PLATO: PHAEDRUS

with translation

and commentary

C. J. Rowe

by

PLATO: PHAEDRUS

PLATO:
PHAEDRUS

with

translation

a n d commentary

C. J. Rowe

k
ARIS & PHILLIPS

by

CONTENTS

C . J . R o w e 1986. A l l rights reserved. N o part o f this p u b l i c a t i o n m a y be

reproduced, stored i n a retrieval system, or transmitted i n a n y f o r m b y any

means w i t h o u t the p r i o r w r i t t e n permission o f the publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

Plato
Phaedrus. (Classical texts)
L

Title

m.
184

. R o w e , Christopher

Series
B380

I S B N 0 85668 313 2 c/or/i

I S B N 0 85668 3 1 4 0 l i m p

PREFACE
INTRODUCTION
1. Plato
2. The plan of the Phaedrus
3. The structure of the Phaedrus
4. Characters, context and date
i) Characters
ii) Context
iii) Date
5. Notes on the text, translation and commentary
SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY
PHAEDRUS
- Text and translation
COMMENTARY
INDEX

Printed and published i n England b y A R I S & P H I L L I P S L T D .

Teddington House, C h u r c h Street, Warminster, Wiltshire, E n g l a n d .

1
6
7
11
H
13
13
14
16
19
135
219

'It m u s t b e so - s m a r t p l u m e t h o u r e a s o n ' s t w e l l Else whence this springing joy, this fond desire,
T h i s l o n g i n g after concerts, p l a y s , a n d balls?
Or whence this loathing dread and chill
ennui,
A t s t a y i n g oft at h o m e ? W h y h a t e w e a l l
I m m u r ' d t o s i t a l o n e , a n d s t a r t at c r i c k e t s ! . . . '
F r o m T h e Masquerade,
by
John Pe*""
3au ( a f t e r A d d i s o n )

'Though one man cannot teach another, one man may

suggest
to another.
I may be indebted to m y predecessor for setting
m y o w n f a c u l t i e s t o w o r k ; f o r h i n t i n g t o me w h a t q u e s t i o n s to
ask myself, a n d i n what o r d e r ; but it is not g i v e n to one man
to a n s w e r those
questions
for another.
Each person's
own
reason must work upon the materials afforded b y that
same
p e r s o n ' s o w n e x p e r i e n c e . K n o w l e d g e comes o n l y from
within;
a l l t h a t c o m e s f r o m w i t h o u t i s b u t questioning,
o r else it is
mere
authority.'
John Stuart

Mill

F o r Jim Tester
i n respect
and
affection

PREFACE
I n t h e Phaedrus,
w r o t e W . H . T h o m p s o n i n 1868, ' [ P l a t o ' s ]
literary ability shines out with greater lustre t h a n perhaps i n
any
other
o f his compositions.' T h i s is b y no means
an
e x t r a v a g a n t j u d g e m e n t . T h e Phaedrus
i s a w o r k i n which - as
a n y sensitive reader will soon be aware - nothing is quite what
it
seems:
subtle,
complex,
and
allusive.
B u t it has
not
generally received its fair share of attention i n all the
vast
range o f modern literature o n Plato; a n d m u c h o f what
has
been
written
on
it
consists
of
discussions
of
particular
passages o r ideas i n isolation from t h e i r context - b o t h a poor
way of treating a work o f art, and peculiarly self-defeating i n
the case o f a closely interconnected piece o f w r i t i n g like the
Phaedrus.
(It
is h a r d to explain this comparative
neglect:
perhaps
t h e r e is too m u c h p h i l o s o p h y i n it for the l i t e r a r y
c r i t i c , a n d too little for the philosopher; o r perhaps t h e r e is a
general sense that it is i n the end a lightweight w o r k - an
entirely mistaken v i e w , t h o u g h one that was e v i d e n t l y s h a r e d
by
some
of its
ancient
readers.)
Among
the
honourable
exceptions
in English
are
the
commentaries
of Thompson,
H a c k f o r t h (1952, with a t r a n s l a t i o n ) , a n d de V r i e s (1969). O f
these,
the
first
two are largely superseded
b y the third,
although both are still well worth consulting: Thompson's short
introduction, for example, is particularly good o n the overall
p l a n o f t h e Phaedrus;
and Hackforth produces a translation
w h i c h generally s u g g e s t s the distinction - i f not the v a r i e t y of Plato's Greek. De Vries' commentary, i n its t u r n , is mainly
linguistic i n its emphasis, and is unusable b y anyone without a
k n o w l e d g e o f G r e e k . It i s p r i m a r i l y t o w a r d s t h e n e e d s o f t h i s
category of reader that the present
volume i s w e i g h t e d . It
does also cater, i n a basic w a y , tor those t a c k l i n g the dialogue
in the original language, b y p r o v i d i n g a text, a translation
w h i c h i s as f a i t h f u l as p o s s i b l e w i t h o u t d e p a r t i n g too o f t e n o r
too far from E n g l i s h i d i o m , a n d some r u d i m e n t a r y h e l p i n t h e
notes with the more difficult stretches i n the G r e e k ; but the
availability o f de V r i e s ' commentary means that I have
been
able to leave aside most o f t h e more s p e c i a l i s e d l i n g u i s t i c a n d
t e x t u a l issues, t h u s freeing more space for the treatment o f
wider
issues
relating
to
content
and
structure.
A
fair
vii

proportion o f what I have to s a y o n these is n e w , a n d will also

be o f interest to specialists o n Plato.
My chief debt, t h e n , is to de V r i e s . More specific debts
are
to the
Clarendon Press,
f o r a l l o w i n g me t o
reproduce
Burnet's Oxford text (although I have introduced a significant
number
of alterations);
to D a v i d H o p k i n s , to whose
poetic
skills I owe the translation o f s e v e r a l ' s h o r t
verse
passages
which Plato either
quotes or invents;
to a number o f my
immediate colleagues, either for information o r for
patiently
allowing me to t r y out ideas o n t h e m ; to the U n i v e r s i t y o f
Bristol,
for
a term's
study
leave;
and
finally
to
Thomas
Szlezak, now o f W u r z b u r g , with whom I first discussed
the
Phaedrus
a d o z e n y e a r s ago ( a n d some o f whose i d e a s , o n one
important
passage,
I now find
myself accepting after
long
resistance).
-

INTRODUCTION
1.

Plato

Diogenes
Laertius,
i n his
Lives
of the
begins his account of Plato i n the following way:

Philosophers,

'Plato, an Athenian, son of Ariston and Perictione - or

Potone - who t r a c e d h e r descent from Solon [the
famous
l a w g i v e r ] . F o r h i s b r o t h e r was D r o p i d e s , from whom came
C r i t i a s , a n d from h i m C a l l a i s c h r u s ; from C a l l a i s c h r u s came
the
Critias who was one o f the T h i r t y ,
and Glaucon,
father o f Charmides and Perictione; a n d from h e r
and
Ariston
came P l a t o , i n t h e
sixth generation
[counting
inclusively]
from Solon.
A s for Solon,
he traced
his
descent from Neleus a n d P o s e i d o n . A n d t h e y s a y too that
A r i s t o n claimed descent
from C o d r u s , son o f Melanthus
[mythical early k i n g s o f A t h e n s ] , who are i n their t u r n
reported
as
descended
from
Poseidon,
according
to
T h r a s y l l u s [a scholar who was responsible for the d i v i s i o n
of
Plato's
works
into
'tetralogies',
at
around
the
beginning
of the
Christian era].
Speusippus
[Plato's
nephew]
in^ his
w o r k i n s c r i b e d Plato[s
Funeral
Feast,
Clearchus [third century B . C . polymath] i n his
Encomium
of P l a t o , a n d A n a x i l a i d e s i n t h e s e c o n d b o o k o f h i s O n
Philosophers
say that there was a s t o r y i n A t h e n s that
when
Perictione
was
ripe
for
marriage
Ariston
tried
unsuccessfully
to rape her,
a n d as
he
gave
up
the
attempt e x p e r i e n c e d a v i s i o n o f A p o l l o ; from t h e n o n he
k e p t h e r as a v i r g i n u n t i l s h e g a v e b i r t h ' ( I I I . 1-2).
T h i s p a s s a g e , w i t h its s t r i k i n g m i x o f fact a n d
fiction,
is
fairly representative of the quality o f the external biographical
evidence
on
Plato
available to
us.
We m i g h t
think
that
S p e u s i p p u s , at l e a s t , o u g h t t o h a v e k n o w n b e t t e r ( h e w a s a n
important philosophical figure i n his o w n right, and Plato's
s u c c e s s o r as h e a d o f t h e A c a d e m y ) . B u t h i s c o n c e r n , a n d that
of o t h e r contemporary a n d later writers like h i m , would have
been
r a t h e r to eulogise Plato a n d defend
him against
his
detractors
- o f whom t h e r e were evidently many - t h a n to
write his b i o g r a p h y . T h e collection o f biographical details for

viii

t h e i r o w n s a k e became a fashion r e l a t i v e l y late i n a n t i q u i t y ,

and
by
that time m u c h o f the
necessary
information
had
a l r e a d y b e e n l o s t . O f s i x a n c i e n t l i v e s o f P l a t o o f w h i c h we
have direct knowledge, Diogenes' is b y far the best; but all
are late,
dating from the
first
to the s i x t h centuries A . D .
(Diogenes' belongs to the early part o f the t h i r d ) , and
are
mainly compilations from earlier s o u r c e s .
These sources,
for
their
part,
appear
to
have
filled
in any
gaps
in
their
knowledge either b y means o f inference from Plato's w o r k s , o r
by
sheer
invention and
guesswork.
(One of the
clearest
examples o f this latter method is the s t o r y o f Plato's
name,
reported
in
Diogenes
III . 4 :
'Plato',
it
was
said,
was
a
n i c k n a m e , d e r i v i n g f r o m platus,
'broad', which he acquired according to different accounts - because o f the breadth of his
shoulders,
his style,
or
his
forehead;
h i s r e a l name
was
A r i s t o c l e s , from his paternal grandfather.
O n this and other
anecdotes about
h i m , see especially the book b y Alice
Swift
Riginos mentioned i n the Bibliography.)
T h e r e i s , however, one other important document which,
when added to Diogenes' account, enables us to sketch
the
outlines o f Plato's career - a n d p e r h a p s that is a l l we need,
t h o u g h we might wish for more.
Included i n the corpus of
Platonic writings is a collection o f letters, and one of these,
t h e s e v e n t h , contains what p u r p o r t s to be a defence o f h i s life
by
Plato
himself.
Unfortunately,
most
of the
letters
are
certainly s p u r i o u s , a n d h o w e v e r tempting it may be to accept
t h i s o n e , t h e r e are g o o d i n t e r n a l g r o u n d s for s u s p e c t i n g it
( s e e b e l o w ) . O n t h e o t h e r h a n d , i t g i v e s e v e r y a p p e a r a n c e at
least o f h a v i n g b e e n w r i t t e n b y someone who b o t h k n e w Plato
i n t i m a t e l y a n d u n d e r s t o o d h i s t h i n k i n g w e l l ; a n d a$ s u c h it
remains a valuable piece o f evidence, i f one to be treated with
some c a u t i o n .
P l a t o w a s b o r n i n a b o u t 427 B . C . ; h i s y o u t h a n d e a r l y
manhood
were
thus
spent
under
the
shadow
of
the
Peloponnesian W a r , w h i c h e n d e d with the c o n c l u s i v e defeat o f
A t h e n s i n 4 0 4 . T h e a c c o u n t i n t h e Seventh
Letter
begins with
the happenings o f that y e a r , w h e n democratic rule i n the city
*as b r i e f l y i n t e r r u p t e d b y the b l o o d y o l i g a r c h i c regime o f the
so-called T h i r t y Tyrants.
A s a member
of a wealthy
and
d i s t i n g u i s h e d family ( d i s t i n g u i s h e d , that i s , e v e n apart from
its d i v i n e connections as r e p o r t e d
b y Diogenes), he
would
h a v e e x p e c t e d - a s t h e Letter
confirms - to enter a career i n
politics;
and
we are t o l d t h a t he was a c t u a l l y i n v i t e d b y
2

'relatives
and acquaintances'
among the T h i r t y
(presumat
i n c l u d i n g h i s u n c l e C r i t i a s , w h o m D i o g e n e s m e n t i o n s ) t o jc
t h e m . B u t w h e n h e s a w h o w t h e y b e h a v e d , a n d e s p e c i a l l y the
attempt to i n v o l v e Socrates - n o n c h a l a n t l y r e f e r r e d to as
older f r i e n d o f mine' - i n one o f their crimes, he withdrew i n
disgust.
With the restoration o f democracy, he was
tempted
again to take
up
an active political role, but was
turned
against d o i n g so b y t h e t r i a l a n d e x e c u t i o n o f Socrates i n 399,
at t h e a g e o f s e v e n t y , o n a c h a r g e o f i m p i e t y i n s t i g a t e d b y
'some o f t h o s e i n p o w e r ' , despite t h e o l d man's u p r i g h t r e f u s a l
to be i m p l i c a t e d i n t h e d o i n g s o f t h e o l i g a r c h i c regime o f 404.
T h e l e t t e r t h e n s u m s u p h i s f e e l i n g s at t h i s j u n c t u r e :
'So w h e n I s a w t h i s a n d t h e k i n d o f m e n w h o w e r e a c t i v e
in
politics and
the
principles on
which things
were
managed, I concluded that it was difficult to take part i n
p u b l i c life and retain one's i n t e g r i t y , and t h i s feeling
became s t r o n g e r the more I o b s e r v e d a n d t h e o l d e r I
became. N o t h i n g could be done without friends a n d loyal
associates.
S u c h m e n w e r e n o t e a s y t o find a m o n g o n e ' s
existing
acquaintances,
for
affairs
were
no
longer
conducted on the principles practised b y our
ancestors,
a n d new friends could not be acquired with a n y facility.
Besides, the corruption o f written law and
established
custom was p r o c e e d i n g at a n a s t o n i s h i n g r a t e , so t h a t I
who
began b y being full of enthusiasm
for a political
career,
ended
by
g r o w i n g d i z z y at
the
spectacle
of
u n i v e r s a l confusion. I d i d not cease to consider how a n
improvement might be effected i n this particular situation
and i n politics i n general, and I remained o n the watch
for
t h e r i g h t moment for a c t i o n , but finally I came t o t h e
conclusion that the condition of all existing states is bad
nothing can cure their constitutions but a miraculous
reform
assisted
by
good l u c k - a n d I was d r i v e n to
assert, i n praise o f t r u e philosophy, that nothing else
can
enable one to see what i s r i g h t for states a n d for
individuals, and that the troubles of mankind will never
cease until either t r u e and genuine philosophers
attain
political
power
or
the
rulers
of
states
by
some
d i s p e n s a t i o n become g e n u i n e p h i l o s o p h e r s ' (325 c 5 - 326
b 4*, i n H a m i l t o n ' s P e n g u i n t r a n s l a t i o n ) .
* The standard form of reference to the Platonic corpus, based on Stephanus' Renaissance
edition: the first number indicates the page o f the relevant volume, the letter the section
of the page, and the second number the line o f the section.
3

T h e obvious motive o f the w r i t e r i n this part o f the letter

- w h e t h e r Plato himself, o r , as I t h i n k , m o r e p l a u s i b l y , one o f
his
followers - is to e x p l a i n w h y someone who s p e n t so m u c h
of his time t h e o r i s i n g about politics (as e . g . i n the R e p u b l i c
and the Laws) should have refused to offer the benefits o f his
wisdom i n a n y active w a y to his o w n c i t y . T h e point would
have been likely to occur to anyone, a n d might well have been
r a i s e d ( s e e a l s o Letter
V , 322 a ) , e s p e c i a l l y i n t h e l i g h t o f t h e
series o f episodes which the letter next r e c o r d s . I n the early
380s, Plato v i s i t e d S y r a c u s e ,
w h e r e h e met a n d
befriended
Dion,
a relative of the
despot
who then
ruled the
city,
D i o n y s i u s I . D i o n was c o n v e r t e d to his i d e a l s , so the
letter
claims, a n d became a c o n v i n c e d opponent b o t h o f t y r a n n y and
o f t h e e x t r a v a g a n t l y l u x u r i o u s w a y o f life a s s o c i a t e d w i t h it
(we may t h i n k i n this
connection of the portrayal of
the
tyrannical state and the corresponding individual type i n Book
IX
of the
R e p u b l i c , w h i c h was
probably based on
Plato's
experience
of the
Syracusan
court).
After
the
death
of
D i o n y s i u s I i n 367, P l a t o w e n t b a c k t o S y r a c u s e at D i o n ' s
instigation
in order
to
try
to
exert
the
same i m p r o v i n g
influence on the y o u n g Dionysius II; but he was caught up i n
political intrigues
and
barely
got
away,
h a v i n g made
no
headway with his intended p u p i l , who t u r n e d out to have little
taste for philosophical conversation. Despite this failure, he
was
reluctantly
persuaded
to
return
yet
again,
only
for
D i o n y s i u s to inform h i m that he a l r e a d y k n e w most o f what
Plato h a d to teach. M u c h o f this is difficult to c r e d i t , but it is
probably right to suppose that it is founded i n historical fact.
Why,
Plato's critics might fairly have a s k e d , d i d he go o f f a n d
dabble i n the affairs o f a foreign city, while d i s d a i n i n g to take
part i n those o f his own? T h e r e p l y given b y the letter is that
it was b e c a u s e he g e n u i n e l y b e l i e v e d t h a t c i r c u m s t a n c e s
at
Syracuse offered an opportunity for intervention however
mistaken that belief t u r n e d out to be - i n a w a y i n which
Athens d i d not.
In any case, what the adventure i n Sicily
s h o w s ( a n d as t h e letter p a r t l y u s e s it to s h o w ) i s t h a t he was
no mere a r m c h a i r political t h e o r i s t : w h e n t h e c h a n c e for action
came, he took i t .
I n t h e Republic,
which must certainly predate the second
a n d t h i r d v i s i t s to S i c i l y , Plato g i v e s us t h e o u t l i n e s o f a n
ideal state whose k e y ingredient is just that union o f political
p o w e r a n d p h i l o s o p h y p r e s c r i b e d b y t h e Seventh
Letter
as the
cure for human ills:
the task o f r u l i n g the state is to be
4

entrusted to a group of men (and women) who after a l o n g

period o f philosophical training have acquired direct knowledge
of justice a n d goodness, which constitute the t r u e ends o f life
for
b o t h i n d i v i d u a l a n d c o m m u n i t y . We s h o u l d n o t
suppose,
h o w e v e r , that he seriously envisaged b e i n g able to put s u c h a
programme i n t o practice i n S y r a c u s e . H e was not so naive as
t o t h i n k t h a t h e c o u l d t u r n t h e y o u n g e r D i o n y s i u s , o f 11
people, into the ideal philosopher-ruler; nor does the
Seventh
Letter
suggest a n y t h i n g o f the sort. T h e political scheme o f
t h e Republic
is largely a thought-experiment, and Plato i n any
case later openly abandons
o r modifies many o f its
central
f e a t u r e s , m o s t n o t a b l y i n h i s l a s t w o r k , t h e Laws,
which
he
left i n a p a r t l y u n f i n i s h e d state o n h i s d e a t h i n 347. H i s
p u r p o s e w i t h D i o n y s i u s - to go s t r i c t l y b y the evidence o f the
Seventh
Letter
was
the
rather
more
modest
one
of
persuading him to reflect on the proper function of government
and on the
principles o n w h i c h it s h o u l d be based.
The
Republic
is a sample o f his own reflections o n these subjects,
seriously intended,
but i n the end to be treated o n l y as a
p r o v i s i o n a l statement ( i n d e e d , as he tells u s i n the
Phaedrus,
n o a u t h o r s h o u l d r e g a r d anything
h e w r i t e s a s fixed a n d f i n a l :
see u n d e r section 3 b e l o w ) .
But Plato is not o n l y , a n d not even primarily, a political
w r i t e r . T h e ' s c i e n c e o f r u l i n g ' ( o r , as he sometimes calls i t ,
'the science o f k i n g s h i p ' ) is the highest of all the sciences,
because it will include knowledge o f what is really good for
us, i . e . justice, and the other v i r t u e s . ( B u t ideally all o f us
would possess s u c h knowledge, and one of the chief purposes
of his w r i t i n g i n general is to encourage us to p u r s u e it as
individuals,
suggesting
what
seem to him to b e
the
best
methods,
a n d g i v i n g samples o f their application (though
at
the same time admitting that few, i f a n y , will actually achieve
full
knowledge
many,
he
claims,
lack the
intellectual
equipment even to begin the search, and will always require to
be governed b y others). Only philosophical reflection, i n his
view, will enable us p r o p e r l y to grasp the good, and realise
o u r n a t u r e as m o r a l b e i n g s . T h i s fundamental i d e a , t o g e t h e r
with
the
equally
fundamental
model o f p h i l o s o p h y as
an
u n f l a g g i n g s e a r c h for the t r u t h , he inherited from Socrates.
T h e d i a l o g u e form i t s e l f d e r i v e s from t h e same s o u r c e , i n so
far
as
it tries to imitate the question a n d answer
method
typically
favoured
by
Socrates
i n his
conversations.
The
degree o f Plato's debt to Socrates is not acknowledged either
5

b y t h e Seventh
Letter
or b y Diogenes, but it is clear enough
from
the
dialogues.
Socrates
nearly always appears in
the
l e a d i n g r o l e , e v e n w h e n , as i n t h e P h a e d r u s ,
t h e r e are ideas
in
p l a y w h i c h he never dreamed of; p a r t l y because he
had
come s i m p l y to r e p r e s e n t
the ideal philosopher
(see
under
section 4(i) below), but also p e r h a p s because Plato saw his
o w n t h i n k i n g , at w h a t e v e r s t a g e , as n o m o r e t h a n a n e x t e n s i o n
of Socrates

x.
xi.
xii.
xiii.
xiv.

T r a n s i t i o n to a discussion about s p e a k i n g and w r i t i n g

(257 b - 259 d )
R h e t o r i c - as i t s h o u l d b e , a n d as i t i s (259 e - 274 b )
How u s e f u l i s w r i t i n g as a medium o f communication a n d
t e a c h i n g ? (274 b - 277 a )
C o n c l u s i o n s (277 a - 279 b )
A final p r a y e r (279 b - c)

But there is one difference between the two men which is

o f s p e c i a l r e l e v a n c e i n t h e c o n t e x t o f t h e Phaedrus:
whereas
Socrates preferred the medium of private conversation, Plato,
by
w r i t i n g d o w n a n d p u b l i s h i n g h i s t h o u g h t s ( o r some o f
t h e m ) , h o p e d t o s p e a k t o t h e w o r l d at l a r g e . A t t h e e n d o f
t h e Phaedrus,
he compares the relative usefulness o f writing
a n d live d i s c u s s i o n as methods o f t e a c h i n g , a n d decides i n
favour o f the latter, so implicitly admitting the limited value of
h i s o w n w r i t t e n p r o d u c t s ( s e e u n d e r s e c t i o n 3 b e l o w ) . We m a y
assume, h o w e v e r , that the p u r e Socratic method continued to
flourish i n the Academy, which Plato founded i n the middle of
t h e 380s as a n i n s t i t u t e f o r t e a c h i n g a n d r e s e a r c h , a n d w h i c h
r a p i d l y attracted not o n l y a s p i r i n g p o l i t i c i a n s , from all over
t h e G r e e k w o r l d , b u t also some o f t h e b e s t t h e o r e t i c a l m i n d s including the young Aristotle.

2.

The plan of the

Phaedrus

The
dialogue
is
a
continuous
whole;
but
it c a n
be
conveniently d i v i d e d into the following sections. (Most receive
s e p a r a t e d i s c u s s i o n i n t h e c o m m e n t a r y ; b u t f o r s e c t i o n x i i , see
under 'Structure
below.)
1

i.
ii.
iii.
iv.
v.
vi.
vii.
viii.
ix.

T n e s c e n e i s set (227 a - 230 e )

L y s i a s ' s p e e c h (230 e - 234 c )
T r a n s i t i o n t o S o c r a t e s ' first s p e e c h ( 2 3 4 c - 2 3 7 b )
S o c r a t e s ' first s p e e c h o n l o v e ( 2 3 7 b - 2 4 1 d )
T r a n s i t i o n t o S o c r a t e s ' s e c o n d s p e e c h ( 2 4 1 d - 243 e )
S o c r a t e s ' s e c o n d s p e e c h b e g i n s ( 2 4 3 e - 245 c )
'Experiences and actions' o f divine and human souls
(245 c - 249 d )
T h e b l e s s i n g s o f t h e m a d n e s s o f l o v e ( 2 4 9 d - 257 a)
A p r a y e r to L o v e (257 a - b )
6

3.

The structure of the

Phaedrus

T h e c h i e f t a s k o f a n y i n t e r p r e t e r o f t h e Phaedrus
is to
identify the thread, o r threads, which hold its various parts
together;
and i n particular,
to understand
the
relationship
b e t w e e n t h e first h a l f , w h i c h c u l m i n a t e s i n a l o n g a n d p o w e r f u l
speech
by
Socrates
o n the
nature of ideal love, and
the
second, the larger part o f w h i c h is occupied b y a rather more
prosaic
discussion of
rhetorical theory
and
practice.
The
Renaissance
Platonist
Ficino,
together with his
Neoplatonist
precursors,
saw the account o f love a n d its compelling image
of
the
chariot
of
the
soul
as
containing
the
'principal
mysteries' of the dialogue, and this is indeed a tempting view,
e s p e c i a l l y f o r a n y o n e f r e s h f r o m r e a d i n g t h e Symposium.
But
since there is nothing directly \ o n the topic o f love i n the
s e c o n d h a l f at a l l , t h e c o n s e q u e n c e , w i l l t h e n b e t h a t t h e w o r k
as
a whole falls into two quite
distinct parts which is
intolerable i n a work i n which Socrates specifically complains
"about
an
author
(Lysias)
for
failing
to put
together
an
organic
c o m p o s i t i o n (264 b - c ) . It i s n o t o f c o u r s e i m p o s s i b l e
that Plato might have b r o k e n his own principles; but it is
h a r d l y l i k e l y , s i n c e he i s g e n e r a l l y k n o w n as t h e most c a r e f u l
o f w r i t e r s (see m y n o t e o n 278 d 9 - e 1 ) . B u t i n a n y c a s e we
s u r e l y owe it to any author to accuse him o f negligence o n l y
as a last r e s o r t .
I f w e find t h e e l o q u e n c e o f S o c r a t e s ' c e n t r a l s p e e c h m o r e
a p p e a l i n g t h a n t h e d r i e r lessons t h a t follow ( t h o u g h t h e y do
contain their own pleasures), that is part o f Plato's intention.
It
is
introduced,
i n the
first
instance,
precisely
as
an
illustration o f what rhetoric can attain t o . P h a e d r u s has
read
out a speech against love b y L y s i a s , whom he r e g a r d s as 'the
cleverest
of
present
writers'
(228
a),
and
Socrates
has
responded
with a competing speech o f his own o n the
same
theme; now he r e p e n t s o f h i s
first
speech,
and mounts
an
7

impassioned defence o f love, b y implication both rhetorically

superior to, and more serious t h a n , the piece o f L y s i a s which
Phaedrus
admires.
But
in
the
ensuing
conversation
the
perspective changes.
T h i s s e c o n d s p e e c h i s n o t , after a l l , to
b e t a k e n s e r i o u s l y , e x c e p t i n so f a r as ( i n c o n j u n c t i o n with
the
first)
it illustrates
a particular kind
of philosophical
m e t h o d (264 e f f ) ; a l l t h e r e s t - w h i c h w i l l i n c l u d e e y e r j r t h i n g
we are likely to enjoy i n it - 'really was playfully done,
by
way o f amusement'
(265 c ) . T h e b e s t t h a t c a n b e s a i d for t h i s
'playful' part is that it 'allowed us p e r h a p s to g r a s p
some
t r u t h , t h o u g h m a y b e also i t t o o k u s i n a w r o n g d i r e c t i o n ' (265
b).
L a t e r s t i l l , Socrates seems to admit that t h e r e will be a
place for speeches like his which mix together the serious and
the playful, i n relation to a particular k i n d o f audience
(see
e s p e c i a l l y m y n o t e o n 277 c 2 - 3 ) . B u t t h e y a r e n o t t h e i d e a l
form
of
communication or
teaching;
that
claim belongs
to
'dialectic', the 'science o f conversation', w h i c h is the medium
of the philosopher. B y implication, they will be worth serious
c o n s i d e r a t i o n i n so far as t h e y b o r r o w from p h i l o s o p h y , but
otherwise not. Socrates' second speech t h u s t u r n s out to have
been a false climax: i f it is c e r t a i n l y s u p e r i o r to L y s i a s ,
by
t h e h i g h e s t s t a n d a r d s it s t i l l f a i l s . B u t as I t r y to s h o w i n the
commentary, this t u r n i n the argument is already signalled b y
the inclusion o f a n u m b e r o f o b v i o u s l y l i g h t e r ideas o r themes
in the speech itself.

sown bear
f r u i t i n h i s p u p i l ' s m i n d i s 'as h a p p y as it i s
p o s s i b l e f o r a m a n t o b e ' (276 e - 277 a ) ; a n d t h i s i d e a c l e a r l y
echoes the description o f the ideal lover i n Socrates' second
speech,
who is inspired b y
his love to a blissful life o f
philosophy
with
his
chosen
partner
(256
a
b).
The
relationship between lover and beloved represents a poetic or
mythical version o f that
between
teacher and pupil
(some
p h i l o s o p h e r s m a y be i n l o v e - o r else Plato m a y h o p e t h a t some
ordinary love-relationships may t u r n into philosophical ones;
but t h e r e is no suggestion that it is a necessary condition o f
dialectical progress).
Socrates is himself both a dialectician
a n d a l o v e r , o r at least a l o v e r o f ' t a l k ' (228 b - c ) , a n d o f a
particular k i n d o f method (i.e. the method of 'collection and
division'
which is illustrated i n his two speeches:
266 b ) ,
t h o u g h he is also a n expert i n the 'science o f love' i n general,
and is 'prized b y the beautiful
(257 a ) . I f h e i s a p p a r e n t l y
able to g i v e set speeches t o o , t h e y b e l o n g to the local deities
who i n s p i r e d him - o r to a n y o n e , r a t h e r t h a n to h i m , since he
k n o w s n o t h i n g (235 b ) , a n d has no s h a r e i n a n y 'science o f
s p e a k i n g ' (263 d ) .
1

