“You are always quizzing us,” replied Socrates; “for you have yourself paid a good deal of money for wisdom to Protagoras, Gorgias, Prodicus, and many others, while you see that we are what you might call amateurs in philosophy; and so you feel supercilious toward us.”
[6]
“Yes,” said Callias, “so far, I admit, I have been keeping you ignorant of my ability at profound and lengthy discourse; but now, if you will favour me with your company, I will prove to you that I am a person of some consequence.”
[7]
Now at first Socrates and his companions thanked him for the invitation, as might be expected, but would not promise to attend the banquet; when it became clear, however, that he was taking their refusal very much to heart, they went with him. And so his guests arrived, some having first taken their exercise and their rub-down, others with the addition of a bath.
[8]
Autolycus took a seat by his father’s side; the others, of course, reclined.
A person who took note of the course of events would have come at once to the conclusion that beauty is in its essence something regal, especially when, as in the present case of Autolycus, its possessor joins with it modesty and sobriety.
[9]
For in the first place, just as the sudden glow of a light at night draws all eyes to itself, so now the beauty of Autolycus compelled every one to look at him. And again, there was not one of the onlookers who did not feel his soul strangely stirred by the boy; some of them grew quieter than before, others even assumed some kind of a pose.
[10]
Now it is true that all who are under the influence of any of the gods seem well worth gazing at; but whereas those who are possessed of the other gods have a tendency to be sterner of countenance, more terrifying of voice, and more vehement, those who are inspired by chaste Love have a more tender look, subdue their voices to more gentle tones, and assume a supremely noble bearing. Such was the demeanour of Callias at this time under the influence of Love; and therefore he was an object well worth the gaze of those initiated into the worship of this god.
[11]
The company, then, were feasting in silence, as though some one in authority had commanded them to do so, when Philip the buffoon knocked at the door and told the porter to announce who he was and that he desired to be admitted; he added that with regard to food he had come all prepared, in all varieties — to dine on some other person’s, — and that his servant was in great distress with the load he carried of — nothing, and with having an empty stomach. Hearing this, Callias said,
[12]
“Well, gentlemen, we cannot decently begrudge him at the least the shelter of our roof; so let him come in.” With the words he cast a glance at Autolycus, obviously trying to make out what he had thought of the pleasantry.
[13]
But Philip, standing at the threshold of the men’s hall where the banquet was served, announced:
“You all know that I am a jester; and so I have come here with a will, thinking it more of a joke to come to your dinner uninvited than to come by invitation.” “Well, then,” said Callias, “take a place; for the guests, though well fed, as you observe, on seriousness, are perhaps rather ill supplied with laughter.”
[14]
No sooner were they engaged in their dinner than Philip attempted a witticism, with a view to rendering the service that secured him all his dinner engagements; but on finding that he did not excite any laughter, he showed himself, for the time, considerably vexed. A little later, however, he must try another jest; but when they would not laugh at him this time either, he stopped while the dinner was in full swing, covered his head with his cloak, and lay down on his couch.
[15]
“What does this mean, Philip?” Callias inquired. “Are you seized with a pain?” Philip replied with a groan, “Yes, Callias, by Heaven, with a severe one; for since laughter has perished from the world, my business is ruined. For in times past, the reason why I got invitations to dinner was that I might stir up laughter among the guests and make them merry; but now, what will induce any one to invite me? For I could no more turn serious than I could become immortal; and certainly no one will invite me in the hope of a return invitation, as every one knows that there is not a vestige of tradition of bringing dinner into my house.” As he said this, he wiped his nose, and to judge by the sound, he was evidently weeping.
[16]
All tried to comfort him with the promise that they would laugh next time, and urged him to eat; and Critobulus actually burst out into a guffaw at his lugubrious moaning. The moment Philip heard the laughter he uncovered his head, and exhorting his spirit to be of good courage, in view of approaching engagements, he fell to eating again.
2.
