Symposium

At the one opposite the ladies, Eucritus had the first place, with Aristaenetus next him. Then a doubt arose whether the next was Zenothemis the Stoic’s, in virtue of his years, or Hermon the Epicurean’s, who is priest of the Twin Gods[*](Castor and Pollux.), and also of the noblest blood in the land. Zenothemis found the solution. ‘Aristaenetus,’ he said, ‘if you place me below this Epicurean (I need not use worse language than that), I at once leave the room’; and calling his servant he made as if to depart. ‘Have your way, Zenothemis,’ said Hermon, ‘though, whatever your contempt for Epicurus, etiquette would have suggested your giving way to my priesthood, if I had no other claims.’ ‘Priest and Epicurean! that is a good joke,’ retorted Zenothemis, and took the place, with Hermon next him, however. Then came Cleodemus the Peripatetic, Ion with the bridegroom, myself, Diphilus and his pupil Zeno, then Dionysodorus the rhetorician and Histiaeus the literary man.

Philosophy Upon my word, a very temple of the Muses, peopled mainly with the learned! I congratulate Aristaenetus on choosing for his guests on so auspicious an occasion these patterns of wisdom; he skimmed the cream off every sect in a most catholic spirit.

Lycinus Oh, yes, he is not one’s idea of the rich man at all; he cares for culture, and gives most of his time to those who have it.

Well, we fell to, quietly at first, on the ample and varied fare, But you do not want a catalogue of soups and pastry and sauces; there was plenty of everything. At this stage Cleodemus bent down to Ion, and said: ‘Do you see how the old man’ (this was Zenothemis; I could overhear their talk) ‘is stuffing down the good things—his dress gets a good deal of the gravy—and what a lot he hands back to his servant? he thinks we cannot see him, and does not care whether there will be enough to go round, Just call Lycinus’s attention to him.’ This was quite unnecessary, as I had had an excellent view of it for some time.

Just after Cleodemus had said this, in burst Alcidamas the cynic. He had not been asked, but put a good face upon it with the usual ‘No summons Menelaus waits.’ The general opinion clearly was that he was an impudent rogue, and various people struck in with what came to hand: ‘What, Menelaus, art distraught?’ or, ‘It liked not Agamemnon, Atreus’ son,’ and other neat tags suited to the occasion; but these were all asides; no one ventured to make them audible to him. Alcidamas is a man uncommonly ‘good at the war-cry’; he will bark you louder than any dog of them all, literal or metaphorical; my gentlemen all knew he was their better, and lay low.

Aristaenetus told him he was quite right to come; would he take a chair and sit behind Histiaeus and Dionysodorus? ‘Stuff!' he said; ‘a soft womanish trick, to sit on a chair or a stool! one might as well loll at one’s food half on one’s back, like all of you on this soft couch with purple cushions under you. As for me, I will take my dinner standing and walking about the room. If I get tired, I will lay my old cloak on the ground and prop myself on my elbow like Heracles in the

However, he did not let feeding interrupt his energetic expositions of virtue and vice, and his scoffs at gold and silver. What was the good of this multitude of wonderful cups, he wanted to know, when earthenware would serve the purpose? Aristaenetus got rid of his obtrusiveness for the moment by signing to his servant to hand the cynic a huge goblet of potent liquor. It seemed a happy thought; but he little knew the woes that were to flow from that goblet. When Alcidamas got it, he was quiet for a while, throwing himself on the ground in dishabille as he had threatened, with his elbow planted vertically, just in the attitude of the painters’ Heracles with Pholus.

By this time the wine was flowing pretty freely everywhere; healths were drunk, conversation was general, and the lights had come in. I now noticed the boy standing near Cleodemus —a good-looking cup-bearer—to have an odd smile on. I suppose I am to give you all the by-play of the dinner, especially any tender incidents. Well, so I was trying to get at the reason for the smile. In a little while he came to take Cleodemus’s cup from him; he gave the boy’s fingers a pinch, and handed him up a couple of shillings, I think it was, with the cup. The smile appeared again in response to the pinch, but I imagine he failed to notice the coins; he did not get hold of them; they went ringing on the floor, and there were two blushing faces to be seen. Those round, however, could not tell whose the money was, the boy saying he had not dropped it, and Cleodemus, at whose place it had been heard to fall, not confessing to the loss. So the matter was soon done with; hardly any one had grasped the situation—only Aristaenetus, as far as I could gather. He shifted the boy soon after, effecting

Alcidamas the cynic, who had now emptied his goblet, after finding out the bride’s name, called for silence; he then faced the ladies, and cried out in a loud voice: ‘Cleanthis, I drink to you in the name of my patron Heracles.’ There was a general laugh; upon which, ‘You vile scum,’ says he, ‘you laugh, do you, because I invoke our God Heracles as I toast the bride? Let me tell you that, if she will not pledge me, she shall never bear a son as brave of spirit, as free of judgement, as strong of body, as myself.” And he proceeded to show us more of the said body, till it was scarcely decent. The company irritated him by laughing again; he stood there with a wandering wrathful eye, and looked as if he were going to make trouble. He would probably have brought down his stick on somebody’s head, but for the timely arrival of an enormous cake, the sight of which mollified him; he quieted down, and accompanied its progress, eating hard.