἀλήθειαν εἰς τόδε ἥξει τὸ σχῆμα.

For a man must have intelligence of universals, ^[249c] and be able to proceed from the many particulars of sense to one conception of reason; -- this is the recollection of those things which our soul once saw while following God -- when regardless of that which we now call being she raised her head up towards the true being. And therefore the mind of the philosopher alone has wings;

δεῖ γὰρ ἄνθρωπον συνιέναι κατ΄ εἶδος λεγόμενον͵ ἐκ πολλῶν ἰὸν ^249.c αἰσθήσεων εἰς ἓν λογισμῷ συναιρούμενον· τοῦτο δ΄ ἐστὶν ἀνάμνησις ἐκείνων ἅ ποτ΄ εἶδεν ἡμῶν ἡ ψυχὴ συμπορευθεῖσα θεῷ καὶ ὑπεριδοῦσα ἃ νῦν εἶναί φαμεν͵ καὶ ἀνακύψασα εἰς τὸ ὂν ὄντως. διὸ δὴ δικαίως μόνη πτεροῦται ἡ τοῦ φιλοσό φου διάνοια·

and this is just, for he is always, according to the measure of his abilities, clinging in recollection to those things in which God abides, and in beholding which He is what He is. And he who employs aright these memories is ever being initiated into perfect mysteries and alone becomes truly perfect. ^[249d]

πρὸς γὰρ ἐκείνοις ἀεί ἐστιν μνήμῃ κατὰ δύναμιν͵ πρὸς οἷσπερ θεὸς ὢν θεῖός ἐστιν. τοῖς δὲ δὴ τοιούτοις ἀνὴρ ὑπομνήμασιν ὀρθῶς χρώμενος͵ τελέους ἀεὶ τελετὰς τελού μενος͵ τέλεος ὄντως μόνος γίγνεται· ἐξιστάμενος δὲ τῶν ^249.d ἀνθρωπίνων σπουδασμάτων καὶ πρὸς τῷ θείῳ γιγνόμενος͵

But, as he forgets earthly interests and is rapt in the divine, the vulgar deem him mad, and rebuke him; they do not see that he is inspired.

νουθετεῖται μὲν ὑπὸ τῶν πολλῶν ὡς παρακινῶν͵ ἐνθουσιάζων δὲ λέληθεν τοὺς πολλούς.

Thus far I have been speaking of the fourth and last kind of madness, which is imputed to him who, when he sees the beauty of earth, is transported with the recollection of the true beauty; he would like to fly away, but he cannot; he is like a bird fluttering and looking upward and careless of the world below; and he is therefore thought to be mad. ^[249e] And I have shown this of all inspirations to be the noblest and highest and the offspring of the highest to him who has or shares in it, and that he who loves the beautiful is called a lover because he partakes of it.

Ἔστι δὴ οὖν δεῦρο ὁ πᾶς ἥκων λόγος περὶ τῆς τετάρτης μανίαςἣν ὅταν τὸ τῇδέ τις ὁρῶν κάλλος͵ τοῦ ἀληθοῦς ἀναμιμνῃσκόμενος͵ πτερῶταί τε καὶ ἀναπτερούμενος προ θυμούμενος ἀναπτέσθαι͵ ἀδυνατῶν δέ͵ ὄρνιθος δίκην βλέπων ἄνω͵ τῶν κάτω δὲ ἀμελῶν͵ αἰτίαν ἔχει ὡς μανικῶς διακεί ^249.e μενοςὡς ἄρα αὕτη πασῶν τῶν ἐνθουσιάσεων ἀρίστη τε καὶ ἐξ ἀρίστων τῷ τε ἔχοντι καὶ τῷ κοινωνοῦντι αὐτῆς γίγνεται͵ καὶ ὅτι ταύτης μετέχων τῆς μανίας ὁ ἐρῶν τῶν καλῶν ἐραστὴς καλεῖται.

For, as has been already said, every soul of man has in the way of nature beheld true being; this was the condition of her passing ^[250a] into the form of man. But all souls do not easily recall the things of the other world; they may have seen them for a short time only, or they may have been unfortunate in their earthly lot, and, having had their hearts turned to unrighteousness through some corrupting influence, they may have lost the memory of the holy things which once they saw.

καθάπερ γὰρ εἴρηται͵ πᾶσα μὲν ἀνθρώπου ψυχὴ φύσει τεθέαται τὰ ὄντα͵ ἢ οὐκ ἂν ἦλθεν ^250.a εἰς τόδε τὸ ζῷον· ἀναμιμνῄσκεσθαι δὲ ἐκ τῶνδε ἐκεῖνα οὐ ῥᾴδιον ἁπάσῃ͵ οὔτε ὅσαι βραχέως εἶδον τότε τἀκεῖ͵ οὔθ΄ αἳ δεῦρο πεσοῦσαι ἐδυστύχησαν͵ ὥστε ὑπό τινων ὁμιλιῶν ἐπὶ τὸ ἄδικον τραπόμεναι λήθην ὧν τότε εἶδον ἱερῶν ἔχειν.

Few only retain an adequate remembrance of them; and they, when they behold here any image of that other world, are rapt in amazement; but they are ignorant of what this rapture means, because they do not clearly perceive. ^[250b] For there is no light of justice or temperance or any of the higher ideas which are precious to souls in the earthly copies of them: they are seen through a glass dimly; and there are few who, going to the images, behold in them the realities, and these only with difficulty.