T h e r e are also similar changes o f p e r s p e c t i v e i n relation

to Socrates' f i r s t s p e e c h . H e initially d i s o w n s i t , as a slight o n
love; but i n the second half o f the dialogue it is rehabilitated,
b o t h as a n i l l u s t r a t i o n o f c e r t a i n a s p e c t s o f a p r o p e r r h e t o r i c a l
m e t h o d (263 d f f . ) , a n d as a d e s c r i p t i o n o f a p a r t i c u l a r a n d
contemptible k i n d o f l o v e , to be d i s t i n g u i s h e d from the ideal
sort
(266 a ) .
What was w r o n g w i t h i t , a n d what
Socrates
recants i n his second speech, was just its implicit suggestion
t h a t a l l l o v e , a n d all l o v e r s , w e r e t a r r e d w i t h t h e s a m e b r u s h .
When t a k e n together with the second speech, it is no longer
o b j e c t i o n a b l e ; a n d t h e c o m b i n a t i o n o f t h e t w o , as m u c h as t h e
s e c o n d b y itself, can be treated - i n contrast to L y s i a s ' piece
- as a p a r a d i g m o f t h e s p e e c h - m a k e r ' s
art.
T h e r e i s , then, a clear formal relationship between
the
two p a r t s o f the dialogue. B u t despite a p p e a r a n c e s t h e r e is
a l s o a r e l a t i o n s h i p b e t w e e n t h e m i n t e r m s o f content.
The
second part ends b y identifying the true teacher with
the
p h i l o s o p h e r o r d i a l e c t i c i a n , w h o as he watches t h e s e e d h e has
8

T h i s i s a t r a n s p a r e n t p l o y . T h e s p e e c h e s are o f c o u r s e
his;
a n d t h e y show him to possess just that e x p e r t i s e as a
s p e a k e r w h i c h he disclaims. O n the o t h e r h a n d , t h e y do not
imply his
possession of the sort of expertise
which really
matters, i . e . about the subjects with which t h e y deal; what is
claimed o f them is only that t h e y point us - perhaps - i n the
r i g h t d i r e c t i o n , not that t h e y are full expositions o f the t r u t h .
In this sense, Socrates'
disavowal of knowledge stands. A t
b e s t , he has the pieces of knowledge w h i c h are later said to
be the basis o n w h i c h the model d i a l e c t i c i a n w o r k s (276 c:
' p i e c e s erf k n o w l e d g e a b o u t w h a t i s j u s t , fine a n d g o o d ' ) . T h e
implied
final
v e r d i c t o n t h e t w o s p e e c h e s i s t h e same as t h e
one passed o n written w o r k s , when these are compared with
the
living process o f dialectic: namely that a large part of
what is i n them is 'merely for amusement' (so m u c h has already
explicitly been said o f them), and that they lack any great
c e r t a i n t y o r c l a r i t y (277 d - e ) . I n d e e d , t h e s e c o n c l u s i o n s are
specifically
extended
to
t h o s e live speeches w h i c h aim
to
'produce
conviction
without
questioning
or
teaching',
a
description which
fits
both of Socrates'
speeches i n
their
original context.
An
speeches

important
consequence
will
flow
from
this.
The
include a large number o f central Platonic ideas - the
9

second
is
almost
a roll-call which
are
also prominently
represented
i n other
dialogues,
in
a
recognisably
similar
fashion;
a n d what is said about
these ideas
here in
the
Phaedrus
w i l l t h e n p r e s u m a b l y a p p l y e q u a l l y to t h e same ideas
as t h e y a p p e a r e l s e w h e r e . I n o t h e r w o r d s , P l a t o w i l l i n part
b e u s i n g t h e d i a l o g u e in o r d e r t o c o m m e n t o n t h e n a t u r e a n d
v a l u e o f h i s o w n o u t p u t as a w r i t e r .
But
the implication is present i n a n y case, even i f this
particular argument is not accepted. When Socrates criticises
w r i t i n g as a m e d i u m , he goes o u t o f h i s w a y t o e m p h a s i s e t h a t
his s t r i c t u r e s will a p p l y to all w r i t t e n w o r k s , w h e t h e r speeches
like Lysias
or political compositions, whether prose or verse
(277 d f f . ; c f . 258 d ) , a n d o n a n y n a t u r a l r e a d i n g t h i s must
include Plato's o w n w o r k s . T r u e , the treatment o f writing is
presented i n the context of what i s , i n dramatic terms,
a
conversation
- a n d a c o n v e r s a t i o n , m o r e o v e r , w h i c h at least
since the e n d o f Socrates' second speech seems to have been a
perfectly respectable example o f dialectic i n action. O n this
b a s i s w e m i g h t t h e n w a n t t o a r g u e t h a t t h e Phaedrus
itself, or
part of i t , will be exempted from Socrates' criticisms - and i f
t h e Phaedrus,
w h y not o t h e r d i a l o g u e s t o o , i n so f a r as t h e y
illustrate the principles o f dialectic? B u t the failings identified
i n the written composition i n general - that it always says the
same t h i n g , a n d cannot a n s w e r q u e s t i o n s o r d e f e n d itself seem t o b e l o n g no less to t h e w r i t t e n d i a l o g u e . I f it may
possess
internal
movement
of
a
kind,
it
still
remains
statuesquely
silent
in
relation to
the
reader.
Some
small
confirmation that this is also Plato's view o n the matter is
provided
b y the
fact t h a t
at
the
end he
makes
Socrates
d e s c r i b e t h e d i s c u s s i o n o f s p e a k i n g a n d w r i t i n g too as h a v i n g
been an 'amusement', the v e r y term he has just associated with
writing
(278 b
7). But more importantly, this is how
the
Phaedrus
as a whole c l e a r l y r e a d s , a n d i s i n t e n d e d to r e a d :
its tone is l i g h t , i r o n i c a n d p l a y f u l v i r t u a l l y t h r o u g h o u t . I n
other words, the dialogue illustrates its o w n theory o f writing
as p l a y , just as S o c r a t e s ' s e c o n d s p e e c h , w i t h i n t h e dramatic
context itself, i l l u s t r a t e s t h e same t h e o r y as e x t e n d e d to c o v e r
t h e set r h e t o r i c a l p i e c e .
1

The outcome o f the dialogue is something like t h i s . T h e r e

is a right and a w r o n g w a y o f a d d r e s s i n g a n audience, and
d o i n g it i n the r i g h t w a y d e p e n d s ( a m o n g o t h e r t h i n g s ) o n the
orator's u s i n g the methods o f dialectic. B u t t r u e r h e t o r i c is a
m a t t e r o f teaching;
and the conditions for effective teaching
10

exist only i n the context of dialectic proper, i n which the

p u p i l c a n q u e s t i o n his teacher, a n d force him to defend his
statements.
Compared
with
this the
making or
writing of
speeches,
however
good,
and
indeed
any
writing,
is
a
distinctly inferior activity. T h e writer who knows a n y t h i n g ,
Socrates
suggests,
will be able to show that what he
has
written is 'of little w o r t h ' , because when challenged o n it he
has
'more
valuable
things'
to
say
(278
c
e):
i.e.,
p r e s u m a b l y , t h i n g s w h i c h are b o t h different from what he s a i d
i n his w r i t t e n composition ( w h i c h always s a y s the same t h i n g ) ,
and
also better, closer to the t r u t h . ' T h e just, the fine and
the good', the things with which both dialectic and rhetoric
deal, are peculiarly difficult and elusive subjects, and anyone
who attaches r e a l importance to one p a r t i c u l a r account o f them
will t h e r e b y be s h o w i n g himself ignorant o f that fundamental
fact
(277 d - e ) . N o statement about s u c h t h i n g s i s to b e
r e g a r d e d as
final;
o n l y a g o d i s capable o f full k n o w l e d g e (278
d).
A l l o f this will t h e n a p p l y to the dialogues, w h i c h
are
undoubtedly
examples o f written works o n precisely these
subjects: Plato himself expects to be challenged about what he
has w r i t t e n , a n d to be forced to improve o n i t . No doubt he
met m a n y s u c h c h a l l e n g e s i n t h e c o u r s e o f o r a l d i s c u s s i o n i n
the A c a d e m y . (Some have seen the e x p r e s s i o n 'more valuable
things'
as
a l l u d i n g to what Aristotle
refers
to as
Plato's
'so-called
unwritten opinions'.
Plato evidently developed
a
number
of more
or
less
esoteric
ideas
which
are
never
expressed, or expressed fully, i n the dialogues; but whether
he w o u l d h a v e r e g a r d e d t h e s e as n e c e s s a r i l y 'more v a l u a b l e '
than a n y t h i n g he put into writing,
a n d i n d e e d w h e t h e r we
need to
find
a n y s p e c i f i c r e f e r e n c e i n t h e e x p r e s s i o n at a l l ,
are matters of considerable dispute.)

4.

Characters, context and

date

i)

The characters
The
cast-list of the dialogue contains only two names,
those o f Socrates and P h a e d r u s . Plato also casts Phaedrus i n
t h e Symposium;
o n h i s r o l e t h e r e , s e e n o t e o n 242 a 7 - b 5 .
S o c r a t e s a d d r e s s e s h i m b o t h as ' y o u n g m a n ' a n d as ' b o y ' , b u t
these are more t h a n likely to be o n l y relative terms. Socrates
is perhaps
p a s t m i d d l e a g e ( s e e 227 c - d ) , a n d
Phaedrus
m i g h t b e , s a y , at t h e e n d o f h i s t h i r t i e s , s i n c e o t h e r e v i d e n c e
11

from Plato s u g g e s t s that he o u g h t to b e about t w e n t y y e a r s

y o u n g e r (he i s m e n t i o n e d as a n a c o l y t e - p r e s u m a b l y y o u n g of
one
o f the
sophists
i n the
Protagoras,
which
belongs
dramatically to t h e late 430s). B u t he i s i n a n y case pow past
the bloom o f y o u t h , a n d for t h e most part he a n d
Socrates
seem to b e h a v e t o w a r d s e a c h o t h e r as e q u a l s . H i s m a i n feature
is
a passionate
commitment to t h e
kind
of rhetoric
which
Socrates c r i t i c i s e s ; some commentators claim t h a t b y t h e e n d o f
the dialogue Socrates
arguments have cured him, but i n my
view the s i g n s are d i s t i n c t l y a m b i g u o u s , a n d meant to be so.
The
h i s t o r i c a l P h a e d r u s was e x i l e d from A t h e n s b e t w e e n
the
y e a r s 415 a n d 404 B . C . a s a r e s u l t o f h i s a l l e g e d i n v o l v e m e n t
in
the
famous s c a n d a l o f the mutilation o f t h e Hermae;
but
these facts have no obvious b e a r i n g o n the argument of the
Phaedrus.
Quite w h y Plato chooses him is not clear,
though
one motive might have been to suggest a continuity with the
Symposium,
i n which Socrates advances a similar doctrine of
love, and i n a comparable dramatic situation (a competition i n
speech-making).
1

Socrates,
of course,
c h o o s e s h i m s e l f : as so o f t e n ,
he
plays the role o f the ideal p h i l o s o p h e r , w h i c h no one c a n fill
quite like h i m . B u t t h e r e a r e some p e c u l i a r features about his
h a n d l i n g i n t h e Phaedrus.
He possesses all the typical Socratic
features:
he is poor;
he
likes to
stay
i n t o w n ; he
goes
barefoot; he knows nothing; he hears a divine voice; he is an
inept orator;
he loves c o n v e r s a t i o n . B u t as m y commentary
tries
to
show,
none
of
these
features
is
used
for
straightforward
descriptive
purposes;
each
is
openly
' m a n i p u l a t e d for some dramatic o r l i t e r a r y effect. E v e n more
o b v i o u s m a n i p u l a t i o n i s i n v o l v e d w h e n h e s u d d e n l y s t e p s out o f
character,
i n o r d e r to g i v e his set speeches. A l l t h i s is part
of the deliberate playfulness w h i c h r u n s t h r o u g h the dialogue
(see
under
'Structure
above),
and
which
constitutes
its
special charm.
1

T h e r e are also two other

figures
who play pivotal roles
w i t h o u t a c t u a l l y a p p e a r i n g o n s t a g e : L y s i a s ( c . 459 - c . 3 8 0 ) ,
v h o s e Eroticus
- i f it is genuinely his - p r o v i d e s the occasion
f t h e d i a l o g u e , a n d Isocrates (436 - 338), who i s i n t r o d u c e d
briefly o n the v e r y last page o f the dialogue, a n d p r o b a b l y
represents the immediate contemporary target o f the d i s c u s s i o n
of r h e t o r i c . L y s i a s was one o f the canon o f t e n ' A t t i c orators'
w h i c h was r e c o g n i s e d i n later a n t i q u i t y , w e l l - k n o w n for his
elegant b u t ( r e l a t i v e l y ) n a t u r a l s t y l e ; for Isocrates (who also
12

belonged to the c a n o n ) , see m y

in t h e commentary (278 e 5 f f . ) .

note

on the

relevant

passage

ii)

Context
Most
aspects of the
general context
of the
Phaedrus
either speak for themselves, o r are dealt with i n the course o f
the commentary. A single p o i n t , h o w e v e r , may be made h e r e .
In o u r o w n s o c i e t y , r h e t o r i c no l o n g e r e x i s t s as a subject
for
formal i n q u i r y - except perhaps i n relation to the criticism
of literature - o r for t e a c h i n g . B u t i n the A t h e n s o f the
fifth
and fourth centuries B . C . , it represented
one of the main
focal points o f intellectual activity. In a community i n which
sovereign power rested with the popular assembly, and justice
was a d m i n i s t e r e d b y l a r g e c i t i z e n j u r i e s , a n a b i l i t y to s p e a k
p e r s u a s i v e l y w o u l d h a v e b e e n a n e c e s s a r y c o n d i t i o n not o n l y o f
political success but even, o n occasion, of personal survival;
a n d i n response to this need t h e r e emerged a large number o f
i n d i v i d u a l rhetorical theorists a n d teachers, many o f whom are
l i s t e d i n t h e Phaedrus,
along with their inventions. F o r a man
like Plato, who is himself vitally concerned with political and
educational issues, the subject o f rhetoric and its practitioners
is t h e r e f o r e no mere s i d e - i s s u e . T h e r e i s a n u r g e n t q u e s t i o n
to be answered, namely whether i t , and t h e y , have a n y t h i n g
to contribute to the r u n n i n g o f a w e l l - o r d e r e d society o r to
the education o f its members. T h i s is a question which Plato
h a s r a i s e d b e f o r e , i n t h e Protagoras,
the
Hippias
Major
(if
g e n u i n e ) , a n d m o s t n o t a b l y i n t h e Gorgias;
he now raises it
again.
But,
as
should
already be
clear enough
from
my
account
of the
structure
of the
Phaedrus,
the
attack
on
rhetorical t h e o r y a n d practice forms o n l y a part o f the overall
p u r p o s e o f t h e w o r k . Some h a v e s e e n it e s s e n t i a l l y as a t r a c t
written
by
Plato
on
behalf
of his
own
foundation,
the
Academy,
against the r i v a l school o f Isocrates
(see
above);
but while t h e r e may be a g r a i n o f t r u t h i n this s u g g e s t i o n , it
misses
all the
subtler and more interesting aspects o f the
whole - a l l aspects o f i t , i n d e e d , w h i c h constitute its claim o n
our attention.
(In a n y case, how s e r i o u s l y would Plato r e a l l y
have taken Isocrates?)
iii)

Date
There
i s n o p o s s i b l e dramatic
date for the
Phaedrus.
Lysias
i s s u p p o s e d l y i n A t h e n s , a n d at t h e h e i g h t o f h i s
p o w e r s (227 b ) , a n d h i s b r o t h e r P o l e m a r c h u s i s s t i l l a l i v e (257
13

b).
B u t L y s i a s a p p a r e n t l y d i d not come b a c k from
Thurii,
w h e r e he h a d gone as a b o y , u n t i l 412/11; P o l e m a r c h u s was
murdered
in
404;
and
the
best
evidence
suggests
that
P h a e d r u s was i n exile for the whole o f t h i s p e r i o d (see D o v e r
( 1 9 6 8 ) , 28 f f . ) . T h e r e i s , h o w e v e r , n o p a r t i c u l a r s i g n i f i c a n c e
in this for the interpretation o f the dialogue (pace Nussbaum,
96 - 7 ) ; P l a t o i s n o t o r i o u s l y l a x a b o u t s u c h m a t t e r s o f d a t i n g .
More important is the chronological relationship between
the
Phaedrus
and
Plato's
other
dialogues.
Essays
in
stylometric analysis generally suggest it to b e l o n g either with
the works of his later period, or with his later middle works;
b u t no analysis o f t h i s k i n d , h o w e v e r e x a c t i n g , is likely to
offer
a n y r e l i a b l e s o l u t i o n , s i n c e t h e Phaedrus
by
design
i n c l u d e s a w i d e variety
o f s t y l e s . We a r e t h e n t h r o w n b a c k o n
what we c a n d i s c o v e r t h r o u g h the comparative s t u d y o f
content
a n d h e r e t o o t h e Phaedrus
may be peculiarly difficult
to
handle. T h e s e are complex i s s u e s , w h i c h I have no space to
discuss i n detail here. I believe, however, that the following
propositions
are
defensible:
that the
Phaedrus
is certainly
later than the Republic and other middle dialogues like
the
Phaedo
a n d t h e Symposium;
certainly later than the
Timaeus;
possibly
or
probably
later
than
the
Parmenides9
the
Theaetetus9
the
Sophist
a n d the
Statesman;
and
probably
earlier than
the
Philebus.
Some o f the evidence for these
suggestions
will be
found implied i n various parts of
the
commentary; t h e i r net result would be to place the
Phaedrus
rather later than is commonly assumed, a n d relatively near the
end o f Plato's life. B u t for a direct treatment of these matters,
see m y f o r t h c o m i n g article ' T h e S t r u c t u r e a n d A r g u m e n t o f
1
P l a t o ' s Phaedrus ,
referred to i n the Bibliography.

5.

Notes o n the text,

translation and

some m a n u s c r i p t s ; a n d 'e', i n d i c a t i n g a r e a d i n g p r e f e r r e d b y
at least some e d i t o r s .
The
translation is intended to be accurate rather
than
e l e g a n t , a n d i n c o r p o r a t e s as l i t t l e i n t e r p r e t a t i o n as p o s s i b l e ;
more than
enough
interpretation
will be
discovered in
the
commentary. B y far the larger part o f the commentary will be
usable b y those without Greek. If Greek words or phrases
appear i n a note i n transliterated form, that i s i n t e n d e d to
indicate that t h e y are no b a r to the u n d e r s t a n d i n g o f the note
by the Greekless; actual Greek is included only where purely
textual or linguistic issues are being discussed.

commentary

The text printed is a modified version o f Burnet's Oxford

t e x t . T h e changes made are mostly ones s u g g e s t e d b y de V r i e s
in
his
excellent
commentary;
but
few
in
any
case
are
particularly
significant.
The
apparatus
is
reduced
to
an
absolute minimum, a n d its only real use is perhaps that it
allows some s a v i n g o f s p a c e i n the c o m m e n t a r y . O n l y t h r e e
sigla
are
used:
'm', indicating the
reading either
of
the
m a n u s c r i p t s g e n e r a l l y , o r o f what are c o u n t e d as the b e t t e r
manuscripts;
' n ' , i n d i c a t i n g a r e a d i n g c o n t a i n e d i n at
least
14

15

K e n n e d y , G . , T h e A r t of Persuasion
i n Greece ( L o n d o n , 1 9 6 3 ;
K o s m a n , L . A . , ' P l a t o n i c L o v e ' , i n Facets
of Plato's
Philosophy,,
e d . W . H . W e r k m e i s t e r ( A s s e n , 1 9 7 6 ) , 53 - 69
SELECT

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A c k r i l l , J . L . , r e v i e w o f H a c k f o r t h , M i n d 62 ( 1 9 5 3 ) , 2 7 7 - 9
Allen, M . J . B . ,
Marsilio Ficino and the P h a e d r a n
Charioteer
( B e r k e l e y a n d L o s A n g e l e s , 1981)
A n n a s , J u l i a , A n I n t r o d u c t i o n to Plato's
R e p u b l i c ( O x f o r d , 1981)
Burger,

R o n n a , Plato's
a r t of w r i t i n g

Phaedrus:
defense
( A l a b a m a , 1980)

Crombie, I . M . , A n Examination
I I ( L o n d o n , 1962 - 3)
Denniston, J . D . , T
Dimock, George . ,

h e Greek

of P l a t o s Doctrines,

Mackenzie, Mary Margaret,

Proceedings

philosophic
vols I

and

Particles

( 2 n d e d i t i o n , O x f o r d , 1959)
i n Lysias and Plato's
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of Philology
73 ( 1 9 5 2 ) , 381 - 96
and the I r r a t i o n a l ( B e r k e l e y a n d L o s

'

American Journal

of the

E . R . , T h e Greeks
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and the C o r p u s L y s i a c u m ( B e r k e l e y a n d L o s
A n g e l e s , 1968)
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Popular
M o r a l i t y i n the Time of Plato and
Aristotle
( O x f o r d , 1974)
D o v e r , K . J . , Greek
Homosexuality
( C a m b r i d g e , M a s s . , 1978)

Dodds,

Owen, G . E . L . ,
v o l s III -

Plato s
and commentary

P h a e d r u s , translated
with a n
(Cambridge,
1952)
Helmbold, W . C . , and Holther, W . B . , 'The Unity of the
Hackforth,

R.,

University

of California

Publications

14.9 ( B e r k e l e y a n d L o s A n g e l e s ,
Irwin, Terence,

dialogues

P l a t o ' s Moral
Theory:
( O x f o r d , 1977)
16

the early

387 -

and

Argument

Goodness

'Plato o n the Undepictable',

(see u n d e r M o r a v c s i k )

in

and

Understanding',

Exegesis

and

Philip, . ,
' R e c u r r e n c e s t h e m a t i q u e s et t o p o l o g i e d a n s l e P h e d r e
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de mitaphysique
et de morale 8 6 ( 1 9 8 1 ) ,
452 - 76

introduction
9

Phaedrus ,
Philology

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Phaedrus',
P h i l o l o g i c a l Society N . S .

i n Plato's

2 8 ( 1 9 8 2 ) , 64 - 7 6
Mill, J . S . ,
F o u r Dialogues
of Plato ( t r a n s l a t i o n s a n d c o n d e n s a t i o n s
with notes), edited with an introductory essay b y R u t h
B o r c h a r d t ( L o n d o n , 1946)
Moline, Jon,
' P l a t o o n t h e C o m p l e x i t y o f t h e P s y c h e ' , Archiv
fUr
Geschichte
der Philosophic
60 ( 1 9 7 8 ) , 1 - 26
M o o r e , J o h n D . , ' T h e R e l a t i o n b e t w e e n P l a t o ' s Symposium
and
Phaedrus9
, i n Patterns
i n P l a t o 9 s Thought,
ed. J.M.E.
M o r a v c s i k ( D o r d r e c h t a n d B o s t o n , 1 9 7 3 ) , 52 - 71 ( w i t h
c o m m e n t s b y J o h n D i l l o n , 72 - 7 7 )
Moravcsik, Julius,
'The Anatomy of Plato's D i v i s i o n s ' , i n
Exegesis
and Argument,
e d . E . N . Lee and others ( A s s e n , 1973),
349 - 61
M o r a v c s i k , J u l i u s , a n d T e m k o , P h i S p ( e d s ) , Plato on
Beauty,
Wisdom,
and the Arts ( T o t o w a , N e w J e r s e y , 1 9 8 2 )
M u r r a y , Penelope,
'Poetic Inspiration i n E a r l y Greece , Journal
of H e l l e n i c Studies
1 0 1 ( 1 9 8 1 ) , 87 - 1 0 0
Nussbaum, Martha Craven,
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in Moravcsik and Temko

1963)

Philosophy,

'Paradox

of the Cambridge

Ferrari, G . R . F . ,
Plato's FoHy (unpublished P h . D dissertation,
.
C a m b r i d g e , 1983)
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Social Values i n Classical
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( L o n d o n , 1976)
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H . G . , and Scott, R . , A G r e e k - E n g l i s h L e x i c o n , 9th

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1940) = L S J

417

middle

R o b i n , L . , P l a t o n , Oeuvres
Complites
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9
R o b i n s o n , T . M . , Plato s
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R o w e , C . J . , Plato
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17

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(2nd

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Philological

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1973)

ADDENDUM

Note Changes
to the
Oxford text
h a v e b e e n made i n
the
following places (changes i n punctuation, and i n the layout of
t h e t e x t , a r e e x c l u d e d f r o m t h e l i s t ) : 227 b 1 0 , 229 b 2 ,
232 b 7 , 233 b 6, e 7 , 234 c 5 , 235 a 2 , 236 c 3 , c 6, 238 a 3 , b 7,
2 3 9 a 6 , c 5 , 2 4 0 c 1 , 2 4 2 c 3 , 2 4 4 e 3 , 2 4 5 d 3 , e 1 , 2 4 7 b 1, b 4 ,
248 d 6, 250 a 7 , 252 b 4 , 253 c 3 , 256 c 4 - 5 ,
2 5 7 b 1, d 2 - 3 , d 9 - e 1, 2 5 8 a 1 - 2 , 2 6 0 a 9 , c 4 , c 1 0 , d 6 ,
2 6 6 d 7 , 2 6 8 a 2 , c 1, c 2 , 2 6 9 c 3 , 2 7 0 a 5 , d 6 , 2 7 2 b 3 , e 2 ,
274 c 6 , d 4 , 276 d 5 , 278 a 6, d 5 , 279 b 6.

1
18

st

in

p. 227

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S o c r a t e s : M y d e a r P h a e d r u s , w h e r e is it y o u ' r e g o i n g ,
and
w h e r e h a v e y o u come from?
Phaedrus: From Lysias, son of Cephalus, Socrates; and
I'm
g o i n g for a walk outside the wall, because I spent a l o n g time
s i t t i n g t h e r e , s i n c e s u n - u p . I'm d o i n g what y o u r f r i e n d
and
mine,
Acumenus,
advises,
and
taking my
walks along
the
c o u n t r y r o a d s ; he s a y s t h a t w a l k i n g h e r e is more r e f r e s h i n g
t h a n i n the colonnades
S . : H e ' s r i g h t i n s a y i n g s o , m y f r i e n d . So it seems L y s i a s was
in the c i t y .
P . : Y e s , at E p i c r a t e s ' h o u s e , t h e o n e M o r y c h u s u s e d t o l i v e
i n , near the temple o f Olympian Z e u s .
S.:
So t h e n how d i d y o u s p e n d y o u r time? O b v i o u s l y
Lysias
was f e a s t i n g y o u a l l w i t h his s p e e c h e s ?
P . : Y o u ' l l find out about t h a t , i f y o u have the leisure to walk
along and listen.
S . : What? Don't y o u t h i n k I shall be l i k e l y to r e g a r d it - to
q u o t e P i n d a r - as 'a t h i n g a b o v e e v e n want o f l e i s u r e ' , to h e a r
how y o u and L y s i a s spent y o u r time?
P.:
Well t h e n , lead o n .
S.:
Please tell me.
P . : Certainly,
S o c r a t e s , and it will be q u i t e a p p r o p r i a t e for
y o u t o h e a r , b e c a u s e t h e s p e e c h (logos)
o n w h i c h we were
s p e n d i n g our time was, I tell y o u , i n a certain sort o f way
about love.
Lysias has
r e p r e s e n t e d someone beautiful
being
propositioned, but
not
by a lover - indeed that's just
the
subtlety of his
i n v e n t i o n : he s a y s that f a v o u r s s h o u l d
be
g r a n t e d to a man who is not i n love r a t h e r t h a n to one who i s .
S . : How admirable of L y s i a s ! I o n l y w i s h he would write that
it s h o u l d be to a poor man r a t h e r t h a n a r i c h one, a n d
an
older rather than a younger man,
and all the other things
w h i c h b e l o n g t o me a n d t o most o f u s ; t h e n h i s s p e e c h e s w o u l d
i n d e e d b e u r b a n e , a n d f o r t h e c o m m o n g o o d . I f o r o n e am s o
eager to h e a r about i t , i n a n y case, that i f y o u r walk t a k e s

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y o u t o M e g a r a , a n d as H e r o d i c u s r e c o m m e n d s , y o u t o u c h t h e
w a l l w i t h y o u r foot a n d come b a c k a g a i n , I c e r t a i n l y w o n ' t be
left b e h i n d .
P . : S o c r a t e s , my good fellow, what do y o u mean? Do y o u t h i n k
t h a t I , a n a m a t e u r , w i l l be able to r e p e a t from m e m o r y i n a
way
worthy of
L y s i a s what he,
the
cleverest of
present
w r i t e r s , has
p u t t o g e t h e r at l e i s u r e o v e r a l o n g p e r i o d o f
time? F a r from i t ; t h o u g h I ' d l i k e to be a b l e t o , m o r e t h a n I
w o u l d to come i n t o a s t a c k o f m o n e y .
S . : P h a e d r u s - i f I don't know P h a e d r u s , I've even forgotten
who I am. B u t I d o , a n d I h a v e n ' t ; I know p e r f e c t l y well that
w h e n h e h e a r d L y s i a s ' s p e e c h (logos)
he d i d not h e a r it j u s t
o n c e , b u t r e p e a t e d l y a s k e d h i m t o go t h r o u g h ( l e g e i n ) i t
for
h i m , a n d L y s i a s r e s p o n d e d r e a d i l y . B u t for P h a e d r u s not e v e n
t h a t was e n o u g h , a n d i n the e n d he b o r r o w e d the book a n d
e x a m i n e d the t h i n g s i n it w h i c h h e was most e a g e r to look at,
a n d d o i n g t h i s he sat from s u n - u p , u n t i l he was t i r e d
and
w e n t f o r a w a l k , u n l e s s I am m u c h m i s t a k e n a c t u a l l y k n o w i n g
the
s p e e c h q u i t e o f f b y h e a r t , u n l e s s it was r a t h e r a l o n g
o n e ; a n d he was g o i n g o u t s i d e t h e w a l l to p r a c t i s e i t . Meeting!
a man
who is sipk with passion for h e a r i n g people speak
(logoi)
- s e e i n g h i m , s e e i n g , he was g l a d , because he w o u l d
have a companion i n his manic f r e n z y , and told him to lead o n .
B u t w h e n t h e o n e i n l o v e w i t h s p e e c h e s (logoi)
a s k e d him to
s p e a k , he p u t o n a p o s e , as i f not e a g e r t o s p e a k ; b u t
he
i n t e n d e d to s p e a k i n the e n d , e v e n i f he h a d to do so f o r c i b l y
to a n u n w i l l i n g l i s t e n e r . So y o u a s k h i m , P h a e d r u s , to do h e r e
a n d now what he w i l l s o o n do a n y w a y .
P.:
F o r me r e a l l y m u c h t h e b e s t t h i n g i s t o s p e a k j u s t a s I
c a n , s i n c e i t s e e m s t o me t h a t y o u d o n o t i n t e n d t o l e t me g o
u n t i l I s p e a k , somehow o r o t h e r .
S.:
Y o u have just the r i g h t i d e a about me.
P . : So t h a t ' s what I ' l l d o . N o t h i n g c o u l d be t r u e r , S o c r a t e s I d i d not l e a r n it w o r d for w o r d ; b u t I s h a l l r u n t h r o u g h the
p u r p o r t o f just about e v e r y t h i n g i n w h i c h he s a i d the s i t u a t i o n
of the l o v e r was different from that o f the n o n - l o v e r , g i v i n g a
s u m m a r y o f e a c h i n t u r n , b e g i n n i n g from the
first.
S . : Y e s , m y d e a r f e l l o w , a f t e r y o u ' v e first s h o w n me j u s t w h a t
i t i s y o u h a v e i n y o u r l e f t h a n d u n d e r y o u r c l o a k ; for I
suspect y o u have the speech itself. I f that's so, y o u must
a c c e p t m y p o s i t i o n , t h a t f o n d as I am o f y o u , i f L y s i a s i s a l s o
here,
I am n o t
really inclined
to o f f e r m y s e l f
to y o u
to
practise on.
Come now,
s h o w i t to
me.

