Soc. Does not your simplicity observe that I have got out of dithyrambics into heroics, when only uttering a censure on the lover ? And if I am to add the praises of the non-lover, what will become of me ? Do you not perceive that I am already overtaken by the Nymphs to whom you have mischievously exposed me ? And therefore will only add that the non-lover has all the advantages in which the lover is accused of being deficient. And now I will say no more ; there has been enough of both of them. Leaving the tale to its fate, I will cross the river and make the best of my way home, lest a worse thing be inflicted upon me by you.
Phaedr. Not yet, Socrates ; not until the heat of the day has passed ; do you not see that the hour is almost noon ? there is the midday sun standing still, as people say, in the meridian. Let us rather stay and talk over what has been said, and then return in the cool.
Soc. Your love of discourse, Phaedrus, is superhuman, simply marvellous, and I do not believe that there is any one of your contemporaries who has either made or in one way or another has compelled others to make an equal number of speeches. I would except Simmias the Theban, but all the rest are far behind you. And now, I do verily believe that you have been the cause of another.
Phaedr. That is good news. But what do you mean ?
Soc. I mean to say that as I was about to cross the stream the usual sign was given to me, — that sign which always forbids, but never bids, me to do anything which I am going to do ; and I thought that I heard a voice saying in my car that I had been guilty of impiety, and. that I must not go away until I had made an atonement. Now I am a diviner, though not a very good one, but I have enough religion for my own use, as you might say of a bad writer — his writing is good enough for him ; and I am beginning to see that I was in error. O my friend, how prophetic is the human soul ! At the time I had a sort of misgiving, and, like Ibycus, “I was troubled ; I feared that I might be buying honour from men at the price of sinning against the gods.” Now I recognize my error.
Phaedr. What error ?
Soc. That was a dreadful speech which you brought with you, and you made me utter one as bad.
Phaedr. How so ?
Soc. It was foolish, I say, — to a certain extent, impious ; can anything be more dreadful ?
Phaedr. Nothing, if the speech was really such as you describe.
Soc. Well, and is not Eros the son of Aphrodite, and a god ?
Phaedr. So men say.
Soc. But that was not acknowledged by Lysias in his speech, nor by you in that other speech which you by a charm drew from my lips. For if love be, as he surely is, a divinity, he cannot be evil. Yet this was the error of both the speeches. There was also a simplicity about them which was refreshing ; having no truth or honesty in them, nevertheless they pretended to be something, hoping to succeed in deceiving the manikins of earth and gain celebrity among them. Wherefore I must have a purgation. And I bethink me of an ancient purgation of mythological error which was devised, not by Homer, for he never had the wit to discover why he was blind, but by Stesichorus, who was a philosopher and knew the reason why ; and therefore, when he lost his eyes, for that was the penalty which was inflicted upon him for reviling the lovely Helen, he at once purged himself. And the purgation was a recantation, which began thus:
False is that word of mine — the truth is that thou didst not embark in ships, nor ever go to the walls of Troy ; and when he had completed his poem, which is called “the recantation,” immediately his sight returned to him. Now I will be wiser than either Stesichorus or Homer, in that I am going to make my recantation for reviling love before I suffer ; and this I will attempt, not as before, veiled and ashamed, but with forehead bold and bare.
Phaedr. Nothing could be more agreeable to me than to hear you say so.
Soc. Only think, my good Phaedrus, what an utter want of delicacy was shown in the two discourses ; I mean, in my own and in that which you recited out of the book. Would not any one who was himself of a noble and gentle nature, and who loved or ever had loved a nature like his own, when we tell of the petty causes of lovers’ jealousies, and of their exceeding animosities, and of the injuries which they do to their beloved, have imagined that our ideas of love were taken from some haunt of sailors to which good manners were unknown — he would certainly never have admitted the justice of our censure ?
Phaedr. I dare say not, Socrates.
Soc. Therefore, because I blush at the thought of this person, and also because I am afraid of Love himself, I desire to wash the brine out of my ears with water from the spring ; and I would counsel Lysias not to delay, but to write another discourse, which shall prove that ceteris paribus the lover ought to be accepted rather than the non-lover.
Phaedr. Be assured that he shall. You shall speak the praises of the lover, and Lysias shall be compelled by me to write another discourse on the same theme.
Soc. You will be true to your nature in that, and therefore I believe you.
Phaedr. Speak, and fear not.