ὀλίγαι δὴ λείπονται αἷς τὸ τῆς μνήμης ἱκανῶς πάρεστιν· αὗται δέ͵ ὅταν τι τῶν ἐκεῖ ὁμοίωμα ἴδωσιν͵ ἐκπλήττονται καὶ οὐκέτ΄ ἐν αὑτῶν γίγνονται͵ ὃ δ΄ ἔστι τὸ πάθος ἀγνοοῦσι ^250.b διὰ τὸ μὴ ἱκανῶς διαισθάνεσθαι. δικαιοσύνης μὲν οὖν καὶ σωφροσύνης καὶ ὅσα ἄλλα τίμια ψυχαῖς οὐκ ἔνεστι φέγγος οὐδὲν ἐν τοῖς τῇδε ὁμοιώμασιν͵ ἀλλὰ δι΄ ἀμυδρῶν ὀργάνων μόγις αὐτῶν καὶ ὀλίγοι ἐπὶ τὰς εἰκόνας ἰόντες θεῶνται τὸ τοῦ εἰκασθέντος γένος·

There was a time when with the rest of the happy band they saw beauty shining in brightness, -- we philosophers following in the train of Zeus, others in company with other gods; and then we beheld the beatific vision and were initiated into a mystery which may be truly called ^[250c] most blessed, celebrated by us in our state of innocence, before we had any experience of evils to come, when we were admitted to the sight of apparitions innocent and simple and calm and happy, which we beheld shining in pure light, pure ourselves and not yet enshrined in that living tomb which we carry about, now that we are imprisoned in the body, like an oyster in his shell.

κάλλος δὲ τότ΄ ἦν ἰδεῖν λαμπρόν͵ ὅτε σὺν εὐδαίμονι χορῷ μακαρίαν ὄψιν τε καὶ θέαν͵ ἑπόμενοι μετὰ μὲν Διὸς ἡμεῖς͵ ἄλλοι δὲ μετ΄ ἄλλου θεῶν͵ εἶδόν τε καὶ ἐτελοῦντο τῶν τελετῶν ἣν θέμις λέγειν ^250.c μακαριωτάτην͵ ἣν ὠργιάζομεν ὁλόκληροι μὲν αὐτοὶ ὄντες καὶ ἀπαθεῖς κακῶν ὅσα ἡμᾶς ἐν ὑστέρῳ χρόνῳ ὑπέμενεν͵ ὁλό κληρα δὲ καὶ ἁπλᾶ καὶ ἀτρεμῆ καὶ εὐδαίμονα φάσματα μυούμενοί τε καὶ ἐποπτεύοντες ἐν αὐγῇ καθαρᾷ͵ καθαροὶ ὄντες καὶ ἀσήμαντοι τούτου ὃ νῦν δὴ σῶμα περιφέροντες ὀνομάζομεν͵ ὀστρέου τρόπον δεδεσμευμένοι.

Let me linger over the memory of scenes which have passed away.

Ταῦτα μὲν οὖν μνήμῃ κεχαρίσθω͵ δι΄ ἣν πόθῳ τῶν τότε νῦν μακρότερα εἴρηται·

8. The Second Speech of Socrates:
Beauty and the Effects of Love. The Different Kinds of Lover

then while he gazes on him there is a sort of reaction, and the shudder passes into an unusual heat and perspiration; ^[251b] for, as he receives the effluence of beauty through the eyes, the wing moistens and he warms. And as he warms, the parts out of which the wing grew, and which had been hitherto closed and rigid, and had prevented the wing from shooting forth, are melted, and as nourishment streams upon him, the lower end of the wing begins to swell and grow from the root upwards; and the growth extends under the whole soul -- for once the whole was winged.

ἰδόντα δ΄ αὐτὸν οἷον ἐκ τῆς φρίκης μεταβολή τε ^251.b καὶ ἱδρὼς καὶ θερμότης ἀήθης λαμβάνει· δεξάμενος γὰρ τοῦ κάλλους τὴν ἀπορροὴν διὰ τῶν ὀμμάτων ἐθερμάνθη ᾗ ἡ τοῦ πτεροῦ φύσις ἄρδεται͵ θερμανθέντος δὲ ἐτάκη τὰ περὶ τὴν ἔκφυσιν͵ ἃ πάλαι ὑπὸ σκληρότητος συμμεμυκότα εἶργε μὴ βλαστάνειν͵ ἐπιρρυείσης δὲ τῆς τροφῆς ᾤδησέ τε καὶ ὥρμησε φύεσθαι ἀπὸ τῆς ῥίζης ὁ τοῦ πτεροῦ καυλὸς ὑπὸ πᾶν τὸ τῆς ψυχῆς εἶδος· πᾶσα γὰρ ἦν τὸ πάλαι πτερωτή.

^[252c] “Mortals call him fluttering love,

Ἔρωτα καλοῦσι ποτηνόν͵

But the immortals call him winged one,

ἀθάνατοι δὲ Πτέρωτα͵

Because the growing of wings is a necessity to him.”

διὰ πτεροφύτορ΄ ἀνάγκην.

You may believe this, but not unless you like. At any rate the loves of lovers and their causes are such as I have described.

^252.c τούτοις δὴ ἔξεστι μὲν πείθεσθαι͵ ἔξεστιν δὲ μή· ὅμως δὲ ἥ γε αἰτία καὶ τὸ πάθος τῶν ἐρώντων τοῦτο ἐκεῖνο τυγχάνει ὄν.

but they do their utmost to create in him the greatest likeness of themselves and ^[253c] of the god whom they honour. Thus fair and blissful to the beloved is the desire of the inspired lover, and the initiation of which I speak into the mysteries of true love, if he be captured by the lover and their purpose is effected. Now the beloved is taken captive in the following manner: --

ἀλλ΄ εἰς ὁμοιότητα ^253.c αὑτοῖς καὶ τῷ θεῷ ὃν ἂν τιμῶσι πᾶσαν πάντως ὅτι μάλιστα πειρώμενοι ἄγειν οὕτω ποιοῦσι. προθυμία μὲν οὖν τῶν ὡς ἀληθῶς ἐρώντων καὶ τελετή͵ ἐάν γε διαπράξωνται ὃ προθυ μοῦνται ᾗ λέγω͵ οὕτω καλή τε καὶ εὐδαιμονικὴ ὑπὸ τοῦ δι΄ ἔρωτα μανέντος φίλου τῷ φιληθέντι γίγνεται͵ ἐὰν αἱρεθῇ· ἁλίσκεται δὲ δὴ ὁ αἱρεθεὶς τοιῷδε τρόπῳ.