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P . : S t o p . Y o u ' v e c h e a t e d me o f m y h o p e o f flexing m y m u s c l e s
5 o n y o u . Where w o u l d y o u l i k e us to sit d o w n a n d r e a d ?
229 S . : L e t ' s t u r n o f f h e r e a n d g o a l o n g t h e I l i s s u s ; t h e n w e ' l l s i t
down quietly wherever you think best.
P . : It s e e m s i t ' s j u s t as w e l l I h a p p e n e d t o b e b a r e f o o t ; y o u
always are.
S o we c a n v e r y e a s i l y go a l o n g t h e s t r e a m w i t h
5 our
feet
in
the
water;
and
it
w i l l not
be
unpleasant,
p a r t i c u l a r l y at t h i s t i m e o f y e a r a n d at t h i s t i m e o f d a y .
S . : So lead o n , and k e e p a lookout for a place for us to sit
down.
P . : Well t h e n , y o u see that v e r y t a l l p l a n e - t r e e ?
S.:
I do i n d e e d ,
b P . : T h e r e ' s shade and a moderate breeze t h e r e , and g r a s s to
sit o n , o r lie o n , i f we l i k e .
S.:
Please lead o n .
5 P . : T e l l me, S o c r a t e s , wasn't it from somewhere just h e r e that
B o r e a s i s s a i d to h a v e s e i z e d O r e i t h u i a from the I l i s s u s ?
S.:
Y e s , so i t ' s s a i d .
P . : W e l l , was it from h e r e ? T h e w a t e r o f the stream c e r t a i n l y
looks attractively p u r e and clear, and just right for y o u n g
girls to p l a y beside i t .
c S . : N o , it was from a p l a c e two o r t h r e e s t a d e s l o w e r d o w n ,
w h e r e o n e c r o s s e s o v e r to t h e d i s t r i c t o f A g r a ; a n d t h e r e
somewhere t h e r e is an altar of B o r e a s .
P . : I ' v e not r e a l l y n o t i c e d i t . B u t p l e a s e t e l l me, S o c r a t e s , f o r
5 g o o d n e s s s a k e , do y o u b e l i e v e t h i s f a i r y - t a l e to be t r u e ?
S.:
I f I d i s b e l i e v e d i t , l i k e t h e e x p e r t s , I w o u l d not
be
extraordinary; I might t h e n cleverly say that a blast o f Boreas
p u s h e d h e r d o w n from the n e a r b y r o c k s w h i l e s h e was p l a y i n g
w i t h P h a r m a c e i a , a n d t h a t w h e n s h e met h e r d e a t h i n t h i s w a y
d she was s a i d to h a v e b e e n s e i z e d b y B o r e a s - o r e l s e from the
A r e o p a g u s ; f o r t h i s a c c o u n t (logos)
is given (legein) too, that
it was from t h e r e a n d not from h e r e t h a t s h e was s e i z e d . B u t ,
P h a e d r u s , while I t h i n k s u c h explanations attractive i n other
respects,
they
b e l o n g i n my view to an o v e r - c l e v e r
and
5 l a b o r i o u s p e r s o n who i s not a l t o g e t h e r f o r t u n a t e ; j u s t b e c a u s e
a f t e r t h a t he m u s t set t h e s h a p e o f t h e C e n t a u r s to r i g h t s ,
a n d a g a i n t h a t o f t h e C h i m a e r a , a n d a mob o f s u c h t h i n g s 1

*-

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230

).

e Gorgons
and
Pegasuses
and
strange
hordes
of
other
intractable and portentous k i n d s of creatures flock i n o n him;
i f someone is sceptical about t h e s e , and t r i e s to r e d u c e each to
what is l i k e l y , with his boorish k i n d o f e x p e r t i s e , he'll need a
good d e a l o f l e i s u r e . F o r m y s e l f , i n no w a y do I h a v e l e i s u r e
5 for these t h i n g s , and the reason for i t , my f r i e n d , is t h i s . I
am n o t y e t c a p a b l e , i n a c c o r d a n c e w i t h t h e D e l p h i c i n s c r i p t i o n ,
230 o f ' k n o w i n g m y s e l f ; i t t h e r e f o r e s e e m s a b s u r d t o me t h a t w h i l e
I am s t i l l i g n o r a n t o f t h i s s u b j e c t I s h o u l d i n q u i r e i n t o t h i n g s
w h i c h do not b e l o n g to me. So t h e n s a y i n g g o o d b y e to t h e s e
t h i n g s , and b e l i e v i n g what is commonly t h o u g h t about t h e m , I
i n q u i r e - as I s a i d j u s t now - not i n t o t h e s e b u t i n t o m y s e l f ,
t o s e e w h e t h e r I am a c t u a l l y a b e a s t m o r e c o m p l e x a n d m o r e
5 violent than T y p h o n , or both a tamer and a simpler creature,
s h a r i n g some d i v i n e a n d u n - T y p h o n i c p o r t i o n b y n a t u r e . B u t ,
my f r i e n d , to i n t e r r u p t o u r c o n v e r s a t i o n (logoi), wasn't t h i s
the t r e e y o u were t a k i n g us to?
b P . : The v e r y one.
S . : B y H e r a , a fine s t o p p i n g - p l a c e ! T h i s p l a n e - t r e e i s v e r y
spreading and
tall, and
the taliness and shadiness o f
the
5 agnus are q u i t e lovely; and b e i n g i n full flower it seems to
m a k e t h e p l a c e s m e l l as s w e e t l y as it c o u l d . T h e s t r e a m , t o o ,
flows
very
attractively under the
plane, with the
coolest
w a t e r , to judge b y my foot. From the
figurines
and statuettes,
t h e s p o t seems to be s a c r e d to some N y m p h s a n d to A c h e l o u s .
c T h e n a g a i n , i f y o u l i k e , how welcome it i s , the f r e s h n e s s o f
the
place,
and
v e r y pleasant; it echoes with a summery
s h r i l l n e s s to the cicadas' s o n g . Most d e l i g h t f u l o f all i s
the
matter of the
g r a s s , growing o n a gentle slope and
thick
5 e n o u g h to be just r i g h t to r e s t one's head u p o n . So y o u h a v e
been the best of guides for a s t r a n g e r , my d e a r P h a e d r u s .
P . : Y o u e x t r a o r d i n a r y m a n - y o u s t r i k e me a s t h e o d d e s t
p e r s o n . Y o u r e a l l y do seem l i k e a s t r a n g e r o n a v i s i t , as y o u
d say,
a n d not a l o c a l ; t h i s comes o f y o u r n e i t h e r l e a v i n g t h e
c i t y to c r o s s the b o r d e r s , n o r , I t h i n k , g o i n g o u t s i d e the wall
at a l l .
S.:
F o r g i v e me,
my good man.
Y o u see,
I'm a l o v e r o f
l e a r n i n g , a n d t h e c o u n t r y p l a c e s a n d t h e t r e e s w o n ' t t e a c h me
5 a n y t h i n g , as t h e p e o p l e i n t h e c i t y w i l l . B u t y o u seem to h a v e
f o u n d t h e p r e s c r i p t i o n t o get me o u t . J u s t l i k e p e o p l e w h o l e a d
h u n g r y animals o n b y s h a k i n g a b r a n c h o r some v e g e t a b l e i n
f r o n t o f t h e m , s o y o u s e e m t o b e c a p a b l e o f l e a d i n g me r o u n d
e all Attica and
wherever
else y o u please b y p r o f f e r i n g
me
s p e e c h e s (logoi)
i n b o o k s i n t h i s w a y . I n a n y c a s e , now t h a t

27

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w e ' v e got h e r e , I t h i n k I'm g o i n g to l i e d o w n f o r t h e p r e s e n t ,

a n d y o u choose whatever pose y o u t h i n k easiest for r e a d i n g ,
and read.
5 P . : Then listen.
' Y o u know how matters are with me, a n d y o u h a v e h e a r d
me s a y h o w I t h i n k i t i s t o o u r a d v a n t a g e t h a t t h i s s h o u l d
231 h a p p e n ; a n d I c l a i m t h a t I s h o u l d n o t f a i l t o a c h i e v e w h a t I
a s k because I h a p p e n not to be i n l o v e with y o u . T h o s e i n
love repent o f t h e s e r v i c e s t h e y do w h e n t h e i r d e s i r e ceases;
t h e r e is no time appropriate for repentance for the o t h e r s . F o r
t h e y r e n d e r services with r e g a r d to t h e i r o w n capacity to
5 r e n d e r t h e m , not u n d e r compulsion but o f t h e i r o w n c h o o s i n g ,
i n the w a y i n w h i c h t h e y would best look after t h e i r o w n
affairs. A g a i n , those who are i n love c o n s i d e r the damage t h e y
d i d to t h e i r o w n interests
because of their love and the
services they have performed, and adding i n the labour they
b put i n t h e y t h i n k t h e y have l o n g since g i v e n r e t u r n enough to
t h e objects o f t h e i r l o v e ; whereas t h o s e not i n l o v e cannot
allege neglect o f t h e i r o w n interests because o f i t , nor r e c k o n
5 up their past labours, nor complain o f t h e i r quarrels
with
t h e i r r e l a t i v e s ; so that w i t h a l l t h e s e t r o u b l e s r e m o v e d t h e r e is
n o t h i n g left b u t to p e r f o r m e a g e r l y w h a t e v e r actions t h e y
t h i n k will please the other p a r t y . A g a i n , i f it i s r i g h t to put a
c h i g h value o n those i n love, because they say they show the
greatest degree o f affection to those t h e y love, and are ready
to s a y a n d to do what will i n c u r t h e enmity o f e v e r y o n e else,
i f it pleases their b e l o v e d , it is easy to see, i f t h e y are telling
5 the t r u t h , that they will put a higher value o n anyone they
fall i n love w i t h later t h a n o n t h e m , a n d c l e a r too that t h e y
d w i l l maltreat t h e m , i f t h e i r new l o v e r e q u i r e s i t . What i s m o r e ,
how i s i t r e a s o n a b l e to g i v e a w a y s u c h a t h i n g to someone who
has
an
affliction
of such a kind,
which no person
with
e x p e r i e n c e o f it would e v e n t r y to a v e r t ? F o r t h e y themselves
agree that they are sick rather than i n their right mind, and
that t h e y know that t h e y are out o f t h e i r m i n d , but cannot
c o n t r o l themselves.; s o h o w , w h e n t h e y come to t h e i r s e n s e s .
5 could t h e y a p p r o v e o f the decisions t h e y make w h e n i n t h i s
c o n d i t i o n ? M o r e o v e r , i f y o u w e r e to choose the best out o f
t h o s e i n l o v e w i t h y o u , y o u r c h o i c e w o u l d b e o n l y from a f e w .
w h i l e i f y o u chose t h e most c o n g e n i a l to y o u out o f t h e r e s t , it
e would be from m a n y ; so that y o u would have a m u c h greater
expectation of c h a n c i n g o n the man w o r t h y o f y o u r affection,
among the many.
'Now i f y o u are afraid of established convention, that i f
p e o p l e f i n d out y o u w i l l be s u b j e c t to c e n s u r e , t h e l i k e l i h o o d
29

233

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232 i s t h a t t h o s e i n l o v e ,
t h i n k i n g they would be envied b y
e v e r y o n e e l s e , too, just as t h e y e n v y t h e m s e l v e s , will be o n
tiptoe with t a l k i n g about it and boastfully display to all a n d
s u n d r y that t h e y have not laboured i n v a i n ; whereas those not
5 i n love, who are i n control o f themselves, will choose what i s
best rather than to have people t h i n k highly o f them. A n d
a g a i n , those i n love are b o u n d to be heard about and seen
following t h e i r l o v e d ones a n d m a k i n g t h i s t h e i r b u s i n e s s , so
b that when they are seen i n conversation with each other,
people t h i n k that they are together i n the context of passion
spent o r soon to be spent; whereas those not i n love no one
e v e n t r i e s to blame f o r t h e i r b e i n g t o g e t h e r , s i n c e t h e y k n o w
that it i s n e c e s s a r y to t a l k to someone, either because o f
5 f r i e n d s h i p o r for the sake o f the enjoyment o f something else.
Moreover, i f y o u are frightened b y the thought that it is
difficult
for affection to l a s t , a n d that while u n d e r
other
circumstances the occurrence of a q u a r r e l is a misfortune
c s h a r e d b y both parties, it is o n y o u that great i n j u r y would
be i n f l i c t e d , i f y o u h a v e g i v e n a w a y what y o u v a l u e most - i n
that case y o u s h o u l d fear those i n love more, for there are
many things that cause them p a i n , and e v e r y t h i n g ,
they
t h i n k , i s d o n e i n o r d e r t o i n f l i c t i n j u r y o n t h e m . It i s f o r t h i s
5 v e r y r e a s o n t h a t t h e y d i v e r t t h e i r loved ones from a s s o c i a t i n g
with o t h e r s , f e a r i n g that those who possess wealth will outdo
them w i t h t h e i r m o n e y , a n d t h a t the e d u c a t e d w i l l come o f f
better
i n terms of intellect; and they are on their guard
d against the potential influence o f each o f those who possess
some o t h e r a d v a n t a g e .
S o b y p e r s u a d i n g y o u to become an
object o f d i s l i k e to these p e o p l e , t h e y p u t y o u i n a p o s i t i o n
where y o u are without friends, and i f you consider y o u r own
i n t e r e s t a n d s h o w more s e n s e t h a n t h e m , y o u will come i n t o
5 conflict w i t h t h e m ; whereas those who h a p p e n e d not to be i n
love, b u t a c h i e v e d what t h e y a s k e d t h r o u g h m e r i t , would not
begrudge
those
who
associate
with
the
objects
of their
a t t e n t i o n s , b u t would hate those who d i d not w i s h to do s o ,
t h i n k i n g that they were b e i n g looked down on b y the latter,
but helped b y the presence of the former, so that there is a
e much greater expectation that the other party will gain friends
t h a n enemies from t h e a f f a i r .
'Moreover, many of those i n love desire a person's body
5 before they know his ways and gain experience of the other
aspects o f his p e r s o n a l i t y , so that it i s u n c l e a r to them i f t h e y
w i l l s t i l l want f r i e n d s h i p to c o n t i n u e w h e n t h e i r d e s i r e c e a s e s ;

232 b 7 (> e
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233 w h e r e a s f o r t h o s e n o t i n l o v e , s i n c e t h e y w e r e f r i e n d s w i t h
each other even before they d i d what they d i d , the things
from w h i c h t h e y benefit are not l i k e l y to make t h e i r f r i e n d s h i p
5 l e s s , b u t r a t h e r to r e m a i n as memorials o f t h i n g s s t i l l to c o m e .
M o r e o v e r , y o u s h o u l d become a b e t t e r p e r s o n b y l i s t e n i n g to
me t h a n t o a l o v e r . F o r t h e y p r a i s e w o r d s a n d a c t i o n s e v e n i f
b it means d i s r e g a r d i n g what i s b e s t , i n part because t h e y are
afraid to i n c u r dislike, i n part because t h e i r own judgment i s
w e a k e n e d as a r e s u l t o f t h e i r d e s i r e . F o r s u c h a r e the w a y s
that love displays itself: i f they are u n s u c c e s s f u l , it makes
them r e g a r d as d i s t r e s s i n g the s o r t s o f t h i n g s w h i c h cause
pain
to no one else;
i f they
are
successful, under
its
5 c o m p u l s i o n e v e n t h i n g s w h i c h o u g h t not to g i v e p l e a s u r e r e c e i v e
p r a i s e from them, so t h a t i t i s m u c h more f i t t i n g f o r t h e i r
l o v e d ones to p i t y t h a n to want to emulate t h e m . B u t i f y o u
l i s t e n t o m e , i n t h e first p l a c e I s h a l l a s s o c i a t e w i t h y o u w i t h
c a n eye not to present p l e a s u r e , b u t also to the benefit which
i s t o c o m e , b e c a u s e I am n o t o v e r c o m e b y l o v e , b u t m a s t e r o f
myself, not s t a r t i n g violent hostilities because o f small t h i n g s ,
but
feeling slight anger
slowly because
of large things,
5 forgiving
the
unintentional
and
trying
to
prevent
the
intentional; for these are signs o f a friendship which will last
for a long time. B u t i f , after a l l , y o u have the thought that
s t r o n g affection cannot o c c u r unless a man is actually i n love,
d y o u s h o u l d bear i n mind that i n that case we would not value
our
sons
or
fathers
or
mothers,
nor
would
we
have
t r u s t w o r t h y friends, who are the product not o f desire o f this
sort but of practices of a different k i n d .
5
' A n d a g a i n , i f we s h o u l d g r a n t f a v o u r s most to t h o s e who
n e e d them most, t h e n t h e r e s t o f m a n k i n d too o u g h t to b e n e f i t
not the best people b u t the most h e l p l e s s ; f o r since t h e y have
b e e n r e l e a s e d from the greatest s u f f e r i n g s , t h e y will be the
most g r a t e f u l to t h e i r b e n e f a c t o r s . What i s m o r e , w h e n i t
e comes to p r i v a t e e x p e n d i t u r e t o o , it w i l l be r i g h t f o r them to
i n v i t e not t h e i r f r i e n d s , b u t those who b e g for t h e i r s h a r e a n d
those who need filling u p ; for they will treat their benefactors
f o n d l y , a t t e n d o n t h e m , c a l l at t h e i r d o o r s , b e most d e l i g h t e d ,
5 feel b y no means t h e least g r a t i t u d e , p r a y f o r many b l e s s i n g s
for t h e m . Y e t r a t h e r p e r h a p s one ought to grant f a v o u r s not
to t h o s e w h o s t a n d i n great n e e d o f t h e m , b u t to those w h o
a r e most able to make a r e t u r n ; not to those who are m e r e l y i n

33

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234 l o v e w i t h y o u , b u t t h o s e w h o d e s e r v e t h e t h i n g y o u h a v e t o
give; not to those who will take advantage o f y o u r youthful
b e a u t y , b u t those who are o f the sort to s h a r e t h e i r o w n
a d v a n t a g e s w i t h y o u w h e n y o u become o l d e r ; not to those who
will boast o f h a v i n g a c h i e v e d t h e i r aim to e v e r y o n e e l s e , b u t
5 the sort o f people who will say n o t h i n g to a n y o n e , out o f a
s e n s e o f shame; not to those who a r e d e v o t e d to y o u f o r a
short time, but those whose friendship for y o u will remain
u n a l t e r e d t h r o u g h o u t t h e i r whole l i f e ; not to the sort who will
l o o k f o r a n e x c u s e f o r b e i n g at o d d s w i t h y o u w h e n t h e i r
b desire ceases, but those who will display their own qualities
just w h e n y o u have ceased to be i n the prime o f y o u t h . So I
say to y o u : remember what has been s a i d , and bear i n mind
that their friends admonish those i n love because they regard
what t h e y d o as b a d , w h e r e a s t h o s e not i n l o v e h a v e n e v e r
5 b e e n blamed b y a n y o f those close to them for m a k i n g b a d
decisions o n that score about their own interests.
' Y o u will p e r h a p s ask me, t h e n , i f I advise y o u to grant
favours to a l l those who are not i n love with y o u . I for my
p a r t t h i n k that not e v e n the man who was i n love with y o u
c would tell y o u to t a k e t h i s attitude to a l l those who w e r e . F o r
n e i t h e r w o u l d it merit e q u a l g r a t i t u d e from the r e c e i v e r , n o r
would i t be p o s s i b l e f o r y o u to k e e p t h i n g s secret
from
e v e r y o n e e l s e i n t h e same w a y , i f y o u w i s h e d to do s o ; b u t
from the t h i n g no h a r m s h o u l d come, o n l y benefit to b o t h
5 parties. So t h e n I t h i n k I have said enough; but i f y o u miss
s o m e t h i n g w h i c h y o u t h i n k h a s b e e n left o u t , a s k i t .
How does t h e s p e e c h seem to y o u , S o c r a t e s ? D o e s n ' t i t
seem t o y o u to b e e x t r a o r d i n a r i l y w e l l d o n e , e s p e c i a l l y i n i t s
language?
dS.:
S u p e r h u m a n l y , i n f a c t , m y f r i e n d ; e n o u g h t o m a k e me
beside myself. A n d it was because o f y o u , P h a e d r u s , that I
f e l t a s I d i d , a s I l o o k e d a t y o u , b e c a u s e y o u s e e m e d t o me t o
b e p o s i t i v e l y b e a m i n g w i t h d e l i g h t at t h e s p e e c h a s y o u r e a d
i t ; f o r I followed y o u r l e a d , i n the t h o u g h t that y o u are more
5 o f an e x p e r t about s u c h t h i n g s than me, a n d I joined i n the
ecstasy with y o u r inspired self.
P . : Q u i t e s o . D o y o u mean to joke about it l i k e t h i s ?
S.:
D o I r e a l l y seem to y o u to b e j o k i n g a n d not s e r i o u s ?
e P . : Don't do that,
S o c r a t e s ; t e l l me r e a l l y , i f y o u ' r e m y
friend,
do y o u t h i n k a n y other G r e e k would have different
t h i n g s from t h e s e to s a y , w h i c h w e r e w e i g h t i e r a n d more i n
n u m b e r , about the same matter?
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5 S . : What? Should y o u a n d I also praise the speech o n the

g r o u n d s that its creator has s a i d what he s h o u l d , a n d not just
because he has said t h i n g s clearly a n d i n a w e l l - r o u n d e d
fashion, and each and all of his words are precisely turned? I f
we s h o u l d , I m u s t go a l o n g w i t h y o u f o r y o u r s a k e , s i n c e at
235 a n y r a t e I m i s s e d i t , t h r o u g h m y f e e b l e n e s s ; f o r I w a s o n l y
p a y i n g attention to the r h e t o r i c a l aspect o f i t . I n t h i s o t h e r
respect,
I d i d not t h i n k e v e n L y s i a s himself thought
the
s p e e c h good e n o u g h ; a n d i n fact he seemed to me, P h a e d r u s ,
u n l e s s y o u d i s a g r e e w i t h m e , to h a v e s a i d t h e same t h i n g s t w o
5 o r t h r e e times o v e r , as i f he wasn't altogether well o f f so f a r
as c o n c e r n s s a y i n g m a n y t h i n g s a b o u t t h e same s u b j e c t , o r
else p e r h a p s b e c a u s e he d i d n ' t c a r e at a l l about t h i s s o r t o f
t h i n g ; i n d e e d h e s e e m e d t o me t o b e b e h a v i n g w i t h a y o u t h f u l
s w a g g e r , s h o w i n g o f f h i s a b i l i t y t o s a y t h e same t h i n g s i n t w o
different w a y s , a n d say them excellently either w a y .
bP.:
You're talking nonsense,
Socrates; the v e r y t h i n g y o u
mention i s i n fact the main feature o f the s p e e c h . N o t h i n g
w a i t i n g i n the subject to b e e x p r e s s e d i n a way w o r t h y o f i t
has b e e n left o u t , so that no one could e v e r say t h i n g s i n
5 greater q u a n t i t y o r o f greater value t h a n he has s a i d .
S . : I shan't be able to a g r e e w i t h y o u about t h a t ; I shall b e
refuted b y men a n d women of a n t i q u i t y a n d wisdom who have
spoken and written about the subject, i f I agree i n o r d e r to
please y o u .
c P . : Who a r e these people? A n d w h e r e h a v e y o u h e a r d a n y t h i n g
better than this?
S . : A t the moment I can't s a y , j u s t l i k e t h a t , b u t I must h a v e
h e a r d s o m e t h i n g , p e r h a p s from t h e e x c e l l e n t S a p p h o , o r t h e
w i s e A n a c r e o n , o f i n d e e d some p r o s e - w r i t e r s . O n w h a t g r o u n d s
5 do I s a y t h i s ? M y breast i s f u l l , i f I may s a y s o , m y
fine
fellow,
a n d m a k e s me f e e l I c o u l d s a y t h i n g s w h i c h
are
d i f f e r e n t f r o m w h a t L y s i a s s a y s , a n d n o w o r s e . - I am w e l l
aware that none o f them has i t s source i n my o w n m i n d ,
because I know my own ignorance; the only alternative, I
d t h i n k , i s t h a t I h a v e b e e n filled u p t h r o u g h m y e a r s , l i k e a
v e s s e l , from someone else's s t r e a m s . B u t d u l l n e s s a g a i n h a s
m a d e me f o r g e t j u s t h o w I h e a r d i t a n d f r o m w h o m .
5 P . : A d m i r a b l e ! I d o l i k e w h a t y o u ' v e s a i d . D o n ' t y o u t e l l me
from whom y o u h e a r d i t a n d h o w , e v e n i f I p r e s s y o u , b u t d o
just as y o u s a y : y o u ' v e p r o m i s e d to s a y different t h i n g s w h i c h

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a r e b e t t e r a n d no f e w e r i n q u a n t i t y t h a n what i s i n t h e b o o k ,
k e e p i n g a w a y from t h a t ; I i n m y t u r n promise y o u , l i k e the
n i n e a r c h o n s , t o s e t u p a g o l d e n s t a t u e o f e q u a l w e i g h t at
D e l p h i - not o n l y one o f me, but also one o f y o u .
S . : Y o u are a v e r y dear man, P h a e d r u s , a friend really worth
y o u r w e i g h t t o me i n g o l d , i f y o u t h i n k I m e a n t h a t L y s i a s h a s
c o m p l e t e l y m i s s e d t h e m a r k , a n d t h a t I'm a c t u a l l y a b l e to s a y
things which are
different
from
e v e r y t h i n g he s a y s ;
that
c o u l d n ' t , I t h i n k , h a p p e n e v e n to the worst w r i t e r . T o b e g i n
w i t h , o n the subject o f the s p e e c h , who do y o u t h i n k , i f he i s
s a y i n g that one s h o u l d grant favours to the n o n - l o v e r r a t h e r
t h a n t h e l o v e r , c a n omit to p r a i s e t h e g o o d s e n s e o f the
one
and
censure the
lack of sense of the other, these being
indispensable points, and then have something other than that
to s a y ? I n my view s u c h points must be allowed, and
one
s h o u l d be f o r g i v e n for m a k i n g them; with s u c h t h i n g s , what
should
be
praised is
not
so
much the
i n v e n t i o n as
the
a r r a n g e m e n t , w h e r e a s w i t h t h i n g s t h a t a r e not e s s e n t i a l , a n d
d i f f i c u l t t o i n v e n t , w e s h o u l d p r a i s e t h e i n v e n t i o n as w e l l a s
the arrangement.
P . : I a g r e e w i t h y o u what y o u s a y ; it seems a reasonable
statement. So f o r my p a r t , I ' l l b e h a v e l i k e t h i s : I ' l l allow y o u
to make it an assumption that the man i n l o v e i s more s i c k
t h a n the man not i n l o v e ; but w h e n y o u ' v e made a s p e e c h
d i f f e r e n t from L y s i a s ' i n a l l o t h e r r e s p e c t s , w h i c h contains
more and of greater v a l u e , t h e n y o u ' l l s t a n d i n hammered metal
b e s i d e t h e v o t i v e o f f e r i n g o f t h e C y p s e l i d s at O l y m p i a .
S . : H a v e y o u b e e n t a k i n g me s e r i o u s l y , P h a e d r u s , b e c a u s e I
made my t e a s i n g attack o n y o u r d a r l i n g ? D o y o u t h i n k I would
r e a l l y t r y to say something different, o f g r e a t e r v a r i e t y , to
set beside his wisdom?
P . : H e r e , m y f r i e n d , I c a n r e a l l y get to g r i p s w i t h y o u . Y o u
absolutely must speak, i n whatever way y o u can, to avoid our
b e i n g f o r c e d to b e h a v e i n the v u l g a r w a y we see o n the comic
stage, exchanging jibes; watch out,
and don't deliberately
m a k e me g i v e y o u a ' S o c r a t e s , i f I d o n ' t k n o w S o c r a t e s , I ' v e
e v e n f o r g o t t e n w h o I a m ' , o r a 'he w a n t e d to s p e a k , b u t
put
o n a pose'. J u s t make u p y o u r mind that we won't leave this
spot u n t i l y o u say what y o u were claiming y o u had ' i n y o u r
b r e a s t ' . W e ' r e a l o n e i n a d e s e r t e d p l a c e , a n d I am s t r o n g e r
a n d y o u n g e r t h a n y o u ; from a l l o f w h i c h ' g r a s p the m e a n i n g o f
m y w o r d s ' , a n d d o n ' t b e i n c l i n e d to p r e f e r to b e f o r c e d to
s p e a k t h a n to do it v o l u n t a r i l y .