When the tables had been removed and the guests had poured a libation and sung a hymn, there entered a man from Syracuse, to give them an evening’s merriment. He had with him a fine flute-girl, a dancing-girl — one of those skilled in acrobatic tricks, — and a very handsome boy, who was expert at playing the cither and at dancing; the Syracusan made money by exhibiting their performances as a spectacle.
[2]
They now played for the assemblage, the flute-girl on the flute, the boy on the cither; and it was agreed that both furnished capital amusement. Thereupon Socrates remarked: “On my word, Callias, you are giving us a perfect dinner; for not only have you set before us a feast that is above criticism, but you are also offering us very delightful sights and sounds.”
[3]
“Suppose we go further,” said Callias, “and have some one bring us some perfume, so that we may dine in the midst of pleasant odours, also.” “No, indeed!” replied Socrates. “For just as one kind of dress looks well on a woman and another kind on a man, so the odours appropriate to men and to women are diverse. No man, surely, ever uses perfume for a man’s sake. And as for the women, particularly if they chance to be young brides, like the wives of Niceratus here and Critobulus, how can they want any additional perfume? For that is what they are redolent of, themselves. The odour of the olive oil, on the other hand, that is used in the gymnasium is more delightful when you have it on your flesh than perfume is to women, and when you lack it, the want of it is more keenly felt.
[4]
Indeed, so far as perfume is concerned, when once a man has anointed himself with it, the scent forthwith is all one whether he be slave or free; but the odours that result from the exertions of freemen demand primarily noble pursuits engaged in for many years if they are to be sweet and suggestive of freedom.”
“That may do for young fellows,” observed Lycon; “but what of us who no longer exercise in the gymnasia? What should be our distinguishing scent?”
“Nobility of soul, surely!” replied Socrates.
“And where may a person get this ointment?”
“Certainly not from the perfumers,” said Socrates.
“But where, then?”
“Theognis has said:
‘Good men teach good; society with bad
Will but corrupt the good mind that you had.’”
[5]
“Do you hear that, my son?” asked Lycon.
“Yes, indeed he does,” said Socrates; “and he puts it into practice, too. At any rate, when he desired to become a prize-winner in the pancratium, [he availed himself of your help to discover the champions in that sport and associated with them; and so, if he desires to learn the ways of virtue,] he will again with your help seek out the man who seems to him most proficient in this way of life and will associate with him.”
[6]
Thereupon there was a chorus of voices. “Where will he find an instructor in this subject?” said one. Another maintained that it could not be taught at all. A third asserted that this could be learned if anything could.
[7]
“Since this is a debatable matter,” suggested Socrates, “let us reserve it for another time; for the present let us finish what we have on hand. For I see that the dancing girl here is standing ready, and that some one is bringing her some hoops.”
[8]
At that, the other girl began to accompany the dancer on the flute, and a boy at her elbow handed her up the hoops until he had given her twelve. She took these and as she danced kept throwing them whirling into the air, observing the proper height to throw them so as to catch them in a regular rhythm.
[9]
As Socrates looked on he remarked: “This girl’s feat, gentlemen, is only one of many proofs that woman’s nature is really not a whit inferior to man’s, except in its lack of judgment and physical strength. So if any one of you has a wife, let him confidently set about teaching her whatever he would like to have her know.”
[10]
“If that is your view, Socrates,” asked Antisthenes, “how does it come that you don’t practise what you preach by yourself educating Xanthippe, but live with a wife who is the hardest to get along with of all the women there are — yes, or all that ever were, I suspect, or ever will be?”
“Because,” he replied, “I observe that men who wish to become expert horsemen do not get the most docile horses but rather those that are high-mettled, believing that if they can manage this kind, they will easily handle any other. My course is similar. Mankind at large is what I wish to deal and associate with; and so I have got her, well assured that if I can endure her, I shall have no difficulty in my relations with all the rest of human kind.”
These words, in the judgment of the guests, did not go wide of the mark.