9. The Second Speech of Socrates:
The Chariot Analogy Continued. The Control of the Passions. A Concluding Prayer

And now they are at the spot and behold the flashing beauty of the beloved; which when the charioteer sees, his memory is carried to the true beauty, whom he beholds in company with Modesty like an image placed upon a holy pedestal. He sees her, but he is afraid and falls backwards in adoration, and by his fall is compelled to pull back the reins ^[254c] with such violence as to bring both the steeds on their haunches, the one willing and unresisting, the unruly one very unwilling; and when they have gone back a little, the one is overcome with shame and wonder, and his whole soul is bathed in perspiration;

  καὶ πρὸς αὐτῷ τ΄ ἐγένοντο καὶ εἶδον τὴν ὄψιν τὴν τῶν παιδικῶν ἀστράπτουσαν. ἰδόντος δὲ τοῦ ἡνιόχου ἡ μνήμη πρὸς τὴν τοῦ κάλλους φύσιν ἠνέχθη͵ καὶ πάλιν εἶδεν αὐτὴν μετὰ σωφροσύνης ἐν ἁγνῷ βάθρῳ βεβῶσαν· ἰδοῦσα δὲ ἔδεισέ τε καὶ σεφθεῖσα ἀνέπεσεν ὑπτία͵ καὶ ἅμα ἠναγκάσθη εἰς ^254.c τοὐπίσω ἑλκύσαι τὰς ἡνίας οὕτω σφόδρα͵ ὥστ΄ ἐπὶ τὰ ἰσχία ἄμφω καθίσαι τὼ ἵππω͵ τὸν μὲν ἑκόντα διὰ τὸ μὴ ἀντιτείνειν͵ τὸν δὲ ὑβριστὴν μάλ΄ ἄκοντα. ἀπελθόντε δὲ ἀπωτέρω͵ ὁ μὲν ὑπ΄ αἰσχύνης τε καὶ θάμβους ἱδρῶτι πᾶσαν ἔβρεξε τὴν ψυχήν͵

And from that time forward the soul of the lover follows the beloved in modesty and holy fear.

καὶ ὅταν ἴδῃ τὸν καλόν͵ φόβῳ διόλλυται·

^[255a] And so the beloved who, like a god, has received every true and loyal service from his lover,

ὥστε συμβαίνει τότ΄ ἤδη τὴν τοῦ ἐραστοῦ ψυχὴν τοῖς παιδικοῖς αἰδουμένην τε καὶ δεδιυῖαν ^255.a ἕπεσθαι.

Beauty gives the soul wings ^255c

cf  Evagrius, KG 2.4

which he calls and believes to be not love but friendship only, and his desire is as the desire of the other, but weaker; he wants to see him, touch him, kiss him, embrace him, and probably not long afterwards his desire is accomplished. When they meet, the wanton steed of the lover has a word to say to the charioteer; he would like to have a little pleasure in return for many pains, ^[256a] but the wanton steed of the beloved says not a word, for he is bursting with passion which he understands not; -- he throws his arms round the lover and embraces him as his dearest friend; and, when they are side by side, he is not in a state in which he can refuse the lover anything, if he ask him; although his fellow-steed and the charioteer oppose him with the arguments of shame and reason. After this their happiness depends upon their self-control; if the better elements of the mind which lead to order and philosophy prevail, ^[256b] then they pass their life here in happiness and harmony -- masters of themselves and orderly -- enslaving the vicious and emancipating the virtuous elements of the soul; and when the end comes, they are light and winged for flight, having conquered in one of the three heavenly or truly Olympian victories; nor can human discipline or divine inspiration confer any greater blessing on man than this. If, on the other hand, they leave philosophy and lead the lower life of ambition, then probably, ^[256c] after wine or in some other careless hour, the two wanton animals take the two souls when off their guard and bring them together, and they accomplish that desire of their hearts which to the many is bliss; and this having once enjoyed they continue to enjoy, yet rarely because they have not the approval of the whole soul. They too are dear, but not so dear to one another as the others, ^[256d] either at the time of their love or afterwards. They consider that they have given and taken from each other the most sacred pledges, and they may not break them and fall into enmity. At last they pass out of the body, unwinged, but eager to soar, and thus obtain no mean reward of love and madness. For those who have once begun the heavenward pilgrimage may not go down again to darkness and the journey beneath the earth, but they live in light always; happy companions in their pilgrimage, and when the time comes at which they receive their wings they have the same plumage because of their love.