236 c 2 n , e
38

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5 S.:
But,
Phaedrus,
you
lucky
fellow,
I
shall
be
a
l a u g h i n g - s t o c k i f I i m p r o v i s e as a l a y m a n i n c o m p e t i t i o n w i t h
an e x p e r t c r a f t s m a n on the same s u b j e c t s .
P . : I w a r n y o u , s t o p b e i n g c o y w i t h me. I ' v e got s o m e t h i n g t o
s a y w h i c h w i l l p r e t t y well force y o u to s p e a k .
S.:
T h e n don't say i t .
P . : N o , I s h a l l ; a n d i t ' l l be an o a t h . I s w e a r to y o u - but b y
e w h o m , b y w h i c h god? What about t h i s p l a n e - t r e e h e r e ? - I
swear that i f you don't make y o u r speech i n its v e r y presence
I s h a n ' t d i s p l a y o r r e p o r t to y o u a n y s p e e c h o f a n y o n e ' s e v e r
again.
S.:
Y o u d e v i l , y o u ! How c l e v e r l y y o u ' v e f o u n d the w a y to
5 f o r c e a l o v e r o f s p e e c h e s to do what y o u t e l l h i m .
P . : So w h y go o n t w i s t i n g a n d t u r n i n g ?
S . : Not a n y l o n g e r , now t h a t y o u ' v e s w o r n t h a t . How w o u l d I
be able to k e e p m y s e l f a w a y from feasts of t h a t s o r t ?
237 P .
Speak then.
S.:
Do y o u know what I shall do, then?
P . : About what?
S . : I shall speak w i t h my head c o v e r e d , so t h a t I can r u s h
5 t h r o u g h m y s p e e c h as q u i c k l y as I c a n a n d not l o s e m y w a y
t h r o u g h s h a m e , f r o m l o o k i n g at y o u .
P . : J u s t s p e a k ; f o r t h e r e s t , d o as y o u l i k e .
S . : Come t h e n , y o u M u s e s , c l e a r - v o i c e d ( l i g e i a i ) , w h e t h e r y o u
are called that from the n a t u r e o f y o u r s o n g , o r w h e t h e r y o u
acquired
this
name
because
of the
musical race of
the
10 L i g u r i a n s , ' t a k e p a r t w i t h me i n t h e s t o r y w h i c h t h i s e x c e l l e n t
b f e l l o w h e r e f o r c e s me t o t e l l , s o t h a t h i s f r i e n d , w h o s e e m e d t o
h i m to be w i s e e v e n b e f o r e , may seem e v e n m o r e so n o w .
O n c e u p o n a t i m e , t h e n , t h e r e was a b o y , o r r a t h e r a
y o u n g l a d , a n d v e r y b e a u t i f u l he was; a n d he h a d a l a r g e
n u m b e r o f l o v e r s . A n d one o f them was c u n n i n g ,
because
a l t h o u g h he was as m u c h i n l o v e as a n y o f t h e m , he
had
5 c o n v i n c e d t h e b o y t h a t he was not i n l o v e w i t h h i m . A n d o n c e
i n p r e s s i n g his claims he t r i e d to c o n v i n c e him o f j u s t t h i s ,
t h a t one o u g h t to g r a n t f a v o u r s to t h e man who was not i n
l o v e r a t h e r t h a n to t h e man i n l o v e ; a n d he s p o k e l i k e t h i s :
'In e v e r y t h i n g , my b o y , t h e r e is one s t a r t i n g - p o i n t for
c anyone who is g o i n g to deliberate s u c c e s s f u l l y : he must know
what it i s he i s d e l i b e r a t i n g a b o u t , o r he w i l l i n e v i t a b l y m i s s
e v e r y t h i n g . Most p e o p l e a r e u n a w a r e t h a t t h e y do not k n o w
what e a c h t h i n g r e a l l y i s . So t h e y fail to r e a c h agreement
a b o u t i t at t h e b e g i n n i n g o f t h e i r e n q u i r y , a s s u m i n g t h a t t h e y
k n o w what it i s , a n d h a v i n g p r o c e e d e d o n t h i s b a s i s t h e y p a y
5 the
penalty
one
would
expect:
they agree neither
with
t h e m s e l v e s n o r w i t h e a c h o t h e r . S o let u s , y o u a n d I , a v o i d
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h a v i n g h a p p e n t o u s w h a t w e find f a u l t w i t h i n o t h e r s : s i n c e
t h e q u e s t i o n b e f o r e y o u a n d me i s w h e t h e r o n e s h o u l d r a t h e r
e n t e r i n t o f r i e n d s h i p w i t h l o v e r o r n o n - l o v e r , let u s e s t a b l i s h
an a g r e e d definition o f love, about what sort o f t h i n g it i s and
what p o w e r it p o s s e s s e s ,
a n d look to t h i s as o u r p o i n t o f
reference
while
we make o u r
enquiry whether
it
brings
a d v a n t a g e o r h a r m . Well t h e n , t h a t l o v e i s some s o r t o f d e s i r e
is c l e a r to e v e r y o n e ; a n d a g a i n we k n o w that men d e s i r e the
b e a u t i f u l e v e n i f t h e y are not i n l o v e . B y what t h e n s h a l l we
d i s t i n g u i s h t h e m a n i n l o v e a n d t h e m a n w h o i s n o t ? We m u s t
next observe that i n each o f us there are two k i n d s of t h i n g
w h i c h r u l e a n d l e a d u s , w h i c h we follow w h e r e v e r t h e y m a y
lead, the one an i n b o r n desire for pleasures, another
an
a c q u i r e d j u d g e m e n t w h i c h aims at t h e b e s t . T h e s e two t h i n g s
i n us are sometimes i n a c c o r d , b u t t h e r e a r e times w h e n t h e y
a r e at v a r i a n c e ; a n d sometimes t h e o n e , at o t h e r times t h e
second has c o n t r o l . Now w h e n judgement leads u s b y means o f
reason towards the best and i s i n control, its control o v e r us
has t h e name o f r e s t r a i n t ; w h e n d e s i r e d r a g s u s i r r a t i o n a l l y
towards pleasures a n d rules i n u s , i t s r u l e i s called b y the
name o f e x c e s s . E x c e s s i s s o m e t h i n g w h i c h has many names,
for i t has many limbs a n d many forms; a n d w h i c h e v e r o f these
forms h a p p e n s to s t a n d o u t i n a n y case, i t g i v e s i t s p o s s e s s o r
its own name, which i s neither an admirable one n o r w o r t h the
a c q u i s i t i o n . When i t i s i n c o n n e c t i o n w i t h food that d e s i r e has
achieved control over both reasoning for the best and the
other d e s i r e s , it is called g l u t t o n y , a n d will give its possessor
t h i s same name; a g a i n , w h e n i t h a s a c h i e v e d t h e t y r a n n y i n
c o n n e c t i o n w i t h d r i n k , l e a d i n g t h e man who has i t i n t h i s
d i r e c t i o n , i t i s p l a i n what a p p e l l a t i o n he w i l l r e c e i v e ; a n d as
for the o t h e r r e l a t e d names, o f r e l a t e d d e s i r e s , we c a n see
a l r e a d y t h a t he w i l l b e called b y t h e a p p r o p r i a t e o n e , w h a t e v e r
d e s i r e h a p p e n s at a n y t i m e t o b e i n p o w e r . A s f o r t h e d e s i r e
for the sake o f which a l l the f o r e g o i n g has been s a i d , it i s
already p r e t t y evident what one s h o u l d s a y ; but e v e r y t h i n g i s
perhaps clearer when said t h a n when u n s a i d : the i r r a t i o n a l
desire which has gained c o n t r o l o v e r judgement w h i c h u r g e s a
man t o w a r d s the r i g h t , b o r n e t o w a r d s p l e a s u r e i n b e a u t y , a n d
w h i c h i s forcefully r e i n f o r c e d b y the desires related to it i n
its p u r s u i t o f bodily beauty, overcoming them i n its course,
a n d t a k e s i t s n a m e f r o m i t s v e r y f o r c e (rhome)
- this is called
love ( e r o s ) .
Well t h e n , m y d e a r P h a e d r u s , d o y o u t h i n k , as I d o
m y s e l f , that s o m e t h i n g m o r e t h a n h u m a n has h a p p e n e d to me?

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P . : I agree, Socrates, that you've been seized b y a

fluency
greater than normal,
d S . : T h e n h e a r me i n s i l e n c e . F o r t h e s p o t s e e m s r e a l l y t o b e a
d i v i n e one, so that i f p e r h a p s I become p o s s e s s e d b y n y m p h s
as m y s p e e c h p r o c e e d s , d o n o t b e s u r p r i s e d ; as i t i s I ' m
a l r e a d y close to u t t e r i n g i n d i t h y r a m b s .
P.: Very true.
5 S . : F o r that y o u ' r e r e s p o n s i b l e . B u t listen to what r e m a i n s ;
p e r h a p s the t h r e a t may be a v e r t e d . H o w e v e r , t h a t w i l l be a
m a t t e r f o r g o d ; w e m u s t go b a c k t o t h e b o y w i t h o u r s p e e c h .

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'Well t h e n , my
fine
f r i e n d : we h a v e s t a t e d , t h e n ,
and
defined what it r e a l l y i s that y o u must deliberate a b o u t ; a n d
so
looking
towards that
let
us
say,
for the
rest,
what
a d v a n t a g e o r h a r m will be l i k e l y to t u r n out f o r the p e r s o n
granting
favours,
from
lover
and
non-lover.
Now it
is
n e c e s s a r i l y the case, I s u p p o s e , that the man who is r u l e d b y
d e s i r e a n d e n s l a v e d t o p l e a s u r e w i l l m a k e t h e o n e he l o v e s as
p l e a s i n g t o h i m s e l f as p o s s i b l e ; a n d t o a s i c k m a n a n y t h i n g
w h i c h d o e s not
resist him is pleasant, a n y t h i n g w h i c h
is
s t r o n g e r t h a n he i s , o r e q u a l to h i m , i s h a t e f u l . So a l o v e r
w i l l not w i l l i n g l y put u p w i t h h i s b e l o v e d ' s b e i n g s t r o n g e r t h a n
him o r m a t c h i n g h i m , b u t a l w a y s t r i e s to make him w e a k e r a n d
i n f e r i o r ; and an ignorant man is weaker t h a n a wise one,
a
coward t h a n a b r a v e man, a poor speaker than an expert i n
r h e t o r i c , a slow-witted man t h a n a q u i c k one. When all these
faults and more besides make t h e i r appearance o r are present
b y nature i n the mind of a loved one, a lover will necessarily
delight
i n these and
procure others, or
else he
will
be
d e p r i v e d o f what is immediately p l e a s a n t . N e c e s s a r i l y , t h e n , he
w i l l be jealous, and b y k e e p i n g him from many o t h e r forms o f
a s s o c i a t i o n , o f a b e n e f i c i a l k i n d , w h i c h w o u l d most make a man
o f h i m , he w i l l b e a c a u s e o f g r e a t h a r m to h i m ; a n d
the
g r e a t e s t h a r m he w i l l c a u s e w i l l be b y k e e p i n g him from that
a s s o c i a t i o n from w h i c h h i s wisdom w o u l d be most i n c r e a s e d .
T h i s is that d i v i n e t h i n g , p h i l o s o p h y , from w h i c h the
lover
will necessarily keep his beloved far away, out o f a d r e a d o f
b e i n g d e s p i s e d ; a n d he w i l l c o n t r i v e i n e v e r y t h i n g else that he
s h o u l d be i n complete i g n o r a n c e and completely dependent o n
h i s l o v e r , w h i c h i s t h e c o n d i t i o n i n w h i c h he w i l l o f f e r most
p l e a s u r e to t h e o t h e r , but most h a r m to h i m s e l f . S o , i n r e s p e c t
o f t h e m i n d , t h e r e i s n o p r o f i t at a l l i n a m a n as g u a r d i a n a n d
p a r t n e r i f he is i n l o v e .
' W h a t w e m u s t l o o k at a f t e r t h i s i s t h e c o n d i t i o n o f t h e
b o d y and its treatment: what sort o f p h y s i c a l condition will the
man who is u n d e r c o m p u l s i o n to p u r s u e p l e a s u r e i n p r e f e r e n c e
t o g o o d aim t o p r o d u c e i n t h e p e r s o n u n d e r h i s c h a r g e , a n d
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what t y p e o f treatment will he a p p l y ? He will be seen p u r s u i n g

someone soft r a t h e r t h a n t o u g h , b r o u g h t u p i n a s h a d o w e d
light rather than i n the full light o f the s u n , unversed i n
manly exertions and h a r s h , sweated labour, but fully v e r s e d
i n a soft a n d effeminate w a y o f life, d e c k i n g himself out i n
borrowed colours and ornaments
for
lack of his o w n , and
r e s o r t i n g to a l l t h e o t h e r p r a c t i c e s that go a l o n g w i t h t h e s e ,
w h i c h a r e o b v i o u s a n d a r e not w o r t h l i s t i n g f u r t h e r , b u t w i l l
allow u s to go o n to a n o t h e r matter after we h a v e l a i d d o w n
one summary point: a b o d y i n s u c h a condition is one that i n
war
a n d i n o t h e r times o f great c r i s i s g i v e s heart to
the
enemy, a n d creates alarm i n one's f r i e n d s , a n d i n one's l o v e r s
themselves.
' T h i s t h e n , w e s h o u l d d i s m i s s as o b v i o u s , a n d p a s s o n to
the next p o i n t : what advantage o r what harm to us i n respect
of o u r possessions the society a n d g u a r d i a n s h i p o f the man i n
l o v e w i l l b r i n g . T h i s at l e a s t i s c l e a r e n o u g h t o e v e r y o n e , a n d
especially to the l o v e r : that he would p r a y above a l l for the
o n e he l o v e s to be b e r e f t o f h i s d e a r e s t a n d b e s t - i n t e n t i o n e d
a n d most d i v i n e p o s s e s s i o n s ; f o r h e w o u l d b e h a p p y f o r h i m to
be
d e p r i v e d o f father
and mother,
relations and
friends,
t h i n k i n g them l i k e l y to p r e v e n t a n d c e n s u r e t h e most pleasant
intercourse
he
has
with
him. Further,
i f his loved
one
possesses
property,
i n the
form
of
gold
or any
other
p o s s e s s i o n , h e w i l l t h i n k h i m n e i t h e r as e a s y t o c a t c h n o r a s
manageable o n c e c a u g h t ; as a r e s u l t t h e r e i s e v e r y n e c e s s i t y
that the lover should begrudge his beloved his possession o f
p r o p e r t y , a n d delight i i j his loss o f i t . So too the l o v e r would
pray
that
his
beloved
should
be
without
wife,
without
c h i l d r e n , without home f o r t h e longest p o s s i b l e time, because
h e d e s i r e s to r e a p t h e s w e e t n e s s o f h i s o w n e n j o y m e n t f o r as
l o n g as p o s s i b l e .
' T h e r e are i n d e e d other t h i n g s to be a v o i d e d , but w i t h
most o f t h e m some d i v i n e a g e n c y m i x e s a p l e a s u r e o f t h e
moment: so i n the f l a t t e r e r , a formidable beast a n d a s o u r c e o f
great h a r m , nature has mixed i n a certain pleasure which is
n o t e n t i r e l y g r o s s ; a n d o n e m i g h t o b j e c t to a c o u r t e s a n as
something harmful, and many other similar creatures and their
p r a c t i c e s , w h i c h h a v e t h e f e a t u r e o f b e i n g v e r y p l e a s a n t , at
least to meet t h e n e e d s o f t h e d a y ; b u t f o r t h e b e l o v e d t h e
l o v e r i s the least pleasant o f a l l t h i n g s to s p e n d the d a y w i t h ,
i n addition to his harmfulness.
A s the p r o v e r b goes, "the
y o u n g delight the y o u n g " - for I suppose the match between
t h e i r ages d r a w s them to m a t c h i n g p l e a s u r e s a n d so makes them
f r i e n d s o n the g r o u n d s o f l i k e n e s s - yet a l l t h e same e v e n
t h e s e a r e b o u n d to h a v e e n o u g h o f b e i n g t o g e t h e r . What i s
47

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iv ,

5 m o r e , i n e v e r y s p h e r e w h a t i s c o m p u l s o r y i s s a i d to
be
o p p r e s s i v e to e v e r y o n e ; a n d t h i s i s e s p e c i a l l y p r e s e n t i n the
r e l a t i o n o f l o v e r to b e l o v e d , i n a d d i t i o n to t h e i r d i s s i m i l a r i t y .
T h e o l d e r man d o e s not w i l l i n g l y let t h e y o u n g e r o n e l e a v e h i s
d company b y day o r b y n i g h t , but is d r i v e n b y a frenzied
compulsion
which
draws him on
by
g i v i n g him
continual
p l e a s u r e s , as he s e e s , h e a r s , t o u c h e s , e x p e r i e n c e s h i s l o v e d
one t h r o u g h a l l the s e n s e s , so that p l e a s u r e makes him p r e s s
5 h i s s e r v i c e s o n h i m ; b u t as f o r h i s l o v e d o n e , w h a t k i n d o f
solace o r what p l e a s u r e s w i l l he g i v e h i m , a n d so p r e v e n t him
when
he i s w i t h him o v e r a n e q u a l p e r i o d o f time
from
e x p e r i e n c i n g e x t r e m e d i s g u s t , as he sees a face w h i c h i s o l d
and past its p r i m e , and w i t h e v e r y t h i n g else that follows o n
e t h a t , w h i c h it i s no p l e a s u r e e v e n to h e a r t a l k e d a b o u t , let
a l o n e to b e c o n t i n u a l l y c o m p e l l e d as w e l l to d e a l w i t h t h e m i n
p r a c t i c e ; w h e n he i s g u a r d e d s u s p i c i o u s l y a l l t h e time a n d i n
all his r e l a t i o n s h i p s ; a n d w h e n he h e a r s h i m s e l f p r a i s e d to
e x c e s s a n d at t h e w r o n g t i m e s , a n d r e p r o a c h e d i n j u s t
the
5 same w a y , w h i c h i s i n t o l e r a b l e w h e n his l o v e r is s o b e r , but
s h a m i n g as w e l l as i n t o l e r a b l e w h e n h e i s d r u n k a n d s p e a k i n g
with an unrestrained and barefaced licence?
'While he i s i n l o v e he i s p e r n i c i o u s a n d u n p l e a s a n t , w h e n
he c e a s e s to be i n l o v e , he i s u n t r u s t w o r t h y f o r t h e
future,
10 f o r w h i c h h e
promised many t h i n g s , with many oaths
and
241 e n t r e a t i e s , a n d
so b a r e l y h e l d t h e
o t h e r one to b e a r
his
c o m p a n y t h e n , p a i n f u l as i t w a s , t h r o u g h h o p e o f g o o d s to
come. N o w ,
w h e n he
s h o u l d be p a y i n g what he o w e s ,
he
changes i n himself and adopts a different ruler and master,
s e n s e a n d s a n i t y i n place o f love and m a d n e s s , and has become
a
different
person
without his beloved's realising i t .
His
5 b e l o v e d demands a r e t u r n from the l o v e r for f a v o u r s done i n
the p a s t , r e m i n d i n g him o f what was s a i d a n d d o n e t h e n ,
t h i n k i n g t h a t he i s t a l k i n g to the same man; w h i l e the o t h e r
t h r o u g h shame cannot b r i n g himself to s a y that he has become
a d i f f e r e n t p e r s o n , n o r is he a b l e to make good the o a t h s a n d
b p r o m i s e s o f his p r e v i o u s m i n d l e s s r e g i m e , h a v i n g now r e g a i n e d
h i s m i n d a n d come to h i s s e n s e s ; i f he d i d the same t h i n g s as
his p r e v i o u s s e l f d i d , he w o u l d become l i k e that s e l f a g a i n ,
t h e same p e r s o n . S o as a r e s u l t o f t h i s he becomes a f u g i t i v e ,
and compelled to default, this former lover changes direction
5 and l a u n c h e s himself i n t o flight w i t h the flip o f the s h e r d o n
to i t s o t h e r s i d e ; a n d t h e o t h e r i s c o m p e l l e d to r u n a f t e r h i m ,
a n g r i l y i n v o k i n g the g o d s , t o t a l l y u n a w a r e from the b e g i n n i n g
t h a t i n fact he o u g h t n e v e r to h a v e g r a n t e d f a v o u r s to a man

49

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c who is i n love and therefore necessarily mindless, but much

r a t h e r to a man w h o i s not i n love a n d i s i n p o s s e s s i o n o f h i s
mind;
and
that otherwise he is n e c e s s a r i l y
surrendering
himself
to
someone
untrustworthy,
peevish,
jealous,
d i s a g r e e a b l e , h a r m f u l to h i s p r o p e r t y , h a r m f u l to h i s p h y s i c a l
5 c o n d i t i o n , b u t b y f a r most h a r m f u l to the e d u c a t i o n o f h i s
soul, than which i n t r u t h there neither is nor ever will be
a n y t h i n g more valuable i n the eyes either o f men o r o f g o d s .
So these, my b o y , are the t h i n g s y o u must bear i n m i n d , a n d
y o u m u s t u n d e r s t a n d t h a t t h e a t t e n t i o n s o f a l o v e r d o n o t come
d w i t h goodwill; n o , like food, f o r the p u r p o s e o f f i l l i n g u p - as
wolves love lambs, so i s l o v e r s affection for a b o y .
T h e r e , P h a e d r u s , i t ' s as I s a i d it would b e . Y o u ' l l hear
n o t h i n g more t h a n t h a t from me; p l e a s e let m y s p e e c h e n d
here.
P . : B u t I t h o u g h t i t was just i n the m i d d l e , a n d w o u l d go o n
5 to s a y an e q u a l amount about the n o n - l o v e r , to the effect that
one s h o u l d r a t h e r grant him f a v o u r s , mentioning all the good
t h i n g s he has o n h i s s i d e ; w h y t h e n a r e y o u s t o p p i n g as y o u
are?
eS.:
H a v e n ' t y o u n o t i c e d , my d e a r fellow, t h a t I'm a l r e a d y
u t t e r i n g epic v e r s e s , a n d not dithyrambs now, even t h o u g h
I'm p l a y i n g t h e c r i t i c ? W h a t d o y o u t h i n k I ' U p r o d u c e i f I
b e g i n p r a i s i n g the o t h e r man? D o y o u know that I ' l l p a t e n t l y
be possessed b y the N y m p h s to whom y o u d e l i b e r a t e l y e x p o s e d
5 me? S o i n a w o r d I s a y t h a t t h e o t h e r m a n h a s t h e g o o d p o i n t s
w h i c h are opposed to all the t h i n g s for which we've abused the
f i r s t . A n d w h y i n d e e d make a long speech o f it? E n o u g h has
been s a i d about b o t h . So i n that case my s t o r y will fare just
242 a s i t s h o u l d ; a s f o r m e , I ' m o f f a c r o s s t h e r i v e r h e r e b e f o r e
y o u f o r c e me i n t o s o m e t h i n g w o r s e .
P . : D o n ' t go y e t , S o c r a t e s ; n o t u n t i l t h e h e a t o f t h e d a y h a s
p a s s e d . D o n ' t y o u see t h a t i t ' s j u s t about m i d d a y , ( ? ) t h e time
5 w h e n we s a y e v e r y t h i n g comes to a s t o p ? L e t ' s wait a n d
discuss what's been s a i d , a n d then we'll go, when its cooler.
S . : Y o u ' v e a s u p e r h u m a n c a p a c i t y w h e n i t comes to s p e e c h e s ,
P h a e d r u s ; you're simply amazing. O f the speeches which there
b have been d u r i n g y o u r lifetime,
I think that no one
has
brought more into existence than y o u , either b y m a k i n g them
y o u r s e l f o r b y f o r c i n g o t h e r s to make them, i n one w a y o r
another.
Simmias the T h e b a n i s the one e x c e p t i o n ; the rest
y o u b e a t b y a l o n g w a y . J u s t s o , n o w , y o u s e e m t o me t o
5 h a v e become the cause o f my m a k i n g a s p e e c h .
P . : No b a d t h i n g ! B u t how do y o u mean? What s p e e c h i s t h i s ?

