Banquet

All agreeing on this point, too, he added, Antisthenes here seems to me to be a man of just that sort.Antisthenes asked, Are you resigning your profession to me, Socrates?Assuredly, was the answer. For I see that you have brought to a high state of perfection the complementary trade. What is that? The profession of go-between, he said.

Antisthenes was much incensed and asked, What knowledge can you possibly have of my being guilty of such a thing as that?I know several instances, he replied. I know that you acted the part between Callias here and the scholar Prodicus, when you saw that Callias was in love with philosophy and that Prodicus wanted money. I know also that you did the same for Hippias, the Elean, from whom Callias got his memory system; and as a result, Callias has become more amorous than ever, because he finds it impossible to forget any beauty he sees.

And just recently, you remember, you introduced the stranger from Heraclea[*](Zeuxippus, the painter. Cf. Plato, Protag. 318 B, C.) to me, after arousing my keen interest in him by your commendations. For this I am indeed grateful to you; for I look upon him as endowed with a truly noble nature. And did you not laud Aeschylus the Phleiasian[*](Nothing further seems to be known of this man.) to me and me to him until you brought us to such a pass that in mutual yearning, excited by your words, we went coursing like hounds to find each other?

It is the witnessing of your talent at achieving such a result that makes me judge you an excellent go-between. For the man who can recognize those who are fitted to be mutually helpful and can make them desire one another’s acquaintance, that man, in my opinion, could also create friendship between cities and arrange suitable marriages, and would be a very valuable acquisition as friend or ally for both states and individuals. But you got indignant, as if you had received an affront, when I said that you were a good go-between.But, indeed, that is all over now, he replied; for with this power mine I shall find my soul chock-full of riches. And so this round of discourse was brought to a close.

Callias now said, Critobulus, are you going to refuse to enter the lists in the beauty contest with Socrates?Undoubtedly! said Socrates; for probably he notices that the procurer stands high in the favour of the judges.

But yet in spite of that, retorted Critobulus, I do not shun the contest. So make your plea, if you can produce any profound reason, and prove that you are more handsome than I. Only, he added, let some one bring the light close to him. The first step, then, in my suit, said Socrates, is to summon you to the preliminary hearing; be so kind as to answer my questions. And you proceed to put them.

Do you hold, then, that beauty is to be found only in man, or is it also in other objects?Crit. In faith, my opinion is that beauty is to be found quite as well in a horse or an ox or in any number of inanimate things. I know, at any rate, that a shield may be beautiful, or a sword, or a spear.

Soc. How can it be that all these things are beautiful when they are entirely dissimilar?Why, they are beautiful and fine,[*](Critobulus, of course, gets into trouble by his poor definition of beauty. In the Greek the ensuing discussion is made plausible by the fact that throughout both disputants use only one word, καλός, which means not only beautiful or handsome but also glorious, noble, excellent, fine; and though starting with the first meaning it soon shifts to the last. The translator is compelled to use different terms for this in the two parts of the argument.) answered Critobulus, if they are well made for the respective functions for which we obtain them, or if they are naturally well constituted to serve our needs.

Soc. Do you know the reason why we need eyes?Crit. Obviously to see with.In that case, it would appear without further ado that my eyes are finer ones than yours.How so?Because, while yours see only straight ahead, mine, by bulging out as they do, see also to the sides.Crit. Do you mean to say that a crab is better equipped visually than any other creature?Soc. Absolutely; for its eyes are also better set to insure strength.

Crit. Well, let that pass; but whose nose is finer, yours or mine?Soc. Mine, I consider, granting that Providence made us noses to smell with. For your nostrils look down toward the ground, but mine are wide open and turned outward so that I can catch scents from all about.But how do you make a snub nose handsomer than a straight one?Soc. For the reason that it does not put a barricade between the eyes but allows them unobstructed vision of whatever they desire to see; whereas a high nose, as if in despite, has walled the eyes off one from the other.

As for the mouth, said Critobulus, I concede that point. For if it is created for the purpose of biting off food, you could bite off a far bigger mouthful than I could. And don’t you think that your kiss is also the more tender because you have thick lips? Soc. According to your argument, it would seem that I have a mouth more ugly even than an ass’s. But do you not reckon it a proof of my superior beauty that the River Nymphs, goddesses as they are, bear as their offspring the Seileni, who resemble me more closely than they do you?

I cannot argue any longer with you, answered Critobulus; let them distribute the ballots, so that I may know without suspense what fine or punishment I must undergo. Only, he continued, let the balloting be secret, for I am afraid that the wealth you and Antisthenes possess will overmaster me.

So the maiden and the lad turned in the ballots secretly. While this was going on, Socrates saw to it that the light should be brought in front of Critobulus, so that the judges might not be misled, and stipulated that the prize given by the judges to crown the victor should be kisses and not ribbons.

When the ballots were turned out of the urn and proved to be a unanimous verdict in favour of Critobulus, Faugh! exclaimed Socrates; your money, Critobulus, does not appear to resemble Callias’s. For his makes people more honest, while yours is about the most potent to corrupt men, whether members of a jury or judges of a contest.

At this some of the company urged Critobulus to take his kisses, the need of victory; others advised him to get the consent of the young people’s legal guardian; and others indulged in other badinage. But even then Hermogenes kept silent. And Socrates, calling him by name, inquired, Hermogenes, could you define convivial unpleasantness for us? If you ask me what it actually is, he answered, I do not know; but I am willing to tell you what I think it is. Soc. Very well, tell us that.

Herm. My definition of convivial unpleasantness is the annoying of one’s companions at their drink.Soc. Well, do you realize that at the present moment you conform to the definition by annoying us with your taciturnity?Herm. What! while you are talking?No, but in the intervals.Why, don’t you see that a person could not insert even a hair in the interstices of your talk, much less a word?

Callias, said Socrates, appealing to him, could you come to the rescue of a man hard put to it for an answer? Yes, indeed, said he: we are absolutely quiet every time the flute is played. Hermogenes retorted, Is it your wish that I should converse with you to the accompaniment of a flute, the way the actor Nicostratus used to recite tetrameter verses?

In Heaven’s name, do so, Hermogenes, urged Socrates. For I believe that precisely as a song is more agreeable when accompanied on the flute, so your discourse would be embellished somewhat by the music, especially if you were to gesticulate and pose, like the flute-girl, to point your words.

What is the tune to be, asked Callias, when Antisthenes here gets some one at the banquet cornered in an argument? For the discomfited disputant, said Antisthenes, I think the appropriate music would be a hissing.

The Syracusan, seeing that with such conversation going on the banqueters were paying no attention to his show, but were enjoying one another’s company, said spitefully to Socrates, Socrates, are you the one nick-named the Thinker? Well, isn’t that preferable, he rejoined, to being called the Thoughtless? Yes, if it were not that you are supposed to be a thinker on celestial subjects.[*](The Syracusan uses the word applied by the Greeks first to astronomical and then to philosophical (especially ontological) inquiry, a word of reproach for radical thinkers that was used against Socrates in Aristophanes’ burlesque, the Clouds, and later played a more serious part in Socrates’ trial.)