καλεῖ δὲ αὐτὸν καὶ οἴεται οὐκ ἔρωτα ἀλλὰ φιλίαν εἶναι. ἐπιθυμεῖ δὲ ἐκείνῳ παραπλησίως μέν͵ ἀσθενεστέρως δέ͵ ὁρᾶν͵ ἅπτεσθαι͵ φιλεῖν͵ συγκατακεῖσθαι· καὶ δή͵ οἷον εἰκός͵ ποιεῖ τὸ μετὰ τοῦτο ταχὺ ταῦτα. ἐν οὖν τῇ συγκοιμήσει τοῦ μὲν ἐραστοῦ ὁ ἀκόλαστος ἵππος ἔχει ὅτι λέγῃ πρὸς τὸν ἡνίοχον͵ καὶ ἀξιοῖ ἀντὶ πολλῶν πόνων ^256.a σμικρὰ ἀπολαῦσαι· ὁ δὲ τῶν παιδικῶν ἔχει μὲν οὐδὲν εἰπεῖν͵ σπαργῶν δὲ καὶ ἀπορῶν περιβάλλει τὸν ἐραστὴν καὶ φιλεῖ͵ ὡς σφόδρ΄ εὔνουν ἀσπαζόμενος͵ ὅταν τε συγκατακέωνται͵ οἷός ἐστι μὴ ἂν ἀπαρνηθῆναι τὸ αὑτοῦ μέρος χαρίσασθαι τῷ ἐρῶντι͵ εἰ δεηθείη τυχεῖν· ὁ δὲ ὁμόζυξ αὖ μετὰ τοῦ ἡνιόχου πρὸς ταῦτα μετ΄ αἰδοῦς καὶ λόγου ἀντιτείνει. ἐὰν μὲν δὴ οὖν εἰς τεταγμένην τε δίαιταν καὶ φιλοσοφίαν νικήσῃ τὰ βελτίω τῆς διανοίας ἀγαγόντα͵ μακάριον μὲν ^256.b καὶ ὁμονοητικὸν τὸν ἐνθάδε βίον διάγουσιν͵ ἐγκρατεῖς αὑτῶν καὶ κόσμιοι ὄντες͵ δουλωσάμενοι μὲν ᾧ κακία ψυχῆς ἐνε γίγνετο͵ ἐλευθερώσαντες δὲ ᾧ ἀρετή· τελευτήσαντες δὲ δὴ ὑπόπτεροι καὶ ἐλαφροὶ γεγονότες τῶν τριῶν παλαισμάτων τῶν ὡς ἀληθῶς Ὀλυμπιακῶν ἓν νενικήκασιν͵ οὗ μεῖζον ἀγαθὸν οὔτε σωφροσύνη ἀνθρωπίνη οὔτε θεία μανία δυνατὴ πορίσαι ἀνθρώπῳ. ἐὰν δὲ δὴ διαίτῃ φορτικωτέρᾳ τε καὶ ^256.c ἀφιλοσόφῳ͵ φιλοτίμῳ δὲ χρήσωνται͵ τάχ΄ ἄν που ἐν μέθαις ἤ τινι ἄλλῃ ἀμελείᾳ τὼ ἀκολάστω αὐτοῖν ὑποζυγίω λαβόντε τὰς ψυχὰς ἀφρούρους͵ συναγαγόντε εἰς ταὐτόν͵ τὴν ὑπὸ τῶν πολλῶν μακαριστὴν αἵρεσιν εἱλέσθην τε καὶ διεπρα ξάσθην· καὶ διαπραξαμένω τὸ λοιπὸν ἤδη χρῶνται μὲν αὐτῇ͵ σπανίᾳ δέ͵ ἅτε οὐ πάσῃ δεδογμένα τῇ διανοίᾳ πράτ τοντες. φίλω μὲν οὖν καὶ τούτω͵ ἧττον δὲ ἐκείνων͵ ἀλλή ^256.d λοιν διά τε τοῦ ἔρωτος καὶ ἔξω γενομένω διάγουσι͵ πίστεις τὰς μεγίστας ἡγουμένω ἀλλήλοιν δεδωκέναι τε καὶ δεδέχθαι͵ ἃς οὐ θεμιτὸν εἶναι λύσαντας εἰς ἔχθραν ποτὲ ἐλθεῖν. ἐν δὲ τῇ τελευτῇ ἄπτεροι μέν͵ ὡρμηκότες δὲ πτεροῦσθαι ἐκβαί νουσι τοῦ σώματος͵ ὥστε οὐ σμικρὸν ἆθλον τῆς ἐρωτικῆς μανίας φέρονται· εἰς γὰρ σκότον καὶ τὴν ὑπὸ γῆς πορείαν οὐ νόμος ἐστὶν ἔτι ἐλθεῖν τοῖς κατηργμένοις ἤδη τῆς ὑπου ρανίου πορείας͵ ἀλλὰ φανὸν βίον διάγοντας εὐδαιμονεῖν ^256.e μετ΄ ἀλλήλων πορευομένους͵ καὶ ὁμοπτέρους ἔρωτος χάριν͵ ὅταν γένωνται͵ γενέσθαι.

^[256e]

Thus great are the heavenly blessings which the friendship of a lover will confer upon you, my youth. Whereas the attachment of the non-lover, which is alloyed with a worldly prudence and has worldly and niggardly ways of doling out benefits, will breed in your soul those vulgar qualities which the populace applaud, will send you ^[257a] bowling round the earth during a period of nine thousand years, and leave you a fool in the world below.

Ταῦτα τοσαῦτα͵ ὦ παῖ͵ καὶ θεῖα οὕτω σοι δωρήσεται ἡ παρ΄ ἐραστοῦ φιλία· ἡ δὲ ἀπὸ τοῦ μὴ ἐρῶντος οἰκειότης͵ σωφροσύνῃ θνητῇ κεκραμένη͵ θνητά τε καὶ φειδωλὰ οἰκονο μοῦσα͵ ἀνελευθερίαν ὑπὸ πλήθους ἐπαινουμένην ὡς ἀρετὴν ^257.a τῇ φίλῃ ψυχῇ ἐντεκοῦσα͵ ἐννέα χιλιάδας ἐτῶν περὶ γῆν κυλινδουμένην αὐτὴν καὶ ὑπὸ γῆς ἄνουν παρέξει.

And thus, dear Eros, I have made and paid my recantation, as well and as fairly as I could; more especially in the matter of the poetical figures which I was compelled to use, because Phaedrus would have them. And now forgive the past and accept the present, and be gracious and merciful to me, and do not in thine anger deprive me of sight, or take from me the art of love which thou hast given me, but grant that I may be yet more esteemed in the eyes of the fair. ^[257b] And if Phaedrus or I myself said anything rude in our first speeches, blame Lysias, who is the father of the brat, and let us have no more of his progeny; bid him study philosophy, like his brother Polemarchus; and then his lover Phaedrus will no longer halt between two opinions, but will dedicate himself wholly to love and to philosophical discourses.

Αὕτη σοι͵ ὦ φίλε Ἔρως͵ εἰς ἡμετέραν δύναμιν ὅτι καλ λίστη καὶ ἀρίστη δέδοταί τε καὶ ἐκτέτεισται παλινῳδία͵ τά τε ἄλλα καὶ τοῖς ὀνόμασιν ἠναγκασμένη ποιητικοῖς τισιν διὰ Φαῖδρον εἰρῆσθαι. ἀλλὰ τῶν προτέρων τε συγγνώμην καὶ τῶνδε χάριν ἔχων͵ εὐμενὴς καὶ ἵλεως τὴν ἐρωτικήν μοι τέχνην ἣν ἔδωκας μήτε ἀφέλῃ μήτε πηρώσῃς δι΄ ὀργήν͵ δίδου τ΄ ἔτι μᾶλλον ἢ νῦν παρὰ τοῖς καλοῖς τίμιον εἶναι. ^257.b ἐν τῷ πρόσθεν δ΄ εἴ τι λόγῳ σοι ἀπηχὲς εἴπομεν Φαῖδρός τε καὶ ἐγώ͵ Λυσίαν τὸν τοῦ λόγου πατέρα αἰτιώμενος παῦε τῶν τοιούτων λόγων͵ ἐπὶ φιλοσοφίαν δέ͵ ὥσπερ ἁδελφὸς αὐτοῦ Πολέμαρχος τέτραπται͵ τρέψον͵ ἵνα καὶ ὁ ἐραστὴς ὅδε αὐτοῦ μηκέτι ἐπαμφοτερίζῃ καθάπερ νῦν͵ ἀλλ΄ ἁπλῶς πρὸς Ἔρωτα μετὰ φιλοσόφων λόγων τὸν βίον ποιῆται.

c

The Art of Rhetoric

Phaedrus 6 (269a-272c)

^[269a]

  ^269.a

Socrates
So Sophocles would say that the man exhibited the preliminaries of tragedy, not tragedy itself, and Acumenus that he knew the preliminaries of medicine, not medicine itself.

