Taylor: ALC1 (104e-119a) — As ambições secretas de Alcibíades

SOC. I must say it then: and though it is a hard task for any man to address the person whom he loves or admires, if that person be superior to flattery, yet I must adventure boldly to speak my mind. If, Alcibiades, I had observed you satisfied with those advantages of yours, which I just now enumerated; if you had appeared to indulge the fancy of spending your whole life in the enjoyment of them; I persuade myself, that my love and admiration of you would have long since left me. But that you entertain thoughts very different from such as those, I shall now show, and shall lay your own mind open before yourself. By these means you will also plainly perceive, how constantly and closely my mind has attended to you. My opinion of you then is this: That, if any of the gods were to put this question to you, – “Alcibiades!” were he to say, “whether do you choose to live in the possession of all the things which are at present yours; or do you prefer immediate death, if you are not permitted ever to acquire things greater?” in this case, it appears to me that you would make death your option. But what kind of expectations you live in, I shall now declare. You think, that, if you speedily make your appearance before the Athenian people in assembly, (and this you purpose to do within a few days,) you shall be able to convince them, that you merit higher honours than were ever bestowed on Pericles, or any other person in any age: and having convinced them of this, you think that you will arrive at the chief power in the state; and if here at home, that you will then have the greatest weight and influence abroad; and not only so with the rest of the Grecian states, but with the barbarian nations too, as many as inhabit the same continent with us. And further: if the deity whom I spoke of, allowing you larger limits, were to say to you, that “you must be contented with being the master here in Europe; for that ’twill not be permitted you to pass over into Asia, nor concern yourself with the administration of any affairs there;” it appears to me, that neither on these terms, thus limited, would you think life eligible; nor on any terms, indeed, that fell short of filling, in a manner, the whole world with your renown, and of being every where lord and master. I believe you deem no man that ever lived, excepting Cyrus and Xerxes, worth the speaking of. In fine, that you entertain such hopes as I have mentioned, I know with certainty, and speak not from mere conjecture. Now you, perhaps, conscious of the truth of what I have spoken, might say, What is all this to the account you promised to give me, of the reasons for which your attachment to me still continues? I will tell you then, dear son of Clinias and Dinomache! That all these thoughts of yours should ever come to an end, is impossible without my help, – so great a power I think myself to have with regard to your affairs and to yourself too. For this reason, I have long been of opinion, that the godf did not as yet permit me to hold any conversation with you; and I waited for the time when he would give me leave. For, as you entertain hopes of proving to the people, that your value to them is equal to whatever they can give you; and as you expect that, having proved this point, you shall immediately obtain whatever power you desire; in the same manner do I expect to have the greatest power and influence over you, when I shall have proved that I am valuable to you1 more than any other thing is; and that neither guardian, nor relation, nor any other person, is able to procure you the power you long for, except myself; with the assistance, however, of the god. So long therefore as you was yet too young, and before you had your mind filled with those swelling hopes, I believe that the god would not permit me to have discourse with you, because you would not have regarded me, and I consequently should have discoursed in vain; but that he has now given me free leave, for that you would now harken to me.

ALC. Much more unaccountable and absurd do you appear to me now, Socrates, since you have begun to open yourself, than when you followed me every where without speaking to me a word: and yet you had all the appearance of being a man of that sort then. As to what you have said, whether I entertain those thoughts in my mind, or not, you, it seems, know with certainty: so that, were I to say I did not, the denial would not avail me, nor persuade you to believe me. Admitting it then, and supposing that I indulge the hopes you mentioned ever so much, how they may be accomplished by means of you, and that without your help they never can, are you able to prove to me?