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S . : When I was a b o u t to c r o s s the r i v e r , m y good m a n , I h a d

t h a t s u p e r n a t u r a l e x p e r i e n c e , t h e s i g n w h i c h I am a c c u s t o m e d
t o h a v i n g - o n e a c h o c c a s i o n , y o u u n d e r s t a n d , i t h o l d s me
b a c k f r o m w h a t e v e r I am a b o u t t o d o - a n d I s e e m e d t o h e a r a
v o i c e f r o m t h e v e r y s p o t , w h i c h f o r b i d s me t o l e a v e u n t i l I
h a v e made e x p i a t i o n , b e c a u s e I h a v e committed an
offence
a g a i n s t w h a t b e l o n g s t o t h e g o d s . W e l l , I am a s e e r ; n o t a
v e r y g o o d o n e , b u t l i k e p e o p l e w h o a r e p o o r at r e a d i n g a n d
writing,
merely good e n o u g h for my o w n p u r p o s e s ; so I
a l r e a d y clearly u n d e r s t a n d what my offence i s . F o r the fact i s ,
my f r i e n d , t h a t the s o u l too i s s o m e t h i n g w h i c h has d i v i n a t o r y
p o w e r s ; f o r s o m e t h i n g c e r t a i n l y t r o u b l e d me s o m e w h i l e a g o a s
I was
making the
speech, and I had a certain feeling of
u n e a s e , as I b y c u s s a y s ( i f I r e m e m b e r r i g h t l y ) ,
'that
for
offences against the
g o d s , I w i n r e n o w n from a l l my fellow
men .
B u t now J r e a l i s e m y o f f e n c e .
P . : J u s t what do y o u mean?
S . : A d r e a d f u l 'speech it was, P h a e d r u s , d r e a d f u l , b o t h the
o n e y o u b r o u g h t w i t h y o u , a n d t h e o n e y o u c o m p e l l e d me t o
make.
P . : H o w so?
S . : It w a s f o o l i s h a n d s o m e w h a t i m p i o u s ; w h a t s p e e c h c o u l d b e
more dreadful than that?
P . : None, i f you're right i n what you say.
S . : What? D o n ' t y o u t h i n k L o v e to be the s o n o f A p h r o d i t e ,
and a god?
P . : So it i s s a i d .
S . : N o t I t h i n k b y L y s i a s , at a n y r a t e , n o r b y y o u r s p e e c h ,
w h i c h came from my m o u t h , b e w i t c h e d as it was b y y o u . B u t i f
L o v e i s , as i n d e e d he i s , a g o d , o r s o m e t h i n g d i v i n e , he c o u l d
not be a n y t h i n g e v i l ; whereas the two r e c e n t s p e e c h e s s p o k e
o f him as i f he w e r e l i k e t h a t . So t h i s was t h e i r o f f e n c e i n
r e l a t i o n to L o v e , a n d b e s i d e s t h e i r f o o l i s h n e s s was r e a l l y q u i t e
refined
parading
themselves
as
if
they
were
worth
something, while actually s a y i n g n o t h i n g healthy o r t r u e , i n
c a s e t h e y w o u l d d e c e i v e some p o o r s p e c i m e n s o f h u m a n i t y a n d
w i n p r a i s e from t h e m . So I , my f r i e n d , must p u r i f y m y s e l f ,
and for those who offend i n the telling o f stories t h e r e is an
ancient
method
of
purification,
which
Homer
did
not
u n d e r s t a n d , but S t e s i c h o r u s d i d . F o r w h e n he was d e p r i v e d of
his s i g h t b e c a u s e of his l i b e l against H e l e n , he d i d not fail to
recognise the
r e a s o n , l i k e Homer; because he was a t r u e
follower of the M u s e s , he k n e w i t , and immediately composed
the v e r s e s
' T h i s tale I t o l d i s false. T h e r e i s no d o u b t :
Y o u made no j o u r n e y i n the w e l l - d e c k e d s h i p s
N o r v o y a g e d to the c i t a d e l o f T r o y . '
1

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A n d a f t e r c o m p o s i n g t h e w h o l e o f t h e s o - c a l l e d Palinode
h e at
o n c e r e g a i n e d h i s s i g h t . So I s h a l l follow a w i s e r c o u r s e t h a n
Stesichorus and Homer i n just this respect: I shall t r y to
r e n d e r m y p a l i n o d e t o L o v e b e f o r e a n y t h i n g h a p p e n s t o me
because o f m y l i b e l against h i m , w i t h m y head b a r e , a n d not
c o v e r e d as i t w a s b e f o r e , f o r s h a m e .
P . : T h a t , S o c r a t e s , i s the most d e l i g h t f u l t h i n g y o u c o u l d
have said to me.
S . : Y e s , my good P h a e d r u s , f o r y o u see how shameless the
speeches were, this second one a n d the one which was read
from t h e b o o k . I f we w e r e b e i n g l i s t e n e d to b y someone o f a
noble a n d gentle c h a r a c t e r who was i n l o v e w i t h someone else
o f t h e same s o r t , o r else h a d e v e r b e e n i n l o v e w i t h someone
l i k e that before, a n d he h e a r d us s a y i n g that l o v e r s start
large-scale hostilities because o f small t h i n g s , and adopt a
jealous and harmful attitude towards t h e i r b e l o v e d , s u r e l y y o u
t h i n k he would suppose himself to be l i s t e n i n g to people who
had perhaps been brought u p among sailors, a n d who had
never witnessed a love o f the sort that belongs to free men,
a n d w o u l d be f a r from a g r e e i n g w i t h t h e t h i n g s we f i n d t o
blame i n L o v e ?
P . : V e r y p r o b a b l y , Socrates, he would.
S . : T h e n out o f shame for what t h i s man would t h i n k , a n d out
o f f e a r o f L o v e h i m s e l f , I f o r m y p a r t am a n x i o u s t o w a s h o u t
t h e b i t t e r t a s t e , as i t w e r e , o f t h e t h i n g s we h a v e h e a r d s a i d
w i t h a wholesome s p e e c h ; a n d I a d v i s e L y s i a s too to put i t i n
w r i t i n g as q u i c k l y as p o s s i b l e t h a t o n e s h o u l d g r a n t f a v o u r s t o
t h e l o v e r r a t h e r t h a n to t h e man w h o i s not i n l o v e , i n r e t u r n
for favours r e c e i v e d .
P . : Y o u c a n b e s u r e that t h a t ' s how i t will b e : o n c e y o u h a v e
given y o u r praise of the l o v e r , there will be e v e r y necessity
f o r L y s i a s t o b e c o m p e l l e d b y me t o w r i t e a s p e e c h i n h i s t u r n
o n t h e same s u b j e c t .
S . : T h a t I q u i t e b e l i e v e , so l o n g as y o u r e m a i n the man y o u
are.
P . : T h e n y o u can give y o u r speech with full confidence.
S . : Where t h e n i s that b o y I was t a l k i n g to? I want him to
h e a r t h i s t o o ; i f he d o e s n ' t , he m a y go a h e a d a n d
grant
favours to the n o n - l o v e r before we c a n stop h i m .
P . : H e r e he i s r i g h t n e x t to y o u , w h e n e v e r y o u want him
there.
S.:
'Well t h e n , my b e a u t i f u l b o y , y o u s h o u l d u n d e r s t a n d t h i s
that the p r e v i o u s speech belonged to P h a e d r u s s o n o f
P y t h o c l e s , o f t h e deme M y r r h i n o u s ; w h i l e t h e o n e I am g o i n g
t o m a k e b e l o n g s t o S t e s i c h o r u s s o n o f E u p h e m u s , o f H i m e r a . It
55

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56

m u s t go l i k e t h i s : " t h e s t o r y i s n o t t r u e " , i f i t s a y s t h a t w h e n
a l o v e r i s t h e r e f o r the" h a v i n g o n e
should rather grant
f a v o u r s to the
man
who i s not i n l o v e w i t h y o u , o n
the
g r o u n d s that the one is mad, while the o t h e r is sane. T h a t
w o u l d be r i g h t l y s a i d , i f it w e r e a simple t r u t h t h a t m a d n e s s
i s an e v i l : b u t as it i s the
g r e a t e s t o f g o o d s come to
us
t h r o u g h madness, p r o v i d e d that it is bestowed b y divine gift.
The
p r o p h e t e s s at
Delphi
and
the
p r i e s t e s s e s at
Dodona
achieve much that is good for Greece when mad, both o n a
private and on a public level, whereas when sane they achieve
l i t t l e o r n o t h i n g ; a n d i f we s p e a k o f t h e S i b y l a n d o f o t h e r s
who b y means o f i n s p i r e d p r o p h e c y foretell m a n y t h i n g s to
m a n y p e o p l e a n d set them o n the r i g h t t r a c k w i t h r e s p e c t to
the f u t u r e , we w o u l d s p i n t h e s t o r y out b y s a y i n g t h i n g s t h a t
are o b v i o u s to e v e r y o n e . B u t it i s w o r t h w h i l e to a d d u c e the
point t h a t among the a n c i e n t s too those who g a v e t h i n g s t h e i r
names d i d not r e g a r d m a d n e s s as s h a m e f u l o r a m a t t e r f o r
r e p r o a c h ; o t h e r w i s e t h e y w o u l d not h a v e c o n n e c t e d t h i s v e r y
word with the finest o f the sciences, that b y which the future
i s j u d g e d , a n d named it " m a n i c " . N o , t h e y g a v e it t h i s name
thinking
madness
a
fine
thing,
when
it
comes
by
divine
dispensation;
w h e r e a s p e o p l e now
crudely throw
in
the
extra
t
and
call
it
"mantic".
So
too
when
the a n c i e n t s g a v e a name to the i n v e s t i g a t i o n w h i c h s a n e men
make of the
future b y means o f b i r d s and the o t h e r s i g n s
which
they
use,
they
called
it " o i o n o i s t i c " ,
because
its
proponents in a
rational way
provide insight
(nous)
and
information (historia)
f o r h u m a n t h i n k i n g (oiesis);
while
the
modern
generation
now
c a l l it " o i o n i s t i c " ,
m a k i n g it
more
h i g h - s o u n d i n g w i t h the long o. So t h e n the ancients testify to
the fact that g o d - s e n t m a d n e s s i s a f i n e r t h i n g t h a n man-made
s a n i t y , b y the degree that mantic is a more perfect and more
valuable thing than oionistic,
b o t h w h e n name is m e a s u r e d
against name, a n d w h e n effect is m e a s u r e d against effect. B u t
again, i n the
case o f the greatest maladies and
sufferings,
w h i c h o c c u r i n c e r t a i n families
from some ancient c a u s e s o f
divine
anger,
madness
comes about i n them a n d
acts
as
interpreter,
finding
the n e c e s s a r y means o f r e l i e f , b y r e c o u r s e
to p r a y e r s a n d forms o f s e r v i c e to the g o d s ; as a r e s u l t o f
w h i c h it h i t s u p o n s e c r e t r i t e s o f p u r i f i c a t i o n a n d p u t s
the
m a n w h o i s t o u c h e d b y it o u t o f d a n g e r b o t h f o r t h e p r e s e n t
and for the f u t u r e , so
finding
a r e l e a s e from h i s p r e s e n t e v i l s
for the one who is r i g h t l y m a d d e n e d a n d p o s s e s s e d . A t h i r d
k i n d o f p o s s e s s i o n a n d m a d n e s s comes from t h e M u s e s : t a k i n g

57

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58

a t e n d e r , v i r g i n s o u l , a n d a r o u s i n g it to a B a c c h i c f r e n z y o f
expression m
lyric and
o t h e r forms of p o e t r y it educates
succeeding generations by glorifying myriad deeds of those of
t h e p a s t ; w h i l e t h e m a n w h o a r r i v e s at t h e d o o r s o f p o e t r y
w i t h o u t m a d n e s s from the M u s e s , p e r s u a d e d that e x p e r t i s e w i l l
m a k e h i m a g o o d p o e t , b o t h he a n d h i s p o e t r y , t h e p o e t r y o f
the
sane,
are eclipsed b y that o f the mad,
imperfect
and
unfulfilled.
A l l t h e s e a n d s t i l l m o r e a r e t h e fine a c h i e v e m e n t s w h i c h I
am a b l e t o r e l a t e t o y o u o f m a d n e s s w h i c h c o m e s f r o m
the
g o d s . So let u s h a v e no f e a r s a b o u t t h a t , a n d let u s not
be
alarmed
by
any
argument that t r i e s to
frighten
us
into
s u p p o s i n g t h a t w e s h o u l d p r e f e r t h e s a n e m a n as f r i e n d t o t h e
o n e w h o i s d i s t u r b e d ; let i t c a r r y o f f t h e p r i z e o f v i c t o r y o n l y
i f it has s h o w n t h i s too - that love is not sent from the gods
f o r t h e b e n e f i t o f l o v e r a n d b e l o v e d . We i n o u r t u r n m u s t
p r o v e the r e v e r s e , that s u c h m a d n e s s is g i v e n b y the gods to
allow us to a c h i e v e the greatest good f o r t u n e ; and the
proof
will be disbelieved b y the c l e v e r , believed b y the wise.
'Well t h e n : f i r s t , we must c o m p r e h e n d the t r u t h about the
nature
of
soul,
both
divine
and
human,
by
observing
e x p e r i e n c e s and actions b e l o n g i n g to i t ; and the b e g i n n i n g o f
our proof is this.
. ' A l l soul
is
immortal.
For
that
which
is
always
in
movement is immortal; that w h i c h moves something else a n d i s
m o v e d b y s o m e t h i n g e l s e , i n c e a s i n g from movement, ceases
from l i v i n g . O n l y t h a t w h i c h m o v e s i t s e l f , b e c a u s e i t d o e s not
a b a n d o n i t s e l f , n e v e r s t o p s m o v i n g . It i s also s o u r c e a n d
first
p r i n c i p l e o f movement for the o t h e r t h i n g s w h i c h move. A
first
p r i n c i p l e i s s o m e t h i n g w h i c h d o e s not come i n t o b e i n g . F o r a l l
t h a t comes i n t o b e i n g must come i n t o b e i n g from
a
first
principle, but a
first
p r i n c i p l e i t s e l f c a n n o t come i n t o b e i n g
f r o m a n y t h i n g at a l l ; f o r i f a first p r i n c i p l e c a m e i n t o b e i n g
f r o m a n y t h i n g , i t w o u l d n o t d o s o f r o m a first p r i n c i p l e . S i n c e
it d o e s not come i n t o b e i n g , i t m u s t a l s o be s o m e t h i n g w h i c h
d o e s n o t p e r i s h . F o r i f a first p r i n c i p l e i s d e s t r o y e d , n e i t h e r
w i l l it e v e r come i n t o b e i n g from a n y t h i n g n o r a n y t h i n g else
from i t , g i v e n t h a t a l l t h i n g s m u s t come i n t o b e i n g from a
first
p r i n c i p l e . It i s i n t h i s w a y , t h e n , t h a t t h a t w h i c h m o v e s i t s e l f
i s first p r i n c i p l e o f m o v e m e n t . It i s not p o s s i b l e f o r t h i s e i t h e r
to be d e s t r o y e d o r to come i n t o b e i n g , o r e l s e t h e
whole
u n i v e r s e and
the
whole o f that w h i c h comes to be
might
c o l l a p s e t o g e t h e r a n d c o m e to a h a l t , a n d n e v e r a g a i n h a v e
a s o u r c e from w h i c h t h i n g s w i l l come to be m o v e d . A n d s i n c e
that w h i c h is m o v e d b y i t s e l f has b e e n s h o w n to be i m m o r t a l ,
it w i l l i n c u r no s h a m e to s a y t h a t t h i s i s t h e e s s e n c e a n d t h e
59

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-j

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b .

5 d e f i n i t i o n o f s o u l . F o r a l l b o d y w h i c h has its s o u r c e o f motion

o u t s i d e i t s e l f is s o u l l e s s , whereas that w h i c h has it within
itself and
from i t s e l f i s e n s o u l e d , t h i s b e i n g t h e n a t u r e o f
s o u l ; a n d i f t h i s i s so - that that w h i c h moves i t s e l f is n o t h i n g
246 o t h e r t h a n s o u l ,
s o u l will be n e c e s s a r i l y something
which
n e i t h e r comes i n t o b e i n g n o r d i e s .

,
-

' A b o u t its immortality, t h e n , e n o u g h has been s a i d ; about

i t s form we m u s t s a y t h e f o l l o w i n g . T o s a y what k i n d o f t h i n g
it is would r e q u i r e a l o n g e x p o s i t i o n , and one calling
for
u t t e r l y s u p e r h u m a n p o w e r s ; to s a y what it resembles r e q u i r e s
a shorter one,
a n d o n e w i t h i n h u m a n c a p a c i t i e s . So let
us
speak i n the latter w a y . Let it t h e n resemble the
combined
p o w e r o f a w i n g e d team o f h o r s e s and t h e i r c h a r i o t e e r . Now i n
the case o f g o d s , h o r s e s and charioteers are all b o t h good and
of good stock; whereas i n the
case of the rest t h e r e is a
m i x t u r e . In the
first
place o u r d r i v e r has c h a r g e of a p a i r ;
s e c o n d l y o n e o f t h e m h e finds n o b l e a n d g o o d , a n d o f s i m i l a r
s t o c k , while the other is of the opposite stock, and opposite i n
its
n a t u r e ; so that the
d r i v i n g i n o u r case is necessarily
difficult
and
t r o u b l e s o m e . How t h e n it is t h a t some l i v i n g
c r e a t u r e s a r e c a l l e d m o r t a l a n d some i m m o r t a l , we m u s t now
t r y to s a y . A l l s o u l has the c a r e o f a l l that i s s o u l l e s s , a n d
ranges about the
whole u n i v e r s e , c o m i n g to be now i n one
f o r m , now i n a n o t h e r . Now w h e n it i s p e r f e c t l y w i n g e d , it
t r a v e l s above the e a r t h and g o v e r n s the whole cosmos; but
the
one that has lost its w i n g s i s swept a l o n g u n t i l it l a y s hold o f
something solid, where it settles down, t a k i n g o n an
earthy
b o d y , w h i c h seems to move i t s e l f b e c a u s e o f the p o w e r o f s o u l ,
and the whole is called a l i v i n g creature, soul and body
fixed
t o g e t h e r , a n d a c q u i r e s the name " m o r t a l " ; immortal it i s not,
on
the
basis of any
argument
which
has
been
reasoned
through,
but
because
we
have
not
seen
or
adequately
conceived of a god
we imagine a k i n d o f immortal
living
c r e a t u r e w h i c h has b o t h a s o u l and a b o d y , combined for a l l
t i m e . B u t let t h i s , a n d o u r a c c o u n t o f i t , b e as i s p l e a s i n g t o
g o d ; let u s g r a s p t h e r e a s o n f o r t h e l o s s o f w i n g s - w h y t h e y
f a l l f r o m a s o u l . It i s s o m e t h i n g l i k e t h i s .
' T h e n a t u r a l p r o p e r t y o f a w i n g i s to c a r r y w h a t i s h e a v y
u p w a r d s , l i f t i n g it aloft to the r e g i o n w h e r e t h e r a c e o f the
g o d s r e s i d e s , a n d i n a w a y , o f a l l t h e t h i n g s b e l o n g i n g to the
s p h e r e o f the b o d y , it has the g r e a t e s t s h a r e i n the d i v i n e ,
the d i v i n e b e i n g noble, g o o d , and e v e r y t h i n g w h i c h is o f that
k i n d ; so it is b y t h e s e t h i n g s that the plumage o f the soul is
most n o u r i s h e d a n d i n c r e a s e d , w h i l e t h e s h a m e f u l , t h e b a d a n d
i n g e n e r a l t h e o p p o s i t e s o f t h e o t h e r t h i n g s m a k e it w a s t e
a w a y a n d p e r i s h . F i r s t i n the h e a v e n s t r a v e l s Z e u s , the great
61

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5 leader, driving a winged chariot, putting all things i n order

a n d c a r i n g for a l l ; after him t h e r e follows a n a r m y o f gods a n d
247 d i v i n i t i e s , o r d e r e d i n e l e v e n c o m p a n i e s . F o r H e s t i a r e m a i n s i n
the house o f the gods alone; o f the r e s t , all those who have
t h e i r p l a c e a m o n g t h e n u m b e r o f t h e t w e l v e t a k e t h e l e a d as
commanders i n t h e s t a t i o n g i v e n to e a c h . M a n y , t h e n , a n d
5 blessed are the paths to be seen a l o n g which the h a p p y race
o f gods t u r n w i t h i n the h e a v e n s , each o f them p e r f o r m i n g what
b e l o n g s to h i m ; a n d after them follows a n y o n e who wishes a n d
is able to do s o , for jealousy i s e x c l u d e d from t h e d i v i n e
c h o r u s . B u t w h e n t h e y go to t h e i r f e a s t i n g a n d t o b a n q u e t ,
b t h e n t h e y t r a v e l to the summit o f t h e a r c h o f h e a v e n , a n d t h e
climb is steep: the chariots o f the gods t r a v e l easily, b e i n g
well-balanced and easily controlled, while the rest do so with
difficulty;
for the horse which is p a r t l y bad weighs them
d o w n , i n c l i n i n g them towards the earth t h r o u g h its weight, i f
5 a n y o f the charioteers has not t r a i n e d him w e l l . H e r e the
harshest toil and s t r u g g l e awaits a s o u l . When those souls that
a r e c a l l e d i m m o r t a l a r e at t h e t o p , t h e y t r a v e l o u t s i d e a n d t a k e
c their stand upon the outer part of the heavens, and positioned
like this they are carried r o u n d b y its revolution, and gaze o n
the things outside the heavens.
'The
region above the
heavens
has
never yet
been
c e l e b r a t e d as it d e s e r v e s b y a n y e a r t h l y poet, n o r w i l l it e v e r
5 b e . B u t it i s l i k e t h i s - f o r one must be bold e n o u g h to s a y
what i s t r u e ,
especially when s p e a k i n g about
truth.
This
region is occupied b y b e i n g which really i s , which i s without
colour o r shape, intangible, observable b y the steersman of
t h e s o u l alone, b y i n t e l l e c t , a n d to w h i c h the c l a s s o f t r u e
d knowledge
relates.
Thus
because
the
mind
of a god
is
n o u r i s h e d b y i n s i g h t a n d k n o w l e d g e u n m i x e d , a n d so too that
of
every
soul
which
is
concerned
to
receive
what
is
a p p r o p r i a t e t o i t , i t i s g l a d at l a s t t o s e e w h a t i s a n d i s
n o u r i s h e d a n d made h a p p y b y g a z i n g o n what i s t r u e , u n t i l
5 t h e r e v o l u t i o n b r i n g s it a r o u n d i n a c i r c l e to t h e same p o i n t .
I n i t s c i r c u i t it catches s i g h t o f j u s t i c e i t s e l f , o f s e l f - c o n t r o l ,
o f k n o w l e d g e - not t h a t k n o w l e d g e to w h i c h c o m i n g i n t o b e i n g
e a t t a c h e s , o r t h a t w h i c h seems to b e d i f f e r e n t i n e a c h d i f f e r e n t
o n e o f t h e t h i n g s t h a t we now s a y a r e , b u t that w h i c h i s i n
what really is and which is really knowledge; and h a v i n g
g a z e d a n d feasted i n t h e same w a y o n t h e o t h e r t h i n g s w h i c h
really a r e , it descends back i n t o the r e g i o n w i t h i n the heavens

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5 a n d goes home. When it is t h e r e , the c h a r i o t e e r s t a t i o n s his

h o r s e s at t h e i r m a n g e r , t h r o w i n g t h e m a m b r o s i a a n d
giving
them n e c t a r to d r i n k .
248
' T h i s is the
life o f g o d s ; o f the o t h e r s o u l s , the
one
w h i c h follows a g o d b e s t a n d has come to r e s e m b l e h i m most
r a i s e s the head o f its c h a r i o t e e r i n t o the r e g i o n o u t s i d e , and
is c a r r i e d r o u n d with the r e v o l u t i o n , d i s t u r b e d b y its horses
5 and
scarcely catching sight of the
things that are;
while
another
now
rises,
now
sinks,
and
because of the
force
e x e r t e d b y i t s h o r s e s s e e s some t h i n g s b u t not o t h e r s . T h e
r e m a i n i n g s o u l s follow a f t e r t h e m , a l l o f them e a g e r to r i s e u p ,
b u t u n a b l e to d o s o , a n d a r e c a r r i e d r o u n d t o g e t h e r u n d e r t h e
b s u r f a c e , t r a m p l i n g and jostling one another, each t r y i n g to
o v e r t a k e the n e x t . So t h e r e ensues the greatest confusion,
competition
and
sweated
exertion,
in
which
through
incompetent d r i v i n g many souls are maimed, and many have
t h e i r wings all b r o k e n ;
a n d all o f them h a v i n g had
much
5 trouble depart without achieving a sight of what i s ,
and
a f t e r w a r d s feed o n what o n l y a p p e a r s to n o u r i s h t h e m .
The
c a u s e o f t h e i r g r e a t e a g e r n e s s to see t h e p l a i n o f t r u t h w h e r e
it lies is that the pasturage w h i c h is
fitting
for the best p a r t
c o f the s o u l comes from the meadow t h e r e , a n d t h a t the n a t u r e
of the w i n g w h i c h lifts u p the soul i s n o u r i s h e d b y t h i s . A n d
this is the o r d i n a n c e o f N e c e s s i t y : that w h i c h e v e r s o u l follows
i n the t r a i n of a god and catches sight of p a r t o f what is t r u e
s h a l l remain free from s o r r o w u n t i l the n e x t c i r c u i t , and i f it
5 i s a l w a y s able to do t h i s , it s h a l l a l w a y s remain free from
h a r m ; b u t w h e n e v e r t h r o u g h i n a b i l i t y to follow i t fails to s e e ,
a n d t h r o u g h some m i s c h a n c e i s w e i g h e d d o w n b y b e i n g f i l l e d
with
forgetfulness
and
incompetence,
and
because of
the
w e i g h t loses i t s w i n g s a n d falls to the e a r t h , t h e n i t i s t h e law
d t h a t t h i s s o u l s h a l l n o t b e p l a n t e d i n a n y w i l d c r e a t u r e at i t s
first
b i r t h ; r a t h e r the o n e w h i c h saw most s h a l l b e p l a n t e d i n
a s e e d from w h i c h w i l l grow a man who w i l l become a l o v e r o f
wisdom o r of b e a u t y , o r d e v o t e d to the M u s e s and to l o v e ; the
s e c o n d i n t h e s e e d o f a l a w - a b i d i n g k i n g , o r s o m e o n e fit f o r
5 g e n e r a l s h i p a n d r u l i n g ; the t h i r d i n t h a t o f a man who d e v o t e s
himself to the
a f f a i r s o f a c i t y , o r p e r h a p s to t h o s e o f a
household
or
to
business;
the
fourth,
in
that
of
an
e x e r c i s e - l o v i n g t r a i n e r i n the g y m n a s i u m , o r of someone who
will be c o n c e r n e d w i t h h e a l i n g the b o d y ; the
fifth
will have
e the life o f a s e e r o r o f an e x p e r t i n some m y s t i c r i t e s ; f o r the
s i x t h , the f i t t i n g life will be that o f a poet o r some o t h e r life
from a m o n g t h o s e c o n c e r n e d w i t h i m i t a t i o n ; for the
seventh
that o f a craftsman o r f a r m e r ; for the e i g h t h that of sophist
o r demagogue; for the n i n t h that of a t y r a n t . A m o n g all these
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kinds of life,
the
man
who lives j u s t l y receives a b e t t e r
5 p o r t i o n , while the man who l i v e s u n j u s t l y r e c e i v e s a w o r s e .
F o r e a c h s o u l o n l y r e t u r n s to t h e p l a c e from w h i c h i t h a s come
249 a f t e r t e n t h o u s a n d y e a r s ; f o r i t d o e s n o t b e c o m e w i n g e d b e f o r e
then,
except
for
that
of
the
man
who
has
lived
the
p h i l o s o p h i c a l life without guile o r who has u n i t e d his love f o r
his boy
with philosophy;
and
these souls, with the
third
circuit of a t h o u s a n d y e a r s , i f t h e y choose this life t h r e e times
i n s u c c e s s i o n , o n that c o n d i t i o n become w i n g e d a n d d e p a r t , i n
5 the t h r e e - t h o u s a n d t h y e a r . B u t the r e s t , when t h e y f i n i s h
t h e i r first l i f e , u n d e r g o j u d g e m e n t , a n d a f t e r j u d g e m e n t s o m e
o f t h e m go t o t h e p l a c e s o f c o r r e c t i o n u n d e r t h e e a r t h a n d p a y
f u l l p e n a l t y , while o t h e r s a r e l i f t e d u p b y J u s t i c e i n t o some
r e g i o n o f the h e a v e n s and l i v e a life of a k i n d m e r i t e d b y
b t h e i r life i n human form. I n the t h o u s a n d t h y e a r , b o t h s o r t s
come to the allotment a n d c h o i c e o f t h e i r s e c o n d l i f e , a n d e a c h
chooses w h i c h e v e r it w i s h e s : t h e n a human soul may p a s s i n t o
5 the life o f a w i l d a n i m a l , a n d w h a t was o n c e a man b a c k i n t o a
man from a n a n i m a l . F o r a s o u l w h i c h has n e v e r s e e n the t r u t h
will not e n t e r t h i s s h a p e . A man must c o m p r e h e n d what i s s a i d
c u n i v e r s a l l y , a r i s i n g from m a n y sensations a n d b e i n g collected
together into one t h r o u g h r e a s o n i n g ; and this is a recollection
o f t h o s e t h i n g s w h i c h o u r s o u l o n c e saw w h e n i t t r a v e l l e d i n
c o m p a n y w i t h a g o d a n d t r e a t e d w i t h c o n t e m p t the t h i n g s we
now say are, and w h e n it rose u p i n t o what r e a l l y i s . Hence it
is with justice that o n l y the mind of the philosopher becomes
5 w i n g e d : for so far as i t c a n i t i s c l o s e , t h r o u g h m e m o r y , to
those t h i n g s his closeness to w h i c h gives a god his d i v i n i t y .
T h u s i f a man u s e s s u c h r e m i n d e r s r i g h t l y , b e i n g c o n t i n u a l l y
initiated i n perfect m y s t e r i e s , he alone t h r o u g h that initiation
d achieves
real perfection;
and
s t a n d i n g aside from
human
c o n c e r n s , a n d c o m i n g close to the d i v i n e , he i s a d m o n i s h e d b y
the many for b e i n g d i s t u r b e d , w h e n his r e a l state i s one o f
p o s s e s s i o n , w h i c h goes u n r e c o g n i s e d b y the m a n y .
'Well t h e n , the r e s u l t o f my whole a c c o u n t o f the f o u r t h
5 k i n d of madness i s clear - the madness o f the man w h o , o n
seeing beauty here on earth, and being reminded of true
b e a u t y , becomes w i n g e d , a n d f l u t t e r i n g with eagerness to fly
u p w a r d s , b u t u n a b l e to l e a v e the g r o u n d , l o o k i n g u p w a r d s l i k e
a b i r d , a n d t a k i n g no h e e d o f the t h i n g s b e l o w , c a u s e s him to
e be r e g a r d e d as m a d : my c o n c l u s i o n i s that t h i s t h e n r e v e a l s
i t s e l f as the b e s t o f a l l the k i n d s o f d i v i n e p o s s e s s i o n a n d
from the b e s t o f s o u r c e s f o r the man who i s s u b j e c t to it a n d
s h a r e s i n i t , and that it is w h e n he p a r t a k e s i n t h i s m a d n e s s
that the man who l o v e s the b e a u t i f u l i s called a l o v e r . F o r as

67

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5 has b e e n s a i d , e v e r y human s o u l has b y t h e law o f i t s n a t u r e

observed the things that are,
o r else it would not
have
250 e n t e r e d t h i s c r e a t u r e , m a n ; b u t i t i s n o t e a s y f o r e v e r y s o u l
to g a i n from t h i n g s h e r e a r e c o l l e c t i o n o f those o t h e r t h i n g s ,
e i t h e r f o r t h o s e w h i c h o n l y b r i e f l y saw t h e t h i n g s t h e r e at
that e a r l i e r time, o r f o r those w h i c h fall to e a r t h a n d h a v e the
m i s f o r t u n e to b e t u r n e d to i n j u s t i c e b y k e e p i n g c e r t a i n k i n d s
5 o f c o m p a n y , a n d to f o r g e t t h e h o l y t h i n g s t h e y saw t h e n . F e w
souls are left w h o h a v e s u f f i c i e n t memory; a n d t h e s e , w h e n
t h e y see some l i k e n e s s o f t h e t h i n g s t h e r e , a r e d r i v e n out o f
t h e i r w i t s w i t h amazement a n d lose c o n t r o l o f t h e m s e l v e s ,
b t h o u g h t h e y do not k n o w what has happened to them f o r l a c k
of clear perception. Now i n the earthly likenesses o f justice
a n d s e l f - c o n t r o l a n d the other t h i n g s w h i c h are o f v a l u e to
souls, t h e r e is no illumination, but t h r o u g h dulled o r g a n s just
5 a few a p p r o a c h t h e i r i m a g e s a n d w i t h d i f f i c u l t y o b s e r v e t h e
n a t u r e o f what is imaged i n t h e m ; b u t before it was p o s s i b l e
to see b e a u t y b l a z i n g o u t , w h e n w i t h a h a p p y company t h e y
saw a b l e s s e d sight before them - o u r s e l v e s following w i t h
Zeus, others with different gods - a n d were initiated into what
c it is right
to c a l l most
blessed of mysteries, which
we
celebrated, whole i n o u r s e l v e s , a n d u n t o u c h e d b y the evils
which awaited us i n a later time, with o u r gaze t u r n e d i n o u r
final
initiation towards whole, simple, unchanging and blissful
5 r e v e l a t i o n s , i n a p u r e l i g h t , p u r e o u r s e l v e s a n d not entombed
i n t h i s t h i n g w h i c h we now c a r r y r o u n d w i t h u s a n d call b o d y ,
imprisoned like oysters.
' L e t t h i s b e o u r c o n c e s s i o n t o m e m o r y , w h i c h h a s m a d e me
s p e a k now at some l e n g t h out o f l o n g i n g f o r what was b e f o r e ;
d b u t o n t h e s u b j e c t o f b e a u t y - as we s a i d , i t s h o n e out i n
c o m p a n y w i t h t h o s e o t h e r t h i n g s , a n d n o w t h a t we h a v e come
to e a r t h we h a v e f o u n d i t g l e a m i n g most c l e a r l y t h r o u g h the
clearest o f o u r senses. F o r o f a l l the sensations coming to us
t h r o u g h t h e b o d y , s i g h t i s t h e k e e n e s t : wisdom we d o not see
5 - the feelings of love it would cause i n us would be t e r r i b l e ,
i f i t a l l o w e d some s u c h c l e a r image o f i t s e l f to r e a c h o u r s i g h t ,
a n d so too w i t h t h e o t h e r objects o f l o v e ; as i t i s , b e a u t y
e alone has a c q u i r e d t h i s p r i v i l e g e , o f b e i n g most e v i d e n t a n d
most l o v e d . T h u s t h e man whose i n i t i a t i o n was not r e c e n t , o r
who has b e e n c o r r u p t e d , does not move k e e n l y from h e r e to
there, to beauty itself, when he observes its namesake h e r e ,
s o t h a t he does not r e v e r e i t w h e n h e l o o k s at i t ,
but
s u r r e n d e r i n g himself to p l e a s u r e does h i s best to go o n f o u r