ΣΩ. Οὐκοῦν καὶ ὁ Σοφοκλῆς τόν σφισιν ἐπιδεικνύμενον τὰ πρὸ τραγῳδίας ἂν φαίη ἀλλ΄ οὐ τὰ τραγικά͵ καὶ ὁ Ἀκου μενὸς τὰ πρὸ ἰατρικῆς ἀλλ΄ οὐ τὰ ἰατρικά.

Phaedrus
Exactly so.

ΦΑΙ. Παντάπασι μὲν οὖν.

Socrates
Well then, if the mellifluous Adrastus or Pericles heard of the excellent accomplishments which we just enumerated, brachylogies and figurative speech and all the other things we said we must bring to the light and examine,

ΣΩ. Τί δὲ τὸν μελίγηρυν Ἄδραστον οἰόμεθα ἢ καὶ Περικλέα͵ εἰ ἀκούσειαν ὧν νυνδὴ ἡμεῖς διῇμεν τῶν παγκάλων τεχνημάτωνβραχυλογιῶν τε καὶ εἰκονολογιῶν καὶ ὅσα ἄλλα διελθόντες ὑπ΄ αὐγὰς ἔφαμεν εἶναι σκεπτέαπότερον

^[269b] do we suppose they would, like you and me, be so ill-bred as to speak discourteously of those who have written and taught these things as the art of rhetoric? Would they not, since they are wiser than we, censure us also and say, “Phaedrus and Socrates, we ought not to be angry, but lenient, if certain persons who are ignorant of dialectics have been unable to define the nature of rhetoric and on this account have thought, when they possessed the knowledge that is a necessary preliminary to rhetoric, that ^[269c] they had discovered rhetoric, and believe that by teaching these preliminaries to others they have taught them rhetoric completely, and that the persuasive use of these details and the composition of the whole discourse is a small matter which their pupils must supply of themselves in their writings or speeches.”

^269.b χαλεπῶς ἂν αὐτούς͵ ὥσπερ ἐγώ τε καὶ σύ͵ ὑπ΄ ἀγροικίας ῥῆμά τι εἰπεῖν ἀπαίδευτον εἰς τοὺς ταῦτα γεγραφότας τε καὶ διδάσκοντας ὡς ῥητορικὴν τέχνην͵ ἢ ἅτε ἡμῶν ὄντας σοφω τέρους κἂν νῷν ἐπιπλῆξαι εἰπόντας· Ὦ Φαῖδρέ τε καὶ Σώκρατες͵ οὐ χρὴ χαλεπαίνειν ἀλλὰ συγγιγνώσκειν͵ εἴ τινες μὴ ἐπιστάμενοι διαλέγεσθαι ἀδύνατοι ἐγένοντο ὁρίσασθαι τί ποτ΄ ἔστιν ῥητορική͵ ἐκ δὲ τούτου τοῦ πάθους τὰ πρὸ τῆς τέχνης ἀναγκαῖα μαθήματα ἔχοντες ῥητορικὴν ᾠήθησαν 269.c ηὑρηκέναι͵ καὶ ταῦτα δὴ διδάσκοντες ἄλλους ἡγοῦνταί σφισιν τελέως ῥητορικὴν δεδιδάχθαι͵ τὸ δὲ ἕκαστα τούτων πιθανῶς λέγειν τε καὶ τὸ ὅλον συνίστασθαι͵ οὐδὲν ἔργον ὄν͵ αὐτοὺς δεῖν παρ΄ ἑαυτῶν τοὺς μαθητάς σφων πορίζεσθαι ἐν τοῖς λόγοις.

NATURE / KNOWLEDGE / PRACTICE

Phaedrus
Well, Socrates, it does seem as if that which those men teach and write about as the art of rhetoric were such as you describe. I think ^[269d] you are right. But how and from whom is the truly rhetorical and persuasive art to be acquired?

ΦΑΙ. Ἀλλὰ μήν͵ ὦ Σώκρατες͵ κινδυνεύει γε τοιοῦτόν τι εἶναι τὸ τῆς τέχνης ἣν οὗτοι οἱ ἄνδρες ὡς ῥητορικὴν διδάσκουσίν τε καὶ γράφουσιν͵ καὶ ἔμοιγε δοκεῖς ἀληθῆ εἰρη κέναι· ἀλλὰ δὴ τὴν τοῦ τῷ ὄντι ῥητορικοῦ τε καὶ πιθανοῦ 269.d τέχνην πῶς καὶ πόθεν ἄν τις δύναιτο πορίσασθαι;

Socrates
Whether one can acquire it, so as to become a perfect orator, Phaedrus, is probably, and perhaps must be, dependent on conditions, like everything else.

ΣΩ. Τὸ μὲν δύνασθαι͵ ὦ Φαῖδρε͵ ὥστε ἀγωνιστὴν τέλεον γενέσθαι͵ εἰκόςἴσως δὲ καὶ ἀναγκαῖονἔχειν ὥσπερ τἆλλα·

If you are naturally rhetorical, you will become a notable orator,

εἰ μέν σοι ὑπάρχει φύσει ῥητορικῷ εἶναι͵ ἔσῃ ῥήτωρ ἐλλό γιμος͵

when to your natural endowments you have added knowledge

προσλαβὼν ἐπιστήμην τε

and practice;

καὶ μελέτην͵

at whatever point you are deficient in these, you will be incomplete. But so far as the art is concerned, I do not think the quest of it lies along the path of Lysias and Thrasymachus.