[11]
But now there was brought in a hoop set all around with upright swords; over these the dancer turned somersaults into the hoop and out again, to the dismay of the onlookers, who thought that she might suffer some mishap. She, however, went through this performance fearlessly and safely.
[12]
Then Socrates, drawing Antisthenes’ attention, said: “Witnesses of this feat, surely, will never again deny, I feel sure, that courage, like other things, admits of being taught, when this girl, in spite of her sex, leaps so boldly in among the swords!”
[13]
“Well, then,” asked Antisthenes, “had this Syracusan not better exhibit his dancer to the city and announce that if the Athenians will pay him for it he will give all the men of Athens the courage to face the spear?”
[14]
“Well said!” interjected Philip. “I certainly should like to see Peisander the politician learning to turn somersaults among the knives; for, as it is now, his inability to look spears in the face makes him shrink even from joining the army.”
[15]
At this point the boy performed a dance, eliciting from Socrates the remark, “Did you notice that, handsome as the boy is, he appears even handsomer in the poses of the dance than when he is at rest?”
“It looks to me,” said Charmides, “as if you were puffing the dancing-master.”
[16]
“Assuredly,” replied Socrates; “and I remarked something else, too, — that no part of his body was idle during the dance, but neck, legs, and hands were all active together. And that is the way a person must dance who intends to increase the suppleness of his body. And for myself,” he continued, addressing the Syracusan, “I should be delighted to learn the figures from you.”
“What use will you make of them?” the other asked.
“I will dance, by Zeus.”
[17]
This raised a general laugh; but Socrates, with a perfectly grave expression on his face, said: “You are laughing at me, are you? Is it because I want to exercise to better my health? Or because I want to take more pleasure in my food and my sleep? Or is it because I am eager for such exercises as these, not like the long-distance runners, who develop their legs at the expense of their shoulders, nor like the prize-fighters, who develop their shoulders but become thin-legged, but rather with a view to giving my body a symmetrical development by exercising it in every part?
[18]
Or are you laughing because I shall not need to hunt up a partner to exercise with, or to strip, old as I am, in a crowd, but shall find a moderate-sized room large enough for me (just as but now this room was large enough for the lad here to get up a sweat in), and because in winter I shall exercise under cover, and when it is very hot, in the shade?
[19]
Or is this what provokes your laughter, that I have an unduly large paunch and wish to reduce it? Don’t you know that just the other day Charmides here caught me dancing early in the morning?”
“Indeed I did,” said Charmides; “and at first I was dumbfounded and feared that you were going stark mad; but when I heard you say much the same things as you did just now, I myself went home, and although I did not dance, for I had never learned how, I practised shadow-boxing, for I knew how to do that.”
[20]
“Undoubtedly,” said Philip; “at any rate, your legs appear so nearly equal in weight to your shoulders that I imagine if you were to go to the market commissioners and put your lower parts in the scale against your upper parts, as if they were loaves of bread, they would let you off without a fine.”
“When you are ready to begin your lessons, Socrates,” said Callias, “pray invite me, so that I may be opposite you in the figures and may learn with you.”
[21]
“Come,” said Philip, “let me have some flute music, so that I may dance too.”
So he got up and mimicked in detail the dancing of both the boy and the girl.
[22]
To begin with, since the company had applauded the way the boy’s natural beauty was increased by the grace of the dancing postures, Philip made a burlesque out of the performance by rendering every part of his body that was in motion more grotesque than it naturally was; and whereas the girl had bent backward until she resembled a hoop, he tried to do the same by bending forward. Finally, since they had given the boy applause for putting every part of his body into play in the dance, he told the flute girl to hit up the time faster, and danced away, flinging out legs, hands, and head all at the same time;
[23]
and when he was quite exhausted, he exclaimed as he laid himself down: “Here is proof, gentlemen, that my style of dancing, also, gives excellent exercise; it has certainly given me a thirst; so let the servant fill me up the big goblet.”
[24]