69

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5 feet l i k e a n a n i m a l a n d f a t h e r o f f s p r i n g , a n d k e e p i n g c l o s e
251 c o m p a n y w i t h
excess
has
no fear o r
shame i n p u r s u i n g
pleasure c o n t r a r y to n a t u r e ; while the n e w l y i n i t i a t e d , the man
who o b s e r v e d m u c h o f what was visible to him before,
on
s e e i n g a g o d l i k e face o r some form o f b o d y w h i c h i m i t a t e s
beauty well, first shudders a n d experiences something of the
5 fears he h a d b e f o r e , a n d t h e n r e v e r e s it l i k e a g o d as he
l o o k s at i t , a n d i f he w e r e not a f r a i d o f a p p e a r i n g t h o r o u g h l y
mad w o u l d s a c r i f i c e to h i s b e l o v e d as i f to a statue o f a g o d .
A f t e r he has seen h i m , the e x p e c t e d c h a n g e comes o v e r him
b following the s h u d d e r i n g - sweating and a high fever; for he
is warmed b y the reception of the effluence of beauty t h r o u g h
his e y e s , which i s the natural nourishment of h i s plumage, and
with that warmth there i s a melting of the parts a r o u n d its
b a s e , w h i c h h a v e l o n g since become h a r d a n d c l o s e d u p , so
5 p r e v e n t i n g it from s p r o u t i n g , a n d w i t h the i n c o m i n g stream o f
n o u r i s h m e n t the q u i l l s o f the feathers swell a n d set to g r o w i n g
from t h e i r roots u n d e r the whole form o f the s o u l ; f o r f o r m e r l y
c the whole of it was w i n g e d . Meanwhile, t h e n , a l l o f it t h r o b s
and
palpitates,
and the experience is like that o f cutting
teeth, the i t c h i n g and the a c h i n g that o c c u r a r o u n d the gums
when the teeth are just coming t h r o u g h : s u c h i s the state
affecting the soul o f the man who i s b e g i n n i n g to s p r o u t w i n g s
5 - i t t h r o b s a n d aches a n d t i c k l e s as it grows i t s feathers. S o
w h e n i t g a z e s at t h e b o y ' s b e a u t y , a n d i s n o u r i s h e d a n d
warmed
by
receiving particles
(mer)
which
come to it
(epionta)
i n a flood ( r h e o n t a ) from t h e r e - h e n c e , o f c o u r s e ,
t h e name we g i v e t h e m , " d e s i r e
(himeros)
- it experiences
d r e l i e f from i t s a n g u i s h a n d i s filled w i t h j o y ; but w h e n i t i s
apart
a n d becomes p a r c h e d , the o p e n i n g s o f the passages
t h r o u g h w h i c h the feathers p u s h t h e i r way out are d r i e d u p
and closed, so s h u t t i n g off their shoots, and these, shut i n
w i t h the d e s i r e , t h r o b like p u l s i n g a r t e r i e s , eagh o f them
5 p r i c k i n g at t h e o u t l e t c o r r e s p o n d i n g t o i t , s o t h a t t h e e n t i r e
soul,
stung
all over,
goes
mad
with
pain;
but
then,
remembering the b o y with his beauty, it rejoices a g a i n . T h e
mixture
of
both
these
states
makes
it
despair
at
the
strangeness o f its condition, raging i n its perplexity, and i n
e i t s m a d n e s s i t c a n n e i t h e r s l e e p at n i g h t n o r k e e p s t i l l w h e r e
it i s b y d a y , b u t r u n s w h e r e v e r it t h i n k s it w i l l see the
p o s s e s s o r o f t h e b e a u t y it l o n g s f o r ; a n d w h e n i t h a s s e e n h i m
and channelled d e s i r e i n to itself it releases what was pent u p
5 before,
and
finding
a b r e a t h i n g s p a c e i t ceases from
its
s t i n g i n g b i r t h - p a i n s , o n c e m o r e e n j o y i n g t h i s f o r t h e moment
252 a s t h e s w e e t e s t p l e a s u r e . T h i s i t d o e s n o t w i l l i n g l y g i v e u p ,
n o r does it v a l u e a n y o n e a b o v e the o n e w i t h b e a u t y , b u t q u i t e
1 1

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(252) f o r g e t s m o t h e r , b r o t h e r s , f r i e n d s , a l l t o g e t h e r , not
caring
5 about
the
loss of his
wealth t h r o u g h
neglect,
and
with
contempt for all the accepted s t a n d a r d s of p r o p r i e t y and good
t a s t e i n w h i c h i t p r e v i o u s l y p r i d e d i t s e l f it i s r e a d y to act the
p a r t o f a slave and sleep w h e r e v e r it is allowed to do
so,
p r o v i d e d i t i s as c l o s e a s p o s s i b l e t o t h e o b j e c t o f i t s l o n g i n g ;
b for i n addition to its r e v e r e n c e for the possessor of b e a u t y , it
has found him the sole healer of its greatest s u f f e r i n g s . T h i s
e x p e r i e n c e , my b e a u t i f u l b o y , t h e one to whom my s p e e c h i s
a d d r e s s e d , men term love; but when y o u h e a r what the gods
call it I expect you will laugh because of y o u r y o u t h . I t h i n k
5 some H o m e r i c e x p e r t s c i t e two v e r s e s from the l e s s w e l l - k n o w n
poems, the s e c o n d o f w h i c h i s q u i t e o u t r a g e o u s and not v e r y
m e t r i c a l : t h e y celebrate him l i k e t h i s -

252 b 9 '

, e : /nrepofpoiTOv

72

"We m o r t a l s c a l l h i m M i g h t y L o v e , a wingfed p o w e r o f g r e a t
renown,
Immortals call him F l e d g e l i n g D o v e - s i n c e E r o s ' w i n g s
lack d o w n . "
Y o u m a y b e l i e v e t h i s o r n o t ; b u t at a n y r a t e t h e c a u s e o f t h e
l o v e r ' s e x p e r i e n c e a n d t h i s e x p e r i e n c e i t s e l f a r e as I h a v e
described.
' I f the man who i s t a k e n b y L o v e b e l o n g s among
the
f o l l o w e r s o f Z e u s , he i s a b l e to b e a r the b u r d e n o f
the
feathery one
with
some s e d a t e n e s s ;
but
those who
were
a t t e n d a n t s o f A r e s a n d made the c i r c u i t w i t h h i m , w h e n t h e y
are c a p t u r e d b y L o v e and t h i n k that t h e y are b e i n g w r o n g e d
i n some w a y b y t h e one t h e y l o v e , become m u r d e r o u s a n d
r e a d y to sacrifice b o t h themselves a n d t h e i r b e l o v e d . J u s t so
each man l i v e s after the p a t t e r n o f the god i n whose c h o r u s he
w a s , h o n o u r i n g h i m b y i m i t a t i n g h i m s o f a r as h e c a n , s o l o n g
as h e i s u n c o r r u p t e d a n d l i v i n g o u t t h e
first of the
lives
w h i c h he e n t e r s h e r e ; a n d he b e h a v e s i n t h i s w a y i n h i s
a s s o c i a t i o n s b o t h w i t h t h o s e he l o v e s a n d w i t h e v e r y o n e e l s e .
So e a c h selects h i s l o v e from the
r a n k s o f the
beautiful
a c c o r d i n g to his own d i s p o s i t i o n , and fashions and a d o r n s him
l i k e a s t a t u e , as i f he w e r e h i m s e l f h i s g o d , i n o r d e r
to
h o n o u r him a n d c e l e b r a t e h i s m y s t i c r i t e s . A n d so those who
b e l o n g to Z e u s s e e k t h a t the one t h e y l o v e s h o u l d be someone
l i k e Z e u s i n r e s p e c t o f h i s s o u l ; so t h e y look to see w h e t h e r
he
is
naturally
disposed
towards philosophy and
towards
l e a d e r s h i p , a n d w h e n t h e y h a v e found him a n d fall i n love
t h e y do e v e r y t h i n g to make him o f s u c h a k i n d . So i f t h e y
h a v e not p r e v i o u s l y set foot o n t h i s w a y , t h e y u n d e r t a k e it
n o w , b o t h l e a r n i n g from w h e r e v e r t h e y c a n a n d f i n d i n g out f o r
themselves;
and
as
they
follow
the
scent
from
within
73

253

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253 t h e m s e l v e s t o t h e d i s c o v e r y o f t h e n a t u r e o f t h e i r o w n g o d ,
t h e y find t h e m e a n s t o i t t h r o u g h t h e c o m p u l s i o n o n t h e m t o
gaze i n t e n s e l y o n the g o d , a n d g r a s p i n g him t h r o u g h memory,
a n d p o s s e s s e d b y h i m , t h e y t a k e t h e i r h a b i t s a n d w a y s from
h i m , to t h e e x t e n t t h a t i t i s p o s s i b l e f o r man to s h a r e i n g o d ;
5 and because they count their beloved responsible for these
v e r y t h i n g s t h e y love him still more, and i f it i s from Zeus
that t h e y d r a w , like B a c c h a n t s , t h e y p o u r the draught o v e r
b the s o u l o f t h e i r l o v e d o n e a n d make him as l i k e t h e i r g o d as
possible. T h o s e i n t h e i r t u r n who followed w i t h H e r a seek
someone r e g a l i n n a t u r e , a n d w h e n t h e y h a v e f o u n d him t h e y
d o a l l t h e same t h i n g s i n r e s p e c t o f h i m . T h o s e w h o b e l o n g to
A p o l l o a n d e a c h o f t h e o t h e r g o d s p r o c e e d i n t h e same w a y i n
accordance with their god a n d seek that their b o y should be o f
5 t h e same n a t u r e , a n d w h e n t h e y a c q u i r e h i m , i m i t a t i n g t h e g o d
themselves a n d persuading and disciplining their beloved they
draw him into the w a y o f life a n d p a t t e r n o f the g o d , to the
extent that each i s able, without s h o w i n g jealousy o r mean
i l l - w i l l towards t h e i r b e l o v e d ; r a t h e r t h e y act as t h e y do
c because t h e y a r e t r y i n g as m u c h as t h e y c a n , i n e v e r y w a y ,
to d r a w him i n t o complete r e s e m b l a n c e to t h e m s e l v e s a n d t o
whichever god they honour. The eagerness of those who are
t r u l y i n love, then, and its issue, i f , that i s , they achieve
what t h e y eagerly desire i n the way I have s a i d , thus acquires
5 n o b i l i t y a n d b r i n g s h a p p i n e s s from t h e f r i e n d who i s m a d d e n e d
t h r o u g h love to the object o f h i s affection, i f he i s c a u g h t ;
and one who i s caught i s c a p t u r e d i n the following w a y .

253 a \ ( = ) e
c 3 e
74

' J u s t as at t h e b e g i n n i n g o f t h i s tale we d i v i d e d e a c h s o u l
into three forms, two like horses and the t h i r d with the role
o f c h a r i o t e e r , so now let t h i s still s t a n d . O f the h o r s e s , o n e ,
we s a y , i s g o o d , t h e o t h e r n o t ; b u t we d i d not d e s c r i b e w h a t
the excellence o f the good horse was, o r the badness o f the
b a d h o r s e , a n d t h a t i s what we must now s a y . Well t h e n , t h e
first o f the t w o , w h i c h i s o n the nobler s i d e , i s erect i n form
a n d c l e a n - l i m b e d , h i g h - n e c k e d , nose somewhat h o o k e d , white
in colour, with black eyes, a lover of honour when joined with
restraint
and a sense o f shame, and a companion of true
g l o r y , n e e d i n g no w h i p , r e s p o n d i n g to the s p o k e n command
alone;
the
other
is crooked i n shape,
gross,
a
random
collection of parts, with a short, powerful neck, flat-nosed,
b l a c k - s k i n n e d , g r e y - e y e d , bloodshot, companion of excess and
boastfulness, shaggy a r o u n d the ears, deaf, h a r d l y yielding to
w h i p a n d g o a d t o g e t h e r . S o w h e n t h e c h a r i o t e e r first c a t c h e s
sight o f the light o f his love, warming the whole soul t h r o u g h
t h e m e d i u m o f p e r c e p t i o n , a n d b e g i n s t o b e filled w i t h t i c k l i n g
75

954 ^

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iavrov

and pricks of longing,

the h o r s e w h i c h is o b e d i e n t to
the
c h a r i o t e e r , c o n s t r a i n e d t h e n as a l w a y s b y s h a m e , h o l d s i t s e l f
b a c k from l e a p i n g o n the loved one; while the o t h e r no l o n g e r
t a k e s n o t i c e o f g o a d i n g o r the w h i p from the c h a r i o t e e r , b u t
s p r i n g s p o w e r f u l l y f o r w a r d , and c a u s i n g all k i n d s o f t r o u b l e to
his companion a n d the charioteer forces them to move towards
the b e l o v e d a n d mention to him the d e l i g h t s o f s e x . A t
the
s t a r t t h e t w o o f t h e m r e s i s t , i n d i g n a n t at b e i n g f o r c e d t o d o
terrible and improper t h i n g s ; but
finally,
when there is no
limit to t h e i r p l i g h t , t h e y follow i t s l e a d ,
giving in
and
a g r e e i n g t o do w h a t i t t e l l s t h e m . Now t h e y come c l o s e t o t h e
b e l o v e d a n d see the f l a s h i n g o f h i s face. A s the
charioteer
sees i t , his memory i s c a r r i e d b a c k to the n a t u r e o f b e a u t y ,
and again sees it s t a n d i n g together with self-control on a holy
p e d e s t a l ; at t h e s i g h t h e b e c o m e s f r i g h t e n e d , a n d i n s u d d e n
r e v e r e n c e f a l l s o n h i s b a c k , a n d i s f o r c e d at t h e s a m e t i m e t o
p u l l b a c k the r e i n s so v i o l e n t l y as t o b r i n g b o t h h o r s e s d o w n
on t h e i r h a u n c h e s , the one w i l l i n g l y , because o f its lack o f
r e s i s t a n c e to h i m , b u t the u n r u l y h o r s e m u c h against i t s w i l l .
When t h e y are a little way off, the
first
horse drenches the
whole soul w i t h sweat from shame a n d a l a r m , while the o t h e r ,
w h e n i t has r e c o v e r e d from the p a i n c a u s e d to i t b y the b i t
and its fall, scarcely gets its breath back before it breaks into
angry
abuse,
repeatedly
reviling
the
charioteer
and
its
companion for cowardly and unmanly desertion of their agreed
position;
and
a g a i n i t t r i e s to compel them to
approach,
u n w i l l i n g as t h e y a r e , a n d b a r e l y c o n c e d e s w h e n t h e y b e g him
to p o s t p o n e i t u n t i l a l a t e r time. When t h e a g r e e d time comes,
and
they
pretend
not
to
remember,
it
reminds
them;
s t r u g g l i n g , n e i g h i n g , p u l l i n g , i t forces them to a p p r o a c h the
b e l o v e d a g a i n to m a k e the same p r o p o s i t i o n , a n d w h e n t h e y a r e
nearby, head down and tail outstretched, teeth clamped on its
bit,
it
pulls
shamelessly;
but
the
same h a p p e n s to
the
c h a r i o t e e r as b e f o r e , o n l y s t i l l more v i o l e n t l y , as he falls b a c k
a s i f f r o m a husplex;
s t i l l more v i o l e n t l y he w r e n c h e s the bit
back,
and
forces it from
the
teeth o f the u n r u l y h o r s e ,
s p a t t e r i n g its e v i l - s p e a k i n g t o n g u e a n d i t s jaws w i t h
blood,
and t h r u s t i n g its legs and h a u n c h e s to the g r o u n d d e l i v e r s it
o v e r to p a i n s . When the same t h i n g h a p p e n s to the e v i l h o r s e
m a n y t i m e s , a n d i t c e a s e s from i t s e x c e s s e s , now h u m b l e d i t
allows the c h a r i o t e e r w i t h h i s f o r e s i g h t to l e a d , a n d w h e n i t
sees the b o y i n his b e a u t y , it n e a r l y dies w i t h f r i g h t ; and the
r e s u l t i s t h a t now the s o u l o f the l o v e r follows the b e l o v e d i n

77

55

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255 r e v e r e n c e a n d
awe.
So b e c a u s e he r e c e i v e s e v e r y k i n d o f
s e r v i c e , as i f e q u a l to the
g o d s , from a l o v e r w h o i s not
pretending but
genuinely i n love, and because he n a t u r a l l y
feels affection for a man who r e n d e r s him s e r v i c e , e v e n i f
5 p e r h a p s i n the p a s t he has b e e n p r e j u d i c e d a g a i n s t him b y
h e a r i n g his schoolfellows o r o t h e r s say that it is shameful to
associate w i t h a l o v e r , and r e p u l s e s the l o v e r for that r e a s o n ,
as time goes o n he i s l e d b o t h b y h i s a g e , a n d b y n e c e s s i t y ,
b to admit him to h i s c o m p a n y ; for i t i s fated t h a t e v i l s h a l l
n e v e r be f r i e n d to e v i l , n o r good fail to be f r i e n d to g o o d .
O n c e he has a d m i t t e d him a n d a c c e p t e d h i s c o n v e r s a t i o n a n d
his
company,
the
goodwill
that
he
e x p e r i e n c e s at
close
5 q u a r t e r s f r o m h i s l o v e r a m a z e s t h e b e l o v e d , as h e c l e a r l y s e e s
t h a t not e v e n a l l his o t h e r f r i e n d s a n d h i s relations t o g e t h e r
h a v e a n y t h i n g to offer b y way of affection i n comparison w i t h
the f r i e n d who i s d i v i n e l y p o s s e s s e d . A n d w h e n he c o n t i n u e s
doing this and association is combined with physical contact i n
t h e g y m n a s i u m a n d o n t h e o t h e r o c c a s i o n s w h e n p e o p l e come
c together, t h e n it is that the s p r i n g s o f that stream w h i c h Zeus
as l o v e r o f G a n y m e d e n a m e d ' d e s i r e ' flow i n a b u n d a n c e u p o n
the
l o v e r , some s i n k i n g w i t h i n h i m ,
a n d some f l o w i n g o f f
o u t s i d e him as he b r i m s o v e r ; a n d as a b r e a t h o f w i n d o r a n
5 echo r e b o u n d s from smooth h a r d s u r f a c e s a n d r e t u r n s to the
s o u r c e from w h i c h i t i s s u e d , so t h e s t r e a m o f b e a u t y p a s s e s
back into its possessor through his eyes, which is its natural
r o u t e to the s o u l ; a r r i v i n g t h e r e and s e t t i n g him all o f a
d flutter, it waters the passages of the feathers and causes the
w i n g s to g r o w , a n d fills the s o u l o f the l o v e d one i n h i s t u r n
w i t h l o v e . S o he i s i n l o v e , b u t w i t h w h a t , h e d o e s not k n o w ;
a n d he n e i t h e r k n o w s what has h a p p e n e d to him, n o r can he
5 even say
what it i s , but
like a man who has caught
an
e y e - d i s e a s e from someone he can g i v e no account o f i t , and i s
u n a w a r e t h a t he is s e e i n g himself i n h i s l o v e r as i f i n a
m i r r o r . A n d w h e n h i s l o v e r i s w i t h h i m , l i k e him he ceases
from h i s a n g u i s h ; w h e n he is a b s e n t , a g a i n l i k e him he longs
e and is longed for, because his r e t u r n of love is a reflection of
l o v e , t h o u g h h e c a l l s w h a t hQ h a s a n d t h i n k s o f i t a s f r i e n d l y
affection rather than love.
His desires are
similar to
his
lover's, but
w e a k e r : to see, t o u c h , k i s s a n d lie d o w n w i t h
h i m ; a n d i n d e e d , as one might e x p e c t , soon a f t e r w a r d s
he
5 does just t h a t . So as t h e y lie t o g e t h e r , the l o v e r ' s licentious
h o r s e has s o m e t h i n g to s u g g e s t to the c h a r i o t e e r , a n d claims a

255 e 6 m

78

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256 l i t t l e e n j o y m e n t a s r e c o m p e n s e f o r m u c h h a r d s h i p ; w h i l e i t s
counterpart i n the b e l o v e d has n o t h i n g to s a y , b u t
swelling
with confused passion it embraces the lover and kisses him,
w e l c o m i n g him as someone f u l l o f g o o d w i l l , a n d w h e n e v e r t h e y
5 lie d o w n together, it i s r e a d y not to refuse to do i t s o w n p a r t
i n g r a n t i n g favours to the l o v e r , s h o u l d he b e g to receive
them; but its companion, for its part,
together
with
the
c h a r i o t e e r , resists t h i s with a reasoned sense o f shame. Well
t h e n , i f t h e b e t t e r elements o f t h e i r m i n d s get the u p p e r h a n d
b y d r a w i n g them to a w e l l - o r d e r e d life, a n d to p h i l o s o p h y ,
b t h e y pass their life here i n blessedness and harmony, masters
of themselves and o r d e r l y i n their behaviour, h a v i n g enslaved
that part t h r o u g h which evil attempted to enter the soul, a n d
freed that part t h r o u g h which goodness enters it; and when
t h e y die t h e y become w i n g e d a n d l i g h t , a n d h a v e w o n the f i r s t
5 o f t h e i r t h r e e s u b m i s s i o n s i n t h e s e , t h e t r u e O l y m p i c games and neither human sanity nor divine madness has a n y greater
good to offer a man t h a n t h i s . B u t i f t h e y t u r n to a coarser
c way of life,
devoted not to wisdom b u t to h o n o u r ,
then
p e r h a p s , I s u p p o s e , w h e n t h e y a r e d r i n k i n g o r i n some o t h e r
moment o f c a r e l e s s n e s s t h e l i c e n t i o u s h o r s e s i n t h e t w o o f them
catch them off t h e i r g u a r d , a n d b r i n g i n g them together take
that choice which i s called blessed b y the many, a n d c a r r y it
5 t h r o u g h ; and once h a v i n g done so, they continue with i t , but
s p a r i n g l y , because what they are d o i n g has not been approved
b y t h e i r whole m i n d . So these too s p e n d t h e i r l i v e s as f r i e n d s ,
d t h o u g h not to t h e same d e g r e e as the o t h e r p a i r , b o t h d u r i n g
their love and when they have passed beyond i t , believing
t h a t t h e y h a v e g i v e n a n d r e c e i v e d the most b i n d i n g p l e d g e s ,
w h i c h i t would be w r o n g to b r e a k b y e v e r becoming enemies.
O n their death t h e y leave the b o d y without wings but with the
5 i m p u l s e to g a i n t h e m , so t h a t t h e y c a r r y o f f no small r e w a r d
for their lovers' madness; for it i s ordained that those who
have already b e g u n on the journey u n d e r the heavens shall no
longer pass into the darkness of the journey u n d e r the earth,
e b u t r a t h e r l i v e i n t h e l i g h t a n d b e h a p p y as t h e y t r a v e l w i t h
each other, and acquire matching plumage, when they acquire
it, because of their love.
' T h e s e are the b l e s s i n g s , my b o y , so great as to be
c o u n t e d d i v i n e , w h i c h w i l l come to y o u from t h e f r i e n d s h i p o f
a
lover,
in
the
way
I
have
described;
whereas
the
5 acquaintance of the non-lover, which is diluted with a merely
mortal good sense,
dispensing miserly benefits of a mortal
kind,
engenders
i n the
soul .which
is the
object o f i t s

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257 a t t a c h m e n t a m e a n n e s s w h i c h i s p r a i s e d b y t h e m a j o r i t y a s a
v i r t u e , a n d so w i l l c a u s e i t to wallow m i n d l e s s l y a r o u n d a n d
u n d e r the e a r t h for nine thousand y e a r s .
T h i s , d e a r g o d o f l o v e , i s o f f e r e d a n d p a i d to y o u as the
5 finest and
b e s t p a l i n o d e o f w h i c h I am c a p a b l e , e s p e c i a l l y
g i v e n t h a t i t w a s forced t o u s e s o m e w h a t p o e t i c a l l a n g u a g e
because of P h a e d r u s . F o r g i v e what went before and r e g a r d
t h i s w i t h f a v o u r ; b e k i n d a n d g r a c i o u s - do not i n a n g e r t a k e
a w a y o r maim the e x p e r t i s e i n l o v e w h i c h y o u g a v e me,
and
b grant that I be v a l u e d still more than now b y the b e a u t i f u l . I f
in our
earlier speech Phaedrus and I said anything harsh
a g a i n s t y o u , blame L y s i a s as the i n s t i g a t o r o f the s p e e c h , a n d
make him cease from
speeches of that k i n d ,
turning
him
instead,
as
his b r o t h e r Polemarchus has
been turned,
to
5 p h i l o s o p h y , so t h a t h i s l o v e r h e r e may n o l o n g e r w a v e r as he
does now between the two c h o i c e s , but may s i n g l e - m i n d e d l y
d i r e c t h i s l i f e t o w a r d s l o v e a c c o m p a n i e d b y t a l k (logoi)
of a
philosophical k i n d .
c P . : I join i n y o u r p r a y e r for that, Socrates, i f indeed it is
b e t t e r f o r u s . F o r s o m e t i m e I h a v e b e e n a m a z e d at h o w m u c h
finer y o u managed to make y o u r speech t h a n the one before;
so
t h a t I'm
a f r a i d L y s i a s w i l l a p p e a r w r e t c h e d to me
in
c o m p a r i s o n , i f he r e a l l y does c o n s e n t to p u t u p a n o t h e r i n
5 competition with i t . I n d e e d , my fine fellow, just r e c e n t l y one
of the politicians was a b u s i n g him w i t h t h i s v e r y c h a r g e , a n d
t h r o u g h o u t a l l h i s a b u s e k e p t c a l l i n g him a ' s p e e c h - w r i t e r ; so
p e r h a p s we s h a l l f i n d him r e f r a i n i n g from w r i t i n g out
of
concern for his reputation.
d S.:
A n a b s u r d i d e a , y o u n g man;
you much mistake y o u r
f r i e n d , i f y o u t h i n k him so f r i g h t e n e d o f mere n o i s e . B u t
p e r h a p s y o u r e a l l y t h i n k that the man who was a b u s i n g him
meant what he s a i d .
5 P . : He seemed to, S o c r a t e s ; a n d I t h i n k y o u k n o w y o u r s e l f
t h a t the men w i t h the most p o w e r a n d d i g n i t y i n o u r cities are
ashamed to w r i t e s p e e c h e s a n d leave compositions o f t h e i r s
b e h i n d them, for fear of what posterity will t h i n k of them t h e y ' r e afraid they'll be called sophists.
S.:
P h a e d r u s , you don't know [that] the e x p r e s s i o n 'pleasant
e b e n d ' [comes from the l o n g b e n d o f the N i l e ] ; a n d b e s i d e s the
b e n d y o u ' r e missing the point that the politicians who h a v e the
highest
opinion
of
themselves
are
most
in
love
with
s p e e c h - w r i t i n g and with leaving compositions b e h i n d them, to
i u d g e at a n y r a t e f r o m t h e f a c t t h a t w h e n e v e r t h e y w r i t e a

82

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5 s p e e c h , t h e y are so p l e a s e d w i t h t h o s e who commend i t t h a t

t h e y a d d i n at the b e g i n n i n g the n a m e s o f t h o s e w h o c o m m e n d
them on each occasion.
P . : What do y o u mean b y t h a t ? I don't u n d e r s t a n d .
258 S . :
You
don't
understand
that
at
the
beginning
of
a
p o l i t i c i a n ' s composition t h e commender's name i s w r i t t e n f i r s t ?
P . : How so?
S . : T h e w r i t e r s a y s p e r h a p s 'it was r e s o l v e d b y the c o u n c i l ' ,
5 o r ' b y the people', o r b o t h , and 'so-and-so s a i d ' , r e f e r r i n g to
his own dear self with great pomposity and self-eulogy; then
he p r o c e e d s w i t h what he has to s a y , d e m o n s t r a t i n g his o w n
wisdom to those commending h i m , sometimes m a k i n g a v e r y l o n g
composition o f i t ; o r does s u c h a t h i n g seem to y o u to d i f f e r
from a w r i t t e n s p e e c h ?
b P.:
Not to
me.
S . : So i f it s t a y s w r i t t e n d o w n , the a u t h o r leaves the t h e a t r e
d e l i g h t e d ; but i f i t i s r u b b e d out a n d he loses h i s c h a n c e o f
5 b e i n g a s p e e c h - w r i t e r a n d o f b e i n g r e c o g n i s e d as a w r i t e r , he
a n d h i s f r i e n d s go i n t o m o u r n i n g .
P . : Quite right.
S.:
Clearly,
not
because t h e y despise the profession,
but
because they regardtit with admiration.
P . : Yes indeed.
10 S . : W e l l t h e n - w h e n h e b e c o m e s a n o r a t o r o r k i n g c a p a b l e o f
c a c q u i r i n g the power of a L y c u r g u s , a Solon o r a D a r i u s , and
a c h i e v i n g i m m o r t a l i t y as a s p e e c h - w r i t e r i n a c i t y , d o e s n ' t he
t h i n k himself e q u a l to the gods e v e n while he i s a l i v e ,
and
d o n ' t t h o s e who come l a t e r t h i n k t h e same o f h i m , w h e n t h e y
5 observe his compositions?
P . : Indeed so.
S . : So do y o u t h i n k t h a t a n y o n e o f t h a t k i n d , w h o e v e r he i s
and however i l l - d i s p o s e d t o w a r d s L y s i a s , r e p r o a c h e s him o n
t h i s count - that he i s a w r i t e r ?
10 P . : It i s n o t v e r y l i k e l y , f r o m w h a t y o u s a y ; i f h e d i d , i t
seems he w o u l d be r e p r o a c h i n g what he himself d e s i r e s .
dS.:
T h i s m u c h , t h e n , i s c l e a r t o e v e r y o n e , t h a t i n i t s e l f , at
least, w r i t i n g speeches is not something shameful.
P . : How can it be?
5 S . : B u t w h a t is s h a m e f u l , I t h i n k , i s s p e a k i n g a n d w r i t i n g not
i n an acceptable way, but shamefully and b a d l y .
P.:
Clearly.