ὅτου δ΄ ἂν ἐλλείπῃς τούτων͵ ταύτῃ ἀτελὴς ἔσῃ. ὅσον δὲ αὐτοῦ τέχνη͵ οὐχ ᾗ Λυσίας τε καὶ Θρασύμαχος πορεύεται δοκεῖ μοι φαίνεσθαι ἡ μέθοδος.

^[269e]Phaedrus
Where then?

ΦΑΙ. Ἀλλὰ πῇ δή; 269.e

Socrates
I suppose, my friend, Pericles is the most perfect orator in existence.

ΣΩ. Κινδυνεύει͵ ὦ ἄριστε͵ εἰκότως ὁ Περικλῆς πάντων τελεώτατος εἰς τὴν ῥητορικὴν γενέσθαι.

Phaedrus
Well?

ΦΑΙ. Τί δή;

Socrates
All great arts demand discussion and high speculation about nature; for this loftiness of mind and ^[270a] effectiveness in all directions seem somehow to come from such pursuits. This was in Pericles added to his great natural abilities; for it was, I think, his falling in with Anaxagoras, who was just such a man, that filled him with high thoughts and taught him the nature of mind and of lack of mind, subjects about which Anaxagoras used chiefly to discourse, and from these speculations he drew and applied to the art of speaking what is of use to it.

ΣΩ. Πᾶσαι ὅσαι μεγάλαι τῶν τεχνῶν προσδέονται 270.a ἀδολεσχίας καὶ μετεωρολογίας φύσεως πέρι· τὸ γὰρ ὑψη λόνουν τοῦτο καὶ πάντῃ τελεσιουργὸν ἔοικεν ἐντεῦθέν ποθεν εἰσιέναι. ὃ καὶ Περικλῆς πρὸς τῷ εὐφυὴς εἶναι ἐκτήσατο· προσπεσὼν γὰρ οἶμαι τοιούτῳ ὄντι Ἀναξαγόρᾳ͵ μετεωρο λογίας ἐμπλησθεὶς καὶ ἐπὶ φύσιν νοῦ τε καὶ διανοίας ἀφικό μενος͵ ὧν δὴ πέρι τὸν πολὺν λόγον ἐποιεῖτο Ἀναξαγόρας͵ ἐντεῦθεν εἵλκυσεν ἐπὶ τὴν τῶν λόγων τέχνην τὸ πρόσφορον αὐτῇ.

Phaedrus
What do you mean by that?

ΦΑΙ. Πῶς τοῦτο λέγεις; 270.b

^[270b]Socrates
The method of the art of healing is much the same as that of rhetoric.

ΣΩ. Ὁ αὐτός που τρόπος τέχνης ἰατρικῆς ὅσπερ καὶ ῥητορικῆς.

Phaedrus
How so?

ΦΑΙ. Πῶς δή;

Socrates
In both cases you must analyze a nature, in one that of the body and in the other that of the soul, if you are to proceed in a scientific manner, not merely by practice and routine, to impart health and strength to the body by prescribing medicine and diet, or by proper discourses and training to give to the soul the desired belief and virtue.

ΣΩ. Ἐν ἀμφοτέραις δεῖ διελέσθαι φύσιν͵ σώματος μὲν ἐν τῇ ἑτέρᾳ͵ ψυχῆς δὲ ἐν τῇ ἑτέρᾳ͵ εἰ μέλλεις͵ μὴ τριβῇ μόνον καὶ ἐμπειρίᾳ ἀλλὰ τέχνῃ͵ τῷ μὲν φάρμακα καὶ τροφὴν προσφέρων ὑγίειαν καὶ ῥώμην ἐμποιήσειν͵ τῇ δὲ λόγους τε καὶ ἐπιτηδεύσεις νομίμους πειθὼ ἣν ἂν βούλῃ καὶ ἀρετὴν παραδώσειν.

Phaedrus
That, Socrates, is probably true.

ΦΑΙ. Τὸ γοῦν εἰκός͵ ὦ Σώκρατες͵ οὕτως. 270.c

^[270c] Socrates
Now do you think one can acquire any appreciable knowledge of the nature of the soul without knowing the nature of the whole man?

ΣΩ. Ψυχῆς οὖν φύσιν ἀξίως λόγου κατανοῆσαι οἴει δυνατὸν εἶναι ἄνευ τῆς τοῦ ὅλου φύσεως;

Phaedrus
If Hippocrates the Asclepiad is to be trusted, one cannot know the nature of the body, either, except in that way.

ΦΑΙ. Εἰ μὲν Ἱπποκράτει γε τῷ τῶν Ἀσκληπιαδῶν δεῖ τι πιθέσθαι͵ οὐδὲ περὶ σώματος ἄνευ τῆς μεθόδου ταύτης.

Socrates
He is right, my friend; however, we ought not to be content with the authority of Hippocrates, but to see also if our reason agrees with him on examination.

ΣΩ. Καλῶς γάρ͵ ὦ ἑταῖρε͵ λέγει· χρὴ μέντοι πρὸς τῷ Ἱπποκράτει τὸν λόγον ἐξετάζοντα σκοπεῖν εἰ συμφωνεῖ.

Phaedrus
I assent.

ΦΑΙ. Φημί.

Socrates
Then see what^[270d] Hippocrates and true reason say about nature. In considering the nature of anything, must we not consider first, whether that in respect to which we wish to be learned ourselves and to make others learned is simple or multiform, and then, if it is simple, enquire what power of acting it possesses, or of being acted upon, and by what, and if it has many forms, number them, and then see in the case of each form, as we did in the case of the simple nature, what its action is and how it is acted upon and by what?

ΣΩ. Τὸ τοίνυν περὶ φύσεως σκόπει τί ποτε λέγει Ἱππο κράτης τε καὶ ὁ ἀληθὴς λόγος. ἆρ΄ οὐχ ὧδε δεῖ διανοεῖσθαι 270.d περὶ ὁτουοῦν φύσεως· πρῶτον μέν͵ ἁπλοῦν ἢ πολυειδές ἐστιν οὗ πέρι βουλησόμεθα εἶναι αὐτοὶ τεχνικοὶ καὶ ἄλλον δυνατοὶ ποιεῖν͵ ἔπειτα δέ͵ ἂν μὲν ἁπλοῦν ᾖ͵ σκοπεῖν τὴν δύναμιν αὐτοῦ͵ τίνα πρὸς τί πέφυκεν εἰς τὸ δρᾶν ἔχον ἢ τίνα εἰς τὸ παθεῖν ὑπὸ τοῦ͵ ἐὰν δὲ πλείω εἴδη ἔχῃ͵ ταῦτα ἀριθμησάμενον͵ ὅπερ ἐφ΄ ἑνός͵ τοῦτ΄ ἰδεῖν ἐφ΄ ἑκάστου͵ τῷ τί ποιεῖν αὐτὸ πέφυκεν ἢ τῷ τί παθεῖν ὑπὸ τοῦ;

Phaedrus
Very likely, Socrates.

ΦΑΙ. Κινδυνεύει͵ ὦ Σώκρατες.

Socrates
At any rate, any other mode of procedure would be ^[270e] like the progress of a blind man. Yet surely he who pursues any study scientifically ought not to be comparable to a blind or a deaf man, but evidently the man whose rhetorical teaching is a real art will explain accurately the nature of that to which his words are to be addressed, and that is the soul, is it not?

ΣΩ. Ἡ γοῦν ἄνευ τούτων μέθοδος ἐοίκοι ἂν ὥσπερ 270.e τυφλοῦ πορείᾳ. ἀλλ΄ οὐ μὴν ἀπεικαστέον τόν γε τέχνῃ μετιόντα ὁτιοῦν τυφλῷ οὐδὲ κωφῷ͵ ἀλλὰ δῆλον ὡς͵ ἄν τῴ τις τέχνῃ λόγους διδῷ͵ τὴν οὐσίαν δείξει ἀκριβῶς τῆς φύσεως τούτου πρὸς ὃ τοὺς λόγους προσοίσει· ἔσται δέ που ψυχὴ τοῦτο.

Phaedrus
Of course.

ΦΑΙ. Τί μήν; 271.a

^[271a] Socrates
Then this is the goal of all his effort; he tries to produce conviction in the soul. Is not that so?

ΣΩ. Οὐκοῦν ἡ ἅμιλλα αὐτῷ τέταται πρὸς τοῦτο πᾶσα· πειθὼ γὰρ ἐν τούτῳ ποιεῖν ἐπιχειρεῖ. ἦ γάρ;

Phaedrus
Yes.

ΦΑΙ. Ναί.

Socrates
So it is clear that Thrasymachus, or anyone else who seriously teaches the art of rhetoric, will first describe the soul with perfect accuracy and make us see whether it is one and all alike, or, like the body, of multiform aspect; for this is what we call explaining its nature.

ΣΩ. Δῆλον ἄρα ὅτι ὁ Θρασύμαχός τε καὶ ὃς ἂν ἄλλος σπουδῇ τέχνην ῥητορικὴν διδῷ͵ πρῶτον πάσῃ ἀκριβείᾳ γράψει τε καὶ ποιήσει ψυχὴν ἰδεῖν͵ πότερον ἓν καὶ ὅμοιον πέφυκεν ἢ κατὰ σώματος μορφὴν πολυειδές· τοῦτο γάρ φαμεν φύσιν εἶναι δεικνύναι.

Phaedrus
Certainly.

ΦΑΙ. Παντάπασι μὲν οὖν.

Socrates
And secondly he will say what its action is and toward what it is directed, or how it is acted upon and by what.

ΣΩ. Δεύτερον δέ γε͵ ὅτῳ τί ποιεῖν ἢ παθεῖν ὑπὸ τοῦ πέφυκεν.

Phaedrus
To be sure.

ΦΑΙ. Τί μήν; 271.b

^[271b]Socrates
Thirdly, he will classify the speeches and the souls and will adapt each to the other, showing the causes of the effects produced and why one kind of soul is necessarily persuaded by certain classes of speeches, and another is not.

ΣΩ. Τρίτον δὲ δὴ διαταξάμενος τὰ λόγων τε καὶ ψυχῆς γένη καὶ τὰ τούτων παθήματα δίεισι πάσας αἰτίας͵ προσαρ μόττων ἕκαστον ἑκάστῳ καὶ διδάσκων οἵα οὖσα ὑφ΄ οἵων λόγων δι΄ ἣν αἰτίαν ἐξ ἀνάγκης ἡ μὲν πείθεται͵ ἡ δὲ ἀπειθεῖ.

Phaedrus
That would, I think, be excellent.

ΦΑΙ. Κάλλιστα γοῦν ἄν͵ ὡς ἔοικ΄͵ ἔχοι οὕτως.

Socrates
By no other method of exposition or speech will this, or anything else, ever be written ^[271c] or spoken with real art. But those whom you have heard, who write treatises on the art of speech nowadays, are deceivers and conceal the nature of the soul, though they know it very well. Until they write and speak by this method we cannot believe that they write by the rules of art.

ΣΩ. Οὔτοι μὲν οὖν͵ ὦ φίλε͵ ἄλλως ἐνδεικνύμενον ἢ λεγόμενον τέχνῃ ποτὲ λεχθήσεται ἢ γραφήσεται οὔτε τι 271.c ἄλλο οὔτε τοῦτο. ἀλλ΄ οἱ νῦν γράφοντες͵ ὧν σὺ ἀκήκοας͵ τέχνας λόγων πανοῦργοί εἰσιν καὶ ἀποκρύπτονται͵ εἰδότες ψυχῆς πέρι παγκάλως· πρὶν ἂν οὖν τὸν τρόπον τοῦτον λέγωσί τε καὶ γράφωσι͵ μὴ πειθώμεθα αὐτοῖς τέχνῃ γράφειν.

Phaedrus
What is this method?

ΦΑΙ. Τίνα τοῦτον;

Socrates
It is not easy to tell the exact expressions to be used; but I will tell how one must write, if one is to do it, so far as possible, in a truly artistic way.

ΣΩ. Αὐτὰ μὲν τὰ ῥήματα εἰπεῖν οὐκ εὐπετές· ὡς δὲ δεῖ γράφειν͵ εἰ μέλλει τεχνικῶς ἔχειν καθ΄ ὅσον ἐνδέχεται͵ λέγειν ἐθέλω.