258 a 1 - 2
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259

S . : S o what i s the w a y to w r i t e a c c e p t a b l y , o r not a c c e p t a b l y ?

Do we need, P h a e d r u s , to examine L y s i a s o n this subject, and
anyone else who has so far w r i t t e n a n y t h i n g , o r will write
a n y t h i n g , whether it is a composition relating to the city's
a f f a i r s , o r a p r i v a t e o n e , a n d w h e t h e r he w r i t e s it as a poet,
i n v e r s e , o r i n plain man's prose?
P . : Y o u r e a l l y a s k i f we n e e d to? What w o u l d a n y o n e l i v e
for,
i f I m a y p u t i t a s s t r o n g l y a s t h a t , i f n o t for s u c h p l e a s u r e s
as t h i s ? N o t , I t h i n k , f o r those w h i c h h a v e to b e p r e c e d e d b y
p a i n i f one i s t o enjoy p l e a s u r e at a l l - a feature p o s s e s s e d b y
nearly all the pleasures relating to the body; which is w h y
indeed they are r i g h t l y called slavish.
S . : We h a v e p l e n t y o f t i m e , i t s e e m s ; a n d I t h i n k , t o o , t h a t
as t h e c i c a d a s s i n g a b o v e o u r h e a d s i n t h e i r u s u a l f a s h i o n i n
t h e heat, a n d c o n v e r s e w i t h each o t h e r , t h e y look d o w n o n us
t o o . S o i f t h e y s a w u s as w e l l , j u s t l i k e most p e o p l e at
midday,
not c o n v e r s i n g b u t n o d d i n g o f f u n d e r t h e i r s p e l l
through
lazy-mindedness, they
would
j u s t l y l a u g h at
us,

5 t h i n k i n g t h a t some s l a v e s h a d come to t h e i r r e t r e a t a n d w e r e
h a v i n g their midday sleep around the s p r i n g , like sheep; but
i f t h e y see us c o n v e r s i n g a n d sailing past them unbewitched
b b y their Siren song, perhaps they may respect us and give us
t h a t gift w h i c h t h e y h a v e from t h e g o d s to g i v e to m e n .
P . : What i s t h i s gift t h e y h a v e ? I d o n ' t seem t o h a v e h e a r d
of it.
5 S . : It c e r t a i n l y i s n ' t a p p r o p r i a t e f o r a man w h o l o v e s t h e
Muses not to have h e a r d o f t h i n g s l i k e t h i s . T h e s t o r y i s that
these cicadas were once men, b e l o n g i n g to a time before the
Muses were b o r n , and that with the b i r t h of the Muses and
t h e a p p e a r a n c e o f s o n g some o f t h e m e n o f t h e time w e r e s o
c u n h i n g e d b y pleasure that i n t h e i r s i n g i n g t h e y neglected to
eat a n d d r i n k , a n d f a i l e d to n o t i c e t h a t t h e y h a d d i e d ; from
them t h e r a c e o f cicadas was a f t e r w a r d s b o r n , w i t h t h i s gift
from t h e M u s e s , t h a t from t h e i r b i r t h t h e y have n o need o f
5 sustenance, b u t immediately s i n g , without food o r d r i n k , u n t i l
t h e y d i e , a n d after t h a t go a n d r e p o r t to the M u s e s w h i c h
among those here honours which o f them. T o Terpsichore they
d report those who have honoured her i n the choral dance, and
make them dearer to h e r ; to E r a t o , those who have honoured
h e r i n the affairs o f love; a n d to the o t h e r Muses similarly,
a c c o r d i n g to the form o f h o n o u r b e l o n g i n g to e a c h ; b u t to
C a l l i o p e , t h e e l d e s t , a n d to O u r a n i a who comes a f t e r h e r , t h e y
5 a n n o u n c e t h o s e w h o s p e n d t h e i r time i n p h i l o s o p h y a n d h o n o u r
t h e m u s i c w h i c h b e l o n g s to them - who most o f a l l t h e M u s e s

87

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88

Thompson :

h a v e a s t h e i r s p h e r e b o t h t h e h e a v e n s a n d t a l k (logoi)
both
divine
and
human,
and
whose
utterances
are
the
most
beautiful.
So t h e r e are many reasons
w h y we s h o u l d s a y
s o m e t h i n g ( l e g e i n ) , a n d not sleep i n the m i d d a y heat.
P . : I n d e e d we s h o u l d ,
e S . : S o we must c o n s i d e r what we p r o p o s e d f o r c o n s i d e r a t i o n
just n o w : i n what w a y it is acceptable to make a n d w r i t e a
s p e e c h , and i n what way it is not.
P.:
Clearly.
5 S . : Well t h e n , for t h i n g s that are g o i n g to be s a i d well a n d
a c c e p t a b l y , at l e a s t , m u s t n ' t t h e r e b e k n o w l e d g e i n t h e m i n d
o f the s p e a k e r o f the t r u t h about w h a t e v e r he i n t e n d s to
speak about?
260 P . : W h a t I h a v e h e a r d a b o u t t h i s , m y d e a r S o c r a t e s , i s t h a t
t h e r e i s no n e c e s s i t y f o r t h e man who i n t e n d s to be a n o r a t o r
to u n d e r s t a n d what is really j u s t , but o n l y what would appear
so to the majority o f those who w i l l g i v e judgement, a n d not
what is really good o r fine but whatever will appear s o ;
b e c a u s e p e r s u a s i o n comes from t h a t a n d not from t h e t r u t h .
5 S . : Not to b e cast aside', P h a e d r u s , must a p p l y to w h a t e v e r
wise people s a y , a n d we s h o u l d always look to see w h e t h e r
t h e y may not be r i g h t ; what has just b e e n s a i d , p a r t i c u l a r l y ,
must not be d i s m i s s e d .
P . : Quite right.
S.:
Let u s c o n s i d e r it like t h i s .
10 P . :
How?
b S . : I f I were p e r s u a d i n g y o u to defend y o u r s e l f against the
enemy b y g e t t i n g a h o r s e , a n d neither o f us k n e w what a
h o r s e w a s , but I h a p p e n e d to know just so m u c h about y o u ,
that P h a e d r u s t h i n k s a h o r s e i s that tame animal w h i c h has t h e
largest ears 5 P . : It w o u l d b e r i d i c u l o u s , S o c r a t e s .
S.:
Not yet;
but it would be w h e n I t r i e d e a r n e s t l y to
persuade y o u b y putting together a speech i n praise of the
d o n k e y , labelling it a horse a n d s a y i n g that the beast would
b e a n i n v a l u a b l e a c q u i s i t i o n b o t h at h o m e a n d o n a c t i v e
service,
u s e f u l t o f i g h t from
a n d capable too o f c a r r y i n g
c baggage, and good for many other p u r p o s e s .
P . : T h e n it would be t h o r o u g h l y r i d i c u l o u s .
S.:
Well
then,
isn't
it
better
to
be
ridiculous
and
well-intentioned
than
to
be
clever
and
full
of
hostile
intentions?
5 P . : It s e e m s s o .
f

89

 . " 6

. *' , ,

S . : So w h e n a n e x p e r t i n r h e t o r i c who i s i g n o r a n t o f good a n d
e v i l f i n d s a c i t y i n the same c o n d i t i o n a n d t r i e s to p e r s u a d e
i t , n o t b y m a k i n g h i s e u l o g y a b o u t a m i s e r a b l e d o n k e y as i f i t
w e r e a h o r s e , b u t about what i s e v i l as i f it w e r e g o o d , a n d
h a v i n g applied himself to popular opinions actually persuades
the city to do e v i l instead o f good, what harvest do y o u t h i n k
d r h e t o r i c r e a p s a f t e r t h a t from t h e s e e d i t s o w e d ?
P . : Not a v e r y good one.
S.:
Well,
m y good m a n : h a v e we a b u s e d t h e s c i e n c e o f
s p e a k i n g more coarsely t h a n we s h o u l d ? She might p e r h a p s s a y
5 Why is i t , y o u excellent people, that y o u talk this nonsense? I
do not i n s i s t that anyone who learns how to speak s h o u l d be
ignorant o f the t r u t h ; o n the c o n t r a r y , i f my advice is
a n y t h i n g , i t i s t h a t he s h o u l d get t h e t r u t h f i r s t a n d t h e n
s e i z e h o l d o f m e ; b u t t h i s at a n y r a t e i s m y b o a s t ,
that
w i t h o u t me t h e m a n w h o k n o w s w h a t i s t r u e w i l l b e q u i t e
unable to persuade scientifically.'
f

5 ,

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e P . : So will she be right i n s a y i n g this?

S.:
I
say she
will;
if, that i s , the
arguments
(logoi)
a d v a n c i n g o n h e r t e s t i f y t h a t s h e i s a s c i e n c e . F o r I seem a s
it were to h e a r c e r t a i n arguments a p p r o a c h i n g a n d solemnly
p r o t e s t i n g e v e n b e f o r e t h e c a s e comes to c o u r t t h a t s h e i s
5 l y i n g , a n d i s not a s c i e n c e but a n u n s c i e n t i f i c k n a c k ; o f
speaking, saith the Spartan, a genuine science, without a
g r a s p o f t r u t h , n e i t h e r e x i s t s n o r w i l l come i n t o e x i s t e n c e i n
the future.
261 P . : We n e e d t h e s e a r g u m e n t s ,
Socrates; b r i n g them
here
before u s a n d examine what t h e y s a y a n d how t h e y s a y i t .
S . : Come here t h e n , y o u noble beasts, a n d persuade P h a e d r u s
of the b e a u t i f u l o f f s p r i n g that unless he engages i n p h i l o s o p h y
5 sufficiently well he will n e v e r be a sufficiently good speaker
either about a n y t h i n g . Let P h a e d r u s answer y o u .
P . : A s k your questions.
S . : Well t h e n , w i l l not t h e s c i e n c e o f r h e t o r i c as a whole b e a
k i n d o f l e a d i n g o f t h e s o u l b y means o f t h i n g s s a i d ( t o g o i ) , not
only i n law-courts and all other kinds of public gatherings,
b b u t i n p r i v a t e o n e s too - t h e same s c i e n c e , w h e t h e r it i s
concerned with small matters o r large o n e s , a n d something
w h i c h possesses no more v a l u e , i f p r o p e r l y u n d e r s t o o d , w h e n
it comes i n t o p l a y w i t h t h i n g s o f i m p o r t a n c e t h a n w h e n it does
w i t h t h i n g s o f no importance? Is t h i s what y o u ' v e h e a r d about
it?
P . : N o , I must s a y , not a b s o l u t e l y t h a t : a s c i e n c e o f s p e a k i n g
5 and writing is perhaps especially employed i n lawsuits, though
also i n p u b l i c a d d r e s s e s ; I h a v e not h e a r d o f a n y e x t e n s i o n o f
it b e y o n d t h a t .
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S . : What? H a v e y o u o n l y h e a r d o f the manuals o n r h e t o r i c b y

N ? s t o r a n d O d y s s e u s , w h i c h t h e y c o m p o s e d at T r o y w h e n t h e y
had n o t h i n g to do? Y o u h a v e not h e a r d o f those of Palamedes?
P . : No, and neither indeed have I heard of Nestor's, unless
you're
dressing
up
Gorgias
as
a
Nestor,
or
maybe
T h r a s y m a c h u s a n d T h e o d o r a s as O d y s s e u s .
S . : P e r h a p s . B u t a n y w a y let t h e m p a s s , a n d y o u t e l l m e , w h a t
i s i t t h a t t h e o p p o s i n g p a r t i e s (antilogoO
i n the law-courts do?
Isn't it just s p e a k i n g i n o p p o s i t i o n (antilegrein) to e a c h o t h e r ?
O r what s h a l l we s a y ?
P . : Just that.
S.:
O n t h e subject o f what i s just a n d unjust?
P.: Yes.
S . : S o t h e m a n w h o does t h i s s c i e n t i f i c a l l y w i l l make t h e same
t h i n g a p p e a r t o t h e s a m e p e o p l e at o n e t i m e j u s t , b u t at a n y
o t h e r time he w i s h e s , u n j u s t ?
P.:
Certainly.
S.:
A n d i n p u b l i c a d d r e s s e s he w i l l make t h e same t h i n g s
a p p e a r at o n e time g o o d , at a n o t h e r t h e o p p o s i t e ?
P . : Just so.
S . : So do we not r e c o g n i s e that t h e Eleatic Palamedes s p e a k s
scientifically,
so as to m a k e t h e same t h i n g s a p p e a r to h i s
h e a r e r s t o b e l i k e a n d u n l i k e , o n e a n d m a n y , at r e s t a n d i n
motion?
P . : Yes indeed.
S . : T h e n t h e s c i e n c e o f a n t i l o g i c i s not o n l y c o n c e r n e d w i t h
l a w - c o u r t s a n d p u b l i c a d d r e s s e s , b u t , so it seems, t h e r e will
be t h i s one science - i f i n d e e d it is one - i n relation to
e v e r y t h i n g that i s s a i d , b y w h i c h a man will b e able to make
everything
which
is
capable
o f b e i n g made to
resemble
something else resemble e v e r y t h i n g which it is capable o f b e i n g
made to r e s e m b l e , a n d to b r i n g it to light w h e n someone else
makes one t h i n g resemble another and disguises i t .
P . : What s o r t o f t h i n g do y o u mean?
S . : I t h i n k i t w i l l become c l e a r to u s i f w e d i r e c t o u r s e a r c h
i n t h i s w a y : does d e c e p t i o n come about more i n t h e case o f
things which are widely different o r i n those which
differ
little?
P . : In those which differ little.
S.:
N o w w h e n y o u a r e p a s s i n g o v e r from o n e t h i n g to i t s
opposite y o u will b e more likely to escape detection i f y o u take
small steps t h a n i f y o u take large ones.
P.:
Certainly.
S . : I n t h a t c a s e t h e p e r s o n w h o i n t e n d s to d e c e i v e someone
else,
but
be
undeceived
himself,
must
have
a
precise
knowledge o f the resemblance and the dissimilarity between the
things that are.

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P . : Necessarily.
S . : So w i l l he be a b l e , i f he i s i g n o r a n t o f t h e t r u t h o f e a c h
t h i n g , to identify the resemblance, whether small o r great,
w h i c h t h e o t h e r t h i n g s h a v e to t h e t h i n g he does not k n o w ?
P . : Impossible.
S . : T h e n clearly those who hold beliefs c o n t r a r y to what is
the case a n d are deceived have this k i n d o f t h i n g c r e e p i n g i n
o n them t h r o u g h certain resemblances.
P . : It d o e s h a p p e n t h a t w a y .
S . : S o i s t h e r e a n y w a y i n w h i c h a m a n w i l l b e e x p e r t at
m a k i n g o t h e r s c r o s s o v e r little b y little from what i s the case
o n each o c c a s i o n , v i a the resemblances, leading them away
t o w a r d s t h e o p p o s i t e , o r at e s c a p i n g t h i s h i m s e l f , i f h e h a s
not recognised what each t h i n g that is actually is?
P . : No, never.
S . : I n that case, m y f r i e n d , anyone who does not k n o w the
t r u t h , b u t has made it h i s b u s i n e s s to h u n t d o w n a p p e a r a n c e s ,
will g i v e u s a science o f s p e e c h w h i c h i s , so it
seems,
ridiculously unscientific.
P . : Y o u may be r i g h t .
S . : So do y o u want to take the speech o f Lysias which y o u
are c a r r y i n g w i t h y o u , a n d t h e ones I made, a n d see i n them
s o m e t h i n g o f the features w h i c h we s a y are s c i e n t i f i c a n d
unscientific?
P.:
M o r e t h a n a n y t h i n g ; as t h i n g s a r e , o u r d i s c u s s i o n i s
somewhat b a r e , because we do not h a v e sufficient examples.
S . : What i s m o r e , b y some c h a n c e - so it seems - t h e two
speeches w h i c h were g i v e n do h a v e i n them an example o f how
s o m e o n e w h o k n o w s t h e t r u t h c a n m i s l e a d >. h i s a u d i e n c e b y
m a k i n g p l a y i n what he s a y s (logoi).
I myself, Phaedrus.
blame t h e gods o f the p l a c e ; a n d p e r h a p s too the i n t e r p r e t e r s
o f the Muses who s i n g o v e r o u r heads may have breathed t h i s
gift u p o n us - for I don't t h i n k I share i n any science o f
speaking.
P . : So be i t ; o n l y make clear what y o u ' r e s a y i n g .
S.:
W e l l t h e n , r e a d me t h e b e g i n n i n g o f L y s i a s ' s p e e c h .
P . : ' Y o u k n o w how matters are w i t h me, a n d y o u h a v e h e a r d
me s a y h o w I t h i n k i t i s t o o u r a d v a n t a g e t h a t t h i s s h o u l d
h a p p e n ; a n d I claim that I s h o u l d not fail to a c h i e v e what I
a s k b e c a u s e I h a p p e n not to be i n l o v e w i t h y o u . T h o s e who
are i n love repent o f the s e r v i c e s t h e y do when - '
S . : S t o p . We m u s t s a y , t h e n , w h e r e L y s i a s g o e s w r o n g a n d
what he does u n s c i e n t i f i c a l l y . A m I r i g h t ?
P.: Yes.

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( 2 6 3 ) S . : I s n ' t t h i s s o r t o f t h i n g , at l e a s t , c l e a r t o a n y o n e - t h a t
w e a r e i n a g r e e m e n t a b o u t s o m e t h i n g s l i k e t h i s , a n d at o d d s
about o t h e r s ?
5 P . : I t h i n k I u n d e r s t a n d w h a t y o u m e a n , b u t t e l l me s t i l l m o r e
clearly.
S . : When someone u t t e r s the w o r d 'iron*, o r ' s i l v e r , don't we
all h a v e t h e same t h i n g i n m i n d ?
P.:
Absolutely.
10 S . : W h a t a b o u t t h e w o r d s ' j u s t ' o r ' g o o d ' ? D o n ' t w e d i v e r g e ,
and disagree both with each other and with ourselves?
P.:
Certainly,
b S . : T h e n we a r e i n a c c o r d i n some c a s e s , not i n o t h e r s .
P . : Just so.
S . : So i n w h i c h o f t h e two are we easier to d e c e i v e , a n d i n
which does rhetoric have the greater power?
5 P . : C l e a r l y i n t h o s e c a s e s w h e r e we go i n d i f f e r e n t d i r e c t i o n s .
S . : So the man who intends to pursue a science o f rhetoric
must
first
have divided these up methodically, and grasped
some m a r k w h i c h d i s t i n g u i s h e s e a c h o f t h e two k i n d s , t h o s e i n
w h i c h most people a r e b o u n d to t r e a d u n c e r t a i n l y , a n d t h o s e
in which they are not.
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CP.:
A fine k i n d o f t h i n g h e w i l l h a v e i d e n t i f i e d , S o c r a t e s ,
i f he g r a s p s t h i s l a t t e r k i n d .
S . : T h e n , I t h i n k , as h e comes a c r o s s e a c h t h i n g , h e must
not b e c a u g h t u n a w a r e s b u t l o o k s h a r p l y t o see w h i c h o f t h e
5 two t y p e s the t h i n g he i s g o i n g to speak about belongs t o .
P.:
Right.
S.:
Well t h e n ,
are we to s a y t h a t Icve belongs w i t h
the
disputed cases o r the u n d i s p u t e d ones?
P.:
With t h e d i s p u t e d , s u r e l y ; o t h e r w i s e , do y o u t h i n k it
10 w o u l d h a v e b e e n p o s s i b l e f o r y o u t o s a y w h a t y o u s a i d a b o u t
it just n o w , b o t h t h a t i t is h a r m f u l to b e l o v e d a n d l o v e r , a n d
t h e n o n the other hand that it is really the greatest o f goods?
d S.: Admirably
said;
b u t t e l l me t h i s t o o - f o r o f c o u r s e
because o f my i n s p i r e d condition t h e n , I don't quite remember
- whether I defined love when beginning my speech.
P.:
Y e s i n d e e d y o u d i d , most e m p h a t i c a l l y .
5 S.:
H e y now! How much more scientific y o u ' r e s a y i n g the
Nymphs, daughters o f Achelous, and P a n , son o f Hermes, are
than Lysias son of Cephalus i n the business o f speaking. O r

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am I w r o n g ? D i d L y s i a s t o o c o m p e l u s w h e n b e g i n n i n g h i s
s p e e c h o n l o v e to t a k e l o v e as some one d e f i n i t e t h i n g , w h i c h
e he h i m s e l f h a d i n m i n d , a n d d i d he t h e n b r i n g the
whole
s p e e c h w h i c h followed
to its conclusion b y o r d e r i n g it i n
r e l a t i o n to t h a t ? S h a l l we r e a d t h e b e g i n n i n g a g a i n ?
P . : If y o u t h i n k we s h o u l d ; but what y o u ' r e l o o k i n g for i s n ' t
there.
5 S.:
Q u o t e i t , so t h a t I c a n h e a r the man h i m s e l f .
P . : ' Y o u k n o w how matters are w i t h me, a n d y o u h a v e h e a r d
me s a y h o w I t h i n k i t i s t o o u r a d v a n t a g e t h a t t h i s s h o u l d
h a p p e n ; a n d I claim t h a t I s h o u l d not fail to a c h i e v e what I
264 a s k b e c a u s e I h a p p e n n o t t o b e i n l o v e w i t h y o u . T h o s e i n
love repent o f the s e r v i c e s t h e y do w h e n t h e i r d e s i r e ceases - '
S . : I n d e e d he seems to be a l o n g w a y from d o i n g what w e ' r e
5 l o o k i n g f o r , s i n c e h e d o e s n ' t e v e n b e g i n at t h e b e g i n n i n g , b u t
from the e n d , t r y i n g to swim t h r o u g h h i s s p e e c h i n r e v e r s e ,
o n h i s b a c k , a n d b e g i n s from the t h i n g s w h i c h t h e l o v e r w o u l d
s a y t o h i s b e l o v e d w h e n h e h a d a l r e a d y f i n i s h e d . O r am I
wrong, Phaedrus, my dear?
bP.:
What he makes h i s s p e e c h a b o u t , S o c r a t e s , i s c e r t a i n l y
an ending.
S.:
What about the r e s t ? D o n ' t the elements o f the s p e e c h
seem to h a v e b e e n t h r o w n i n a r a n d o m h e a p ? O r d o y o u t h i n k
5 t h e s e c o n d t h i n g he s a i d h a d to be p l a c e d s e c o n d f o r some
n e c e s s a r y r e a s o n , o r a n y o f t h e o t h e r s w h e r e t h e y w e r e ? It
seemed to me, as one who k n o w s n o t h i n g a b o u t i t , t h a t t h e
w r i t e r h a d s a i d j u s t w h a t h a p p e n e d to o c c u r to h i m , i n a not
i g n o b l e w a y ; b u t do y o u k n o w o f a n y c o n s t r a i n t d e r i v i n g from
the
science of s p e e c h - w r i t i n g w h i c h made him place these
thoughts one beside another i n this o r d e r ?
c P.:
Y o u ' r e k i n d t o t h i n k me c o m p e t e n t t o u n d e r s t a n d
so
p r e c i s e l y w h a t he has d o n e .
S.:
This much I think you would say:
that every speech
s h o u l d be put t o g e t h e r l i k e a l i v i n g c r e a t u r e , as it w e r e w i t h
a b o d y o f i t s o w n , so as not to l a c k e i t h e r a h e a d o r f e e t , but
5 to h a v e b o t h m i d d l e p a r t s a n d e x t r e m i t i e s , so w r i t t e n as to fit
both each o t h e r and the whole.
P . : Yes indeed.
S . : Well t h e n , ask i f y o u r f r i e n d ' s s p e e c h i s l i k e t h i s o r not;
a n d y o u ' l l f i n d it e x a c t l y l i k e the e p i g r a m w h i c h some s a y i s
i n s c r i b e d o n the tomb o f Midas the P h r y g i a n ,
d P . : What is t h i s e p i g r a m y o u m e a n , a n d what f e a t u r e o f it are
y o u r e f e r r i n g to?

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It s this:
'A bronze-clad maid, I stand on Midas tomb,
A s l o n g as r i v e r s r u n a n d t r e e s g r o w t a l l ,
A guardian of this much-lamented grave,
I'll t e l l the t r a v e l l e r : Midas r e s t s w i t h i n .
I t h i n k y o u see that it makes no d i f f e r e n c e w h e t h e r a n y p a r t
o f i t i s p u t first o r l a s t .
P . : You're making fun of our speech, Socrates.
S.:
Well, to a v o i d y o u r b e c o m i n g u p s e t , let us leave t h i s
s p e e c h t o o n e s i d e - t h o u g h i t d o e s s e e m t o me t o c o n t a i n
p l e n t y o f e x a m p l e s w h i c h s o m e o n e c o u l d g l a n c e at w i t h p r o f i t ,
i f not e x a c t l y b y t r y i n g to imitate t h e m - a n d p a s s o n to the
o t h e r s . F o r i n my v i e w t h e r e was something i n them w h i c h
should be noticed b y those who w i s h to i n q u i r e into speeches.
P . : What s o r t o f t h i n g do y o u mean?
S . : T h e y w e r e , I t h i n k , opposites: the one said that favours
s h o u l d be g r a n t e d to the l o v e r , the o t h e r to the n o n - l o v e r .
P . : A n d v e r y manfully too.
S.:
I t h o u g h t y o u were g o i n g to speak the t r u t h , and
say
' m a d l y ; a n d t h a t , i n fact, was the v e r y t h i n g I was l o o k i n g
f o r . We s a i d , d i d n ' t w e , t h a t l o v e w a s a k i n d o f m a d n e s s ?
P.:
Yes.
S . : A n d t h a t t h e r e w e r e two k i n d s of m a d n e s s , the one c a u s e d
b y s i c k n e s s e s o f a h u m a n s o r t , t h e o t h e r c o m i n g about from a
divinely caused reversal of our customary ways of behaving.
P.:
Certainly.
S.:
A n d of the
d i v i n e k i n d we d i s t i n g u i s h e d f o u r p a r t s ,
b e l o n g i n g t o f o u r g o d s , t a k i n g t h e m a d n e s s o f t h e s e e r as
A p o l l o ' s i n s p i r a t i o n , t h a t o f m y s t i c r i t e s as D i o n y s u s ' ,
poetic
m a d n e s s , f o r i t s p a r t , as t h e M u s e s ' , a n d t h e f o u r t h as t h a t
b e l o n g i n g to A p h r o d i t e a n d L o v e ; the m a d n e s s o f l o v e we s a i d
was b e s t , a n d b y e x p r e s s i n g t h e e x p e r i e n c e o f love t h r o u g h
some k i n d o f s i m i l e , w h i c h allowed u s p e r h a p s to g r a s p some
t r u t h , t h o u g h maybe also it took us i n a w r o n g d i r e c t i o n , a n d
m i x i n g t o g e t h e r a not w h o l l y i m p l a u s i b l e s p e e c h , we s a n g a
p l a y f u l h y m n i n the form o f a s t o r y , i n a
fittingly
quiet way,
to
my
master and
yours,
Phaedrus,
Love,
watcher
over
beautiful boys.
9

S.:

P . : A n d i t g a v e me g r e a t p l e a s u r e t o h e a r i t .
5 S.:
Well t h e n , let u s t a k e u p t h i s p o i n t from i t : how
s p e e c h was a b l e to p a s s o v e r from c e n s u r e to p r a i s e .
P . : What aspect of that are y o u r e f e r r i n g t o , p r e c i s e l y ?