Phaedrus
Speak then.

ΦΑΙ. Λέγε δή.

Socrates
Since it is the function of speech ^[271d] to lead souls by persuasion, he who is to be a rhetorician must know the various forms of soul. Now they are so and so many and of such and such kinds, wherefore men also are of different kinds: these we must classify. Then there are also various classes of speeches, to one of which every speech belongs. So men of a certain sort are easily persuaded by speeches of a certain sort for a certain reason to actions or beliefs of a certain sort, and men of another sort cannot be so persuaded. The student of rhetoric must, accordingly, acquire a proper knowledge of these classes and then be able to follow them ^[271e] accurately with his senses when he sees them in the practical affairs of life; otherwise he can never have any profit from the lectures he may have heard. But when he has learned to tell what sort of man is influenced by what sort of speech, and is able, ^[272a] if he comes upon such a man, to recognize him and to convince himself that this is the man and this now actually before him is the nature spoken of in a certain lecture, to which he must now make a practical application of a certain kind of speech in a certain way to persuade his hearer to a certain action or belief—when he has acquired all this, and has added thereto a knowledge of the times for speaking and for keeping silence, and has also distinguished the favorable occasions for brief speech or pitiful speech or intensity and all the classes of speech which he has learned, then, and not till then, will his art be fully and completely ^[272b] finished; and if anyone who omits any of these points in his speaking or writing claims to speak by the rules of art, the one who disbelieves him is the better man. “Now then,” perhaps the writer of our treatise will say, “Phaedrus and Socrates, do you agree to all this? Or must the art of speech be described in some other way?”

ΣΩ. Ἐπειδὴ λόγου δύναμις τυγχάνει ψυχαγωγία οὖσα͵ 271.d τὸν μέλλοντα ῥητορικὸν ἔσεσθαι ἀνάγκη εἰδέναι ψυχὴ ὅσα εἴδη ἔχει. ἔστιν οὖν τόσα καὶ τόσα͵ καὶ τοῖα καὶ τοῖα͵ ὅθεν οἱ μὲν τοιοίδε͵ οἱ δὲ τοιοίδε γίγνονται· τούτων δὲ δὴ οὕτω διῃρημένων͵ λόγων αὖ τόσα καὶ τόσα ἔστιν εἴδη͵ τοιόνδε ἕκαστον. οἱ μὲν οὖν τοιοίδε ὑπὸ τῶν τοιῶνδε λόγων διὰ τήνδε τὴν αἰτίαν ἐς τὰ τοιάδε εὐπειθεῖς͵ οἱ δὲ τοιοίδε διὰ τάδε δυσπειθεῖς· δεῖ δὴ ταῦτα ἱκανῶς νοήσαντα͵ μετὰ ταῦτα θεώμενον αὐτὰ ἐν ταῖς πράξεσιν ὄντα τε καὶ πραττό 271.e μενα͵ ὀξέως τῇ αἰσθήσει δύνασθαι ἐπακολουθεῖν͵ ἢ μηδὲν εἶναί πω πλέον αὐτῷ ὧν τότε ἤκουεν λόγων συνών. ὅταν δὲ εἰπεῖν τε ἱκανῶς ἔχῃ οἷος ὑφ΄ οἵων πείθεται͵ παραγιγνό μενόν τε δυνατὸς ᾖ διαισθανόμενος ἑαυτῷ ἐνδείκνυσθαι ὅτι 272.a οὗτός ἐστι καὶ αὕτη ἡ φύσις περὶ ἧς τότε ἦσαν οἱ λόγοι͵ νῦν ἔργῳ παροῦσά οἱ͵ ᾗ προσοιστέον τούσδε ὧδε τοὺς λόγους ἐπὶ τὴν τῶνδε πειθώ͵ ταῦτα δ΄ ἤδη πάντα ἔχοντι͵ προσλαβόντι καιροὺς τοῦ πότε λεκτέον καὶ ἐπισχετέον͵ βραχυλογίας τε αὖ καὶ ἐλεινολογίας καὶ δεινώσεως ἑκάστων τε ὅσα ἂν εἴδη μάθῃ λόγων͵ τούτων τὴν εὐκαιρίαν τε καὶ ἀκαιρίαν διαγνόντι͵ καλῶς τε καὶ τελέως ἐστὶν ἡ τέχνη ἀπειργασμένη͵ πρότερον δ΄ οὔ· ἀλλ΄ ὅτι ἂν αὐτῶν τις 272.b ἐλλείπῃ λέγων ἢ διδάσκων ἢ γράφων͵ φῇ δὲ τέχνῃ λέγειν͵ ὁ μὴ πειθόμενος κρατεῖ. Τί δὴ οὖν; φήσει ἴσως ὁ συγ γραφεύς͵ ὦ Φαῖδρέ τε καὶ Σώκρατες͵ δοκεῖ οὕτως; μὴ ἄλλως πως ἀποδεκτέον λεγομένης λόγων τέχνης;

Phaedrus
No other way is possible, Socrates. But it seems a great task to attain to it.

ΦΑΙ. Ἀδύνατόν που͵ ὦ Σώκρατες͵ ἄλλως· καίτοι οὐ σμικρόν γε φαίνεται ἔργον.

Socrates
Very true. Therefore you must examine ^[272c] all that has been said from every point of view, to see if no shorter and easier road to the art appears, that one may not take a long and rough road, when there is a short and smooth one. If you have heard from Lysias or anyone else anything that can help us, try to remember it and tell it.

ΣΩ. Ἀληθῆ λέγεις. τούτου τοι ἕνεκα χρὴ πάντας τοὺς λόγους ἄνω καὶ κάτω μεταστρέφοντα ἐπισκοπεῖν εἴ τίς πῃ 272.c ῥᾴων καὶ βραχυτέρα φαίνεται ἐπ΄ αὐτὴν ὁδός͵ ἵνα μὴ μάτην πολλὴν ἀπίῃ καὶ τραχεῖαν͵ ἐξὸν ὀλίγην τε καὶ λείαν. ἀλλ΄ …