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S . : T o me i t seems t h a t t h e r e s t r e a l l y w a s p l a y f u l l y d o n e , b y
way o f amusement; but b y chance two p r i n c i p l e s o f method o f
the following sort were expressed, and it would be gratifying
if one could grasp their significance i n a scientific w a y .
P . : What w e r e these?
S . : F i r s t , there is p e r c e i v i n g together and b r i n g i n g into one
form items t h a t are s c a t t e r e d i n m a n y p l a c e s , i n o r d e r t h a t o n e
can define each t h i n g and make clear whatever it i s that one
w i s h e s to i n s t r u c t one's audience about o n a n y o c c a s i o n . J u s t
so w i t h t h e t h i n g s s a i d j u s t now about l o v e , a b o u t w h a t i t i s
w h e n d e f i n e d : whether it was r i g h t o r w r o n g , the speech was
a b l e to s a y w h a t was at a n y r a t e c l e a r a n d s e l f - c o n s i s t e n t
because of that.
P . : A n d what i s the second k i n d o f principle y o u refer to,
Socrates?
S . : B e i n g able to cut it up a g a i n , form b y form, a c c o r d i n g to
i t s natural joints, and not t r y to break any part into pieces,
like an i n e x p e r t b u t c h e r ; as just now the two speeches took
the u n r e a s o n i n g aspect o f the m i n d as one form t o g e t h e r , a n d
just as a single b o d y naturally has its parts i n p a i r s , with
b o t h m e m b e r s o f e a c h p a i r h a v i n g t h e same n a m e , a n d l a b e l l e d
r e s p e c t i v e l y left a n d r i g h t , so too the two speeches r e g a r d e d
derangement as n a t u r a l l y a s i n g l e form i n u s , a n d the one cut
off the part on the left-hand side, then c u t t i n g it again, and
not g i v i n g u p u n t i l i t h a d found among the p a r t s a love w h i c h
i s , as we s a y , 'left-handed', and abused it with full justice,
while the other speech led us to the parts of madness o n the
right-hand side, and discovering and exhibiting a love which
s h a r e s t h e same name as t h e o t h e r , b u t i s d i v i n e , i t p r a i s e d i t
as c a u s e o f o u r g r e a t e s t g o o d s .
P . : Very true.
S . : N o w I am m y s e l f , P h a e d r u s , a l o v e r o f t h e s e d i v i s i o n s a n d
c o l l e c t i o n s , so that I may be able b o t h to speak a n d to t h i n k ;
and i f I t h i n k anyone else has the n a t u r a l capacity to look to
one a n d to m a n y , I p u r s u e him ' i n h i s footsteps, b e h i n d h i m ,
as i f he were a g o d ' . A n d f u r t h e r m o r e , those who c a n do t h i s
- w h e t h e r I g i v e them t h e r i g h t name o r n o t , g o d k n o w s , b u t
at a n y r a t e u p t i l l n o w I h a v e c a l l e d t h e m e x p e r t s i n d i a l e c t i c .
B u t now t e l l me w h a t we s h o u l d h a v e to c a l l t h e m i f w e l e a r n e d
from y o u a n d L y s i a s ; o r i s t h i s that v e r y t h i n g , t h e s c i e n c e o f
s p e a k i n g , b y means o f w h i c h T h r a s y m a c h u s a n d the rest have
become c l e v e r at s p e a k i n g t h e m s e l v e s , a n d m a k e o t h e r s t h e
same, i f t h e y are w i l l i n g to b r i n g them gifts as i f t h e y were
kings?

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P . : T h e y are k i n g l y e n o u g h , but t h e y c e r t a i n l y do not p o s s e s s

k n o w l e d g e o f t h e t h i n g s y o u a s k a b o u t . B u t y o u seem t o me t o
call t h i s k i n d o f t h i n g b y the r i g h t name, when y o u call it
d i a l e c t i c a l ; t h e r h e t o r i c a l k i n d s e e m s t o me s t i l l t o e l u d e u s .
dS.:
What
do
you
mean? C o u l d t h e r e be
anything
fine,
anywhere,
which
is
divorced
from
these
things
and
is
n o n e t h e l e s s g r a s p e d i n a s c i e n t i f i c w a y ? We m u s t c e r t a i n l y n o t
t r e a t it w i t h o u t p r o p e r r e s p e c t , y o u a n d I , a n d we must say
j u s t what t h a t p a r t o f r h e t o r i c i s w h i c h i s b e i n g left o u t .
5 P . : T h e r e are a great many t h i n g s left, I t h i n k , Socrates: the
t h i n g s i n the books w h i c h h a v e been w r i t t e n o n the science o f
speaking.
S.:
A timely reminder. F i r s t
of all, I think, there's
the
p o i n t t h a t a ' p r e a m b l e ' m u s t be g i v e n at the b e g i n n i n g o f a
s p e e c h ; these are the t h i n g s y o u mean, aren't t h e y the
refinements of the science?
eP.:
Yes.
S.:
In
second place t h e r e is to be something called
an
'exposition',
with
'testimonies' h a r d on its
heels;
thirdly
'proofs', fourthly 'probabilities'; and I t h i n k 'confirmation' and
' f u r t h e r c o n f i r m a t i o n ' a r e m e n t i o n e d at least b y t h a t e x c e l l e n t
5 Byzantine artist i n speeches.
P . : Y o u mean the w o r t h y T h e o d o r a s ?
267 S . : O f c o u r s e ; a n d h e t e l l s u s w e m u s t p u t i n a ' r e f u t a t i o n '
and
'further
refutation'
both when prosecuting and
when
d e f e n d i n g . A n d m u s t we not g i v e p u b l i c r e c o g n i t i o n t o t h a t
m o s t a d m i r a b l e P a r i a n , E v e n u s , f o r b e i n g t h e first t o d i s c o v e r
' c o v e r t a l l u s i o n ' a n d ' i n d i r e c t p r a i s e ' ? Some s a y he also u t t e r s
5 ' i n d i r e c t c e n s u r e s ' i n v e r s e as an a i d to m e m o r y ; he's a c l e v e r
one.
A n d s h a l l we leave T i s i a s a n d G o r g i a s to t h e i r s l e e p ,
w h e n t h e y saw t h a t p r o b a b i l i t i e s w e r e to be g i v e n p r e c e d e n c e
o v e r t r u t h s , and w h e n t h e y make small things appear large
b and large t h i n g s small b y the power of s p e e c h , and put
new
t h i n g s i n a n o l d w a y a n d t h i n g s o f t h e o p p o s i t e s o r t i n a new
way, and discovered conciseness of speech and infinite length
o n e v e r y s u b j e c t ? W h e n o n c e P r o d i c u s h e a r d me s a y i n g t h i s ,
he l a u g h e d , a n d said t h a t he alone h a d d i s c o v e r e d w h a t k i n d
of speeches are needed: what are needed are neither
long
5 s p e e c h e s n o r s h o r t o n e s , b u t o n e s o f a fitting l e n g t h .
P . : Masterly, Prodicus!
S . : A n d must we not mention H i p p i a s ? I t h i n k o u r f r i e n d from
E l i s would cast his vote w i t h P r o d i c u s .
P.:
Certainly.
10 S . : A n d h o w t h e n a r e w e to t e l l o f w h a t P o l u s h a s e n s h r i n e d -

105

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c terms like 'speaking with reduplication and 'speaking with

maxims' a n d ' s p e a k i n g w i t h images' - a n d the names w h i c h
L i c y m n i u s g a v e a s a p r e s e n t t o h i m f o r t h e p r o d u c t i o n o f fine
diction?
5 P . : B u t w e r e n ' t t h e r e some s u c h t h i n g s o f P r o t a g o r a s ' ?
S.:
Y e s , m y b o y , t h e r e was a ' c o r r e c t n e s s o f d i c t i o n ' ,
and
many other fine things. T h e n again, the scientific mastery of
wailing speeches d r a g g e d out i n connection with o l d age a n d
poverty
seems
to
me
to
belong
to
the
might
of
the
C h a l c e d o n i a n , a n d t h e man has also become c l e v e r at r o u s i n g
d a n g e r i n l a r g e n u m b e r s o f p e o p l e a l l at o n c e , a n d a g a i n , w h e n
o n c e t h e y a r e a n g r y , at c h a r m i n g them w i t h i n c a n t a t i o n s , as
he p u t i t ; a n d at b o t h d e v i s i n g a n d r e f u t i n g c a l u m n i e s , from
w h a t e v e r s o u r c e , he i s u n b e a t a b l e .
A s for the e n d i n g o f
s p e e c h e s , e v e r y o n e seems t o be i n c o m p l e t e a g r e e m e n t ; some
call it 'recapitulation', while others call it b y other names.
5 P . : Y o u m e a n s u m m a r i s i n g t h e p o i n t s at t h e e n d , a n d s o
r e m i n d i n g the audience of what has been said?
S . : T h a t ' s what I mean - a n d a n y t h i n g else y o u c a n a d d o n
the subject of speaking scientifically.
P . : O n l y small t h i n g s , a n d not w o r t h m e n t i o n i n g .
268 S . : T h e n l e t ' s l e a v e t h e s m a l l p o i n t s ; l e t ' s h o l d w h a t w e h a v e
more closely u p to the l i g h t , a n d see just what the p o w e r o f
the science is which is contained i n them.
P . : A v e r y forceful power it i s , Socrates, when it's a question
of mass g a t h e r i n g s .
5 S . : Y o u ' r e r i g h t . B u t see, my fine fellow, whether after all
y o u d o n ' t t h i n k , a s I d o , t h a t t h e i r w a r p h a s some g a p s i n i t .
P . : Do show me.
S.:
Tell
me
then:
i f someone came u p
to y o u r
friend
10 E r y x i m a c h u s o r h i s f a t h e r A c u m e n u s a n d s a i d k n o w h o w t o
a p p l y c e r t a i n t h i n g s to p e o p l e ' s b o d i e s so as to make them
b w a r m , i f I w a n t t o , a n d t o c o o l t h e m d o w n , a n d i f I s e e fit, t o
make them vomit, o r again make their bowels move, and all
s o r t s o f t h i n g s l i k e t h a t ; a n d b e c a u s e I k n o w a l l t h a t , I claim
to be an e x p e r t doctor a n d to be able to make an e x p e r t o f
a n y o n e else to whom I impart knowledge o f these t h i n g s ' 5 when t h e y h e a r d h i m , what do y o u t h i n k they would say?
P . : What else b u t to a s k him w h e t h e r he also k n e w b o t h to
whom he o u g h t to d o a l l t h e s e t h i n g s a n d w h e n , a n d t o w h a t
extent?
c S . : S o i f he s a i d ' N o , not at a l l ; b u t I e x p e c t the p e r s o n
w h o h a s l e a r n e d t h e s e t h i n g s f r o m me t o b e a b l e t o d o t h e
t h i n g s y o u ask about for h i m s e l f ?

268 a 2 n o f e
106

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108

P . : I t h i n k t h e y would say that the man was mad, and thought

he
had
become
a
doctor
from
having heard
something
s o m e w h e r e from a b o o k o r from h a v i n g s t u m b l e d a c r o s s some
common o r g a r d e n r e m e d i e s , w h e n he h a d n o k n o w l e d g e o f the
science itself.
S . : A n d w h a t a g a i n i f someone came u p to S o p h o c l e s o r
E u r i p i d e s a n d s a i d that he k n e w how to compose v e r y l o n g
passages about a small subject and v e r y short ones about a
large subject,
and piteous speeches,
when he wished,
or
conversely, frightening and threatening ones, and everything
else like that, and that he thought that b y teaching these
t h i n g s he was p a s s i n g o n the m a k i n g o f t r a g e d y ?
P . : T h e y too, I t h i n k ,
Socrates,
would
l a u g h i f someone
thought that t r a g e d y was a n y t h i n g other t h a n the arrangement
o f t h e s e t h i n g s - t h e i r b e i n g p u t t o g e t h e r s o a s t o fit b o t h e a c h
other and the whole.
S . : B u t I d o n ' t t h i n k t h e y w o u l d abuse him c o a r s e l y ; j u s t as a
m u s i c a l e x p e r t , i f h e met someone w h o t h o u g h t h e k n e w a l l
about h a r m o n y just because he happened to know how to
p r o d u c e the highest a n d the lowest notes o n a s t r i n g , would
not s a y
fiercely
'You're off your head, you wretch', but,
b e i n g a musician, more g e n t l y , ' M y dear fellow, the person
who is going to be a n expert i n harmony must certainly know
that,
but
there is n o t h i n g to prevent
someone i n y o u r
c o n d i t i o n from
h a v i n g not t h e
slightest understanding o f
harmony; for what y o u know is what has to be learned before
h a r m o n y i t s e l f , not t h e elements o f h a r m o n y as s u c h . '
P . : Quite right.
S . : T h e n Sophocles too would s a y that the man d i s p l a y i n g
himself to him a n d E u r i p i d e s knew the preliminaries to t r a g e d y
and not its elements, a n d A c u m e n u s that the i n d i v i d u a l i n his
case k n e w the p r e l i m i n a r i e s to medicine b u t not t h e elements o f
medicine.
P.:
Absolutely.
S . : A n d what do we t h i n k , i f the 'honey-toned A d r a s t u s ' , o r
P e r i c l e s , h e a r d o f s o m e o f t h o s e r e a l l y fine t e c h n i q u e s w e w e r e
g o i n g t h r o u g h just now - t h i n g s l i k e ' s p e a k i n g w i t h b r e v i t y '
and ' s p e a k i n g with images', and all the other things which we
w e n t t h r o u g h a n d s a i d w e s h o u l d l o o k at u n d e r t h e l i g h t - d o
we t h i n k t h a t t h e y , l i k e y o u a n d m e , w o u l d c o a r s e l y u t t e r some
u n e d u c a t e d e x p r e s s i o n at t h o s e w h o h a v e w r i t t e n t h e s e t h i n g s
u p a n d t e a c h t h e m as a s c i e n c e o f r h e t o r i c , o r b e c a u s e t h e y
a r e w i s e r t h a n u s , d o we t h i n k t h e y w o u l d r e p r o a c h u s t o o ,
a n d s a y ' P h a e d r u s a n d S o c r a t e s , o n e s h o u l d not get a n g r y ,
b u t b e f o r g i v i n g , i f some people who a r e i g n o r a n t o f d i a l e c t i c
109

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110

p r o v e u n a b l e to g i v e a d e f i n i t i o n o f what r h e t o r i c i s , a n d as a
result o f being i n this state t h i n k that they have discovered
rhetoric when t h e y have learned the necessary preliminaries to
the science, a n d believe that w h e n t h e y teach these t h i n g s to
other
people t h e y
have g i v e n them a complete course i n
r h e t o r i c , and that the matter o f p u t t i n g all o f these things
persuasively
and
of
arranging
the
whole,
as
something
involving
no d i f f i c u l t y ,
t h e i r p u p i l s must s u p p l y i n t h e i r
speeches
from
their own
resources ?
P . : rather t h i n k , Socrates, that the substance of the science
w h i c h t h e s e men t e a c h a n d w r i t e u p as r h e t o r i c i s s o m e t h i n g
l i k e t h a t , a n d t o m e . at a n y r a t e , y o u s e e m t o b e r i g h t ; b u t
how a n d from w h e r e c a n one a c q u i r e for o n e s e l f t h e s c i e n c e
w h i c h belongs to the real expert i n rhetoric and the r e a l l y
persuasive
speaker?
S.:
A s for the ability to acquire i t , P h a e d r u s ,
so as to
become
a
complete
performer,
probably
perhaps
even
n e c e s s a r i l y - t h e m a t t e r i s as i t i s i n a l l o t h e r c a s e s : i f i t i s
naturally i n y o u to be a good orator, a notable orator y o u will
b e , w h e n y o u h a v e got k n o w l e d g e a n d p r a c t i c e b e s i d e s , a n d
whatever y o u lack o f these, y o u wiU be incomplete i n this
r e s p e c t . B u t as f o r t h e p a r t o f i t w h i c h i s a s c i e n c e , t h e w a y
o f p r o c e e d i n g s e e m s t o me n o t t o b e t h e o n e t h a t L y s i a s a n d
Thrasymachus choose.
P . : Well h o w , then?
S . : It i s not s u r p r i s i n g , I s u p p o s e , m y good fellow,
that
P e r i c l e s t u r n e d out to be t h e most complete o f a l l w i t h r e s p e c t
to r h e t o r i c .
P . : W h y do y o u say that?
S . : A l l sciences o f importance require the addition o f b a b b l i n g
a n d lofty t a l k about nature; for the relevant h i g h - m i n d e d n e s s
a n d e f f e c t i v e n e s s i n a l l d i r e c t i o n s seem to come t o a m a n from
some s u c h s o u r c e as t h a t . T h i s i s s o m e t h i n g t h a t P e r i c l e s
acquired i n addition to his natural ability; for I think because
he fell i n w i t h A n a x a g o r a s , who was just s u c h a p e r s o n , and
b e c a m e filled w i t h s u c h l o f t y t a l k , a n d a r r i v e d at t h e n a t u r e o f
mind and the absence of mind, which were the v e r y subjects
about w h i c h A n a x a g o r a s u s e d to t a l k so m u c h , he was able to
d r a w from t h e r e a n d a p p l y to t h e science o f s p e a k i n g what was
applicable to i t .
P . : What d o y o u mean b y t h a t ?
S . : T h e method o f the science o f medicine i s , I suppose, the
s a m e as t h a t o f t h e s c i e n c e o f r h e t o r i c .
P . : How is that?
1

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S.:
In
both it is necessary
to determine the nature o f
5 something, i n the one the nature o f b o d y , i n the other the
n a t u r e o f s o u l , i f y o u are to proceed scientifically,
a n d not
merely b y
knack and experience,
to
produce health
and
s t r e n g t h i n the one b y a p p l y i n g medicines a n d diet to i t , a n d
to pass o n to the other whatever v i r t u o u s c o n v i c t i o n y o u w i s h
b y a p p l y i n g w o r d s (logoi)
a n d practices i n conformance with
law a n d c u s t o m .
10 P . : P r o b a b l y i t i s l i k e t h a t , S o c r a t e s .
c S . : T h e n do y o u t h i n k it is possible to u n d e r s t a n d the n a t u r e
of soul satisfactorily without understanding the nature o f the
whole?
P . : I f one is
to
place
any
reliance
i n Hippocrates
the
A s c l e p i a d , one can't u n d e r s t a n d about the b o d y either without
5 this procedure.
S . : A n d he's r i g h t , my f r i e n d ; but besides Hippocrates we
s h o u l d examine o u r account to see i f it agrees with h i m .
P.: Agreed.
10 S . : W e l l t h e n , o n t h e s u b j e c t o f n a t u r e , s e e w h a t H i p p o c r a t e s
d and the t r u e account s a y about i t . Shouldn't one reflect about
the nature o f anything like this:
first,
is the t h i n g about
w h i c h we w i l l want to be e x p e r t s o u r s e l v e s a n d be capable o f
making others expert simple o r complex? N e x t , i f it is simple,
we s h o u l d c o n s i d e r , shouldn't we, what n a t u r a l capacity it has
5 f o r a c t i n g a n d o n w h a t , o r w h a t c a p a c i t y i t h a s for b e i n g
acted u p o n , a n d b y what; a n d i f it has more forms t h a n one,
we s h o u l d count t h e s e , a n d see i n t h e c a s e o f e a c h , as i n t h e
case where it h a d o n l y o n e , w i t h w h i c h o f them it i s its n a t u r e
to do w h a t , o r w i t h w h i c h to h a v e what done to i t b y what?
P.:
Probably, Socrates.
S . : A t any rate proceeding without doing these things would
e b e just like a b l i n d man's p r o g r e s s . B u t o n no account must
we r e p r e s e n t t h e man who p u r s u e s a n y t h i n g scientifically
as
l i k e someone b l i n d , o r deaf; r a t h e r it is c l e a r t h a t i f anyone
teaches anyone r h e t o r i c i n a scientific w a y , he will r e v e a l
p r e c i s e l y the essential n a t u r e o f that t h i n g to which his p u p i l
5 will apply his speeches; and that, I t h i n k , is soul.
P . : Of course.
271 S . : T h e n a l l h i s e f f o r t i s c o n c e n t r a t e d o n t h a t ; f o r i t i s i n t h e
s o u l that he t r i e s to p r o d u c e c o n v i c t i o n . T r u e ?
P.: Yes.
S.:
I n that case it is clear that both T h r a s y m a c h u s
and
5 anyone else who s e r i o u s l y teaches a science o f r h e t o r i c will
first
write with
complete a c c u r a c y
and enable us to
see
whether soul is something which is one and uniform i n nature
113

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is to reveal the nature o f something.
P.:
Absolutely.
10 S . : A n d i n t h e s e c o n d p l a c e , h e w i l l m a k e c l e a r w i t h w h i c h o f
its forms it i s i t s n a t u r e to do w h a t , o r to h a v e what done to
it b y w h a t .
P . : O f course.
b S . : A n d t h e n , t h i r d l y , h a v i n g classified the k i n d s o f speeches
and o f s o u l , a n d t h e w a y s i n w h i c h t h e s e are affected, he will
go t h r o u g h a l l t h e c a u s e s , f i t t i n g e a c h to each a n d e x p l a i n i n g
what sort o f soul's b e i n g subjected to what sorts o f speeches
5 necessarily results i n one being convinced and another not,
g i v i n g the cause i n each case.
P . : It w o u l d c e r t a i n l y seem to b e b e s t l i k e t h a t .
S.:
Indeed, my f r i e n d , i f a model speech is written o r a
speech actually given o n a subject i n any other way t h a n t h i s ,
it w i l l n e v e r be g i v e n o r w r i t t e n s c i e n t i f i c a l l y - not o n a n y
c o t h e r s u b j e c t , a n d not o n t h i s o n e . B u t t h o s e who now w r i t e
manuals o f r h e t o r i c (logoi), the people y o u have listened t o ,
are c u n n i n g , and keep the secret to themselves, although t h e y
know p e r f e c t l y well about s o u l ; so u n t i l t h e y b o t h speak a n d
w r i t e i n t h i s w a y , let u s not b e l i e v e t h e i r claim t h a t t h e y w r i t e
scientifically.
5 P . : What w a y i s t h i s ?
S.:
T o g i v e t h e a c t u a l w o r d s w o u l d not b e e a s y ; b u t I'm
w i l l i n g t o s a y h o w o n e s h o u l d w r i t e , i f it i s to b e as s c i e n t i f i c
as it i s p o s s i b l e t o b e .
P . : Say then.
d S . : ' S i n c e the p o w e r o f s p e e c h is i n fact a l e a d i n g o f t h e s o u l ,
the man who is g o i n g to be an expert i n r h e t o r i c must know
how m a n y forms s o u l h a s . T h e i r n u m b e r i s s o a n d s o , a n d
t h e y a r e o f s u c h a n d s u c h k i n d s , w h i c h i s w h y some people
are like t h i s , and others like that; and since these have been
d i s t i n g u i s h e d i n t h i s w a y , t h e n a g a i n t h e r e are so many forms
5 o f speeches, each one o f s u c h a n d s u c h a k i n d . So people o f
one k i n d are easily persuaded for this reason b y one k i n d o f
s p e e c h to hold one k i n d o f o p i n i o n , while people o f another
k i n d are for these reasons difficult to persuade; h a v i n g t h e n
g r a s p e d these t h i n g s satisfactorily, after that the student must
o b s e r v e them as t h e y a r e i n r e a l l i f e , a n d a c t u a l l y b e i n g p u t
e i n t o p r a c t i c e , a n d be able to follow them w i t h k e e n p e r c e p t i o n ,
o r o t h e r w i s e get no a d v a n t a g e , as y e t , from t h e t h i n g s he
h e a r d e a r l i e r w h e n he was w i t h me. B u t w h e n he b o t h has
sufficient ability to s a y what sort o f man i s p e r s u a d e d b y what
s o r t s o f t h i n g s , and is capable o f t e l l i n g himself w h e n he sees
115

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272 h i m t h e r e t h a t t h i s i s t h e m a n a n d t h i s t h e n a t u r e w h i c h w a s
d i s c u s s e d b e f o r e , now a c t u a l l y p r e s e n t i n front o f h i m , to
whom he must now a p p l y t h e s e k i n d s o f s p e e c h i n t h i s w a y t o
p e r s u a d e h i m o f tfiis k i n d o f t h i n g ; w h e n h e n o w h a s a l l o f
t h i s , a n d has also g r a s p e d the occasions for s p e a k i n g a n d for
5 holding back, and for speaking concisely and piteously and i n
an e x a g g e r a t e d f a s h i o n , a n d for a l l t h e forms o f speeches he
may l e a r n , r e c o g n i s i n g the r i g h t a n d the w r o n g time for these,
t h e n his grasp of the science will be well a n d completely
f i n i s h e d , but not before that; but i n w h i c h e v e r o f these t h i n g s
b someone i s l a c k i n g w h e n he s p e a k s o r teaches o r w r i t e s , a n d
says that he speaks scientifically, the p e r s o n who disbelieves
him i s i n t h e s t r o n g e r p o s i t i o n . Well t h e n , P h a e d r u s a n d
Socrates,
perhaps our writer will say,
do you agree,
or
s h o u l d we accept i t i f t h e s c i e n c e o f s p e a k i n g i s s t a t e d i n some
other way?
5 P . : It's impossible, I t h i n k , Socrates, to accept a n y other
d e s c r i p t i o n ; y e t it seems no l i g h t b u s i n e s s .
S . : Y o u ' r e r i g h t . It i s just f o r t h i s r e a s o n that we must t u r n
a l l o u r a r g u m e n t s (logoi)
u p s i d e d o w n a n d look to see w h e t h e r
c a n y easier and s h o r t e r route to it appears a n y w h e r e , so that
someone doesn't waste h i s time g o i n g o f f o n a l o n g a n d r o u g h
r o a d w h e n he could t a k e a s h o r t a n d smooth o n e . B u t i f y o u
h a v e a n y h e l p t o g i v e from what y o u h a v e h e a r d from L y s i a s
o r anyone else, t r y to remember and tell me.
5 P . : I f i t d e p e n d e d o n t r y i n g , w o u l d ; b u t as t h i n g s a r e I'm
just not i n a position to h e l p .
S . : T h e n w o u l d y o u l i k e me t o s a y s o m e t h i n g I ' v e h e a r d f r o m
some o f t h o s e who make t h e s e t h i n g s t h e i r b u s i n e s s ?
P . : O f course.
10 S . : T h e s a y i n g g o e s , P h a e d r u s , t h a t i t ' s r i g h t t o g i v e t h e
w o l f s s i d e o f t h e case as w e l l .
d P . : T h e n y o u do just t h a t .
S . : Well t h e n , t h e y s a y that t h e r e i s no n e e d to t r e a t t h e s e
things
so
portentously,
or
c a r r y them
b a c k to
general
p r i n c i p l e s , g o i n g t h e l o n g w a y r o u n d ; for i t ' s j u s t w h a t w e
s a i d at t h e v e r y b e g i n n i n g o f t h i s d i s c u s s i o n {logos)
- that
5 t h e m a n w h o i s g o i n g t o b e c o m p e t e n t at r h e t o r i c n e e d h a v e
n o t h i n g to do with t h e t r u t h about just o r good t h i n g s , o r
i n d e e d about people who are s u c h b y n a t u r e o r u p b r i n g i n g .
For they say that i n the law-courts no one cares i n the
s l i g h t e s t for the t r u t h about t h e s e t h i n g s , b u t o n l y f o r what
e is c o n v i n c i n g ; a n d t h i s is what is p r o b a b l e , w h i c h is what t h e
man who is g o i n g to s p e a k scientifically must p a y attention t o .
F o r t h e y go o n to s a y that sometimes o n e s h o u l d not e v e n s a y
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what was a c t u a l l y d o n e , i f it i s i m p r o b a b l e , but r a t h e r what is

probable,
both
when
accusing and when defending,
and
5 w h a t e v e r o n e ' s p u r p o s e w h e n s p e a k i n g , t h e probable
is what
273 m u s t b e p u r s u e d , w h i c h m e a n s f r e q u e n t l y s a y i n g g o o d b y e t o
the t r u t h ; for when this happens throughout one's speech, it
gives us the entire science.

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P . : Y o u have stated just what those who profess to be e x p e r t s

i n s p e a k i n g (logoi)
say; for I remember, now y o u say i t , that
we d i d t o u c h b r i e f l y o n t h i s s o r t o f t h i n g b e f o r e , a n d i t seems
something o f great importance to those concerned with these
things.
S . : B u t y o u ' v e gone o v e r the man T i s i a s himself c a r e f u l l y ; so
let T i s i a s t e l l u s t h i s t o o : h e s a y s , d o e s n ' t h e , t h a t t h e
p r o b a b l e i s j u s t what most people t h i n k to b e t h e case?
P . : Just that.
S.:
I
suppose
it was o n m a k i n g just t h i s
clever,
and
s c i e n t i f i c , d i s c o v e r y t h a t he w r o t e t o t h e effect t h a t i f a weak
but b r a v e man beats up a s t r o n g coward a n d steals his cloak
o r something else o f h i s , and i s t a k e n to court for i t , t h e n
neither p a r t y should speak the t r u t h ; the coward should say
that he wasn't beaten up b y the b r a v e man s i n g l e - h a n d e d ,
while the other man s h o u l d establish that t h e y were o n t h e i r
own together, and should resort to the well-known
argument,
' h o w c o u l d a m a n l i k e me h a v e a s s a u l t e d a m a n l i k e h i n t f ' T h e
c o w a r d w i l l c e r t a i n l y not admit h i s c o w a r d i c e , but w i l l t r y to
i n v e n t some o t h e r lie a n d so p e r h a p s o f f e r a n o p e n i n g f o r h i s
opponent to refute h i m . A n d i n a l l o t h e r cases too t h e w a y to
speak
'scientifically'
will
be
something
like
this.
True,
Phaedrus?
P . : O f course.
S . : H e y ! How c l e v e r l y h i d d e n a s c i e n c e T i s i a s seems to h a v e
d i s c o v e r e d , o r someone else, w h o e v e r he may h a p p e n to b e ,
and
w h e r e v e r he rejoices i n b e i n g named from.
Still, my
f r i e n d , s h o u l d we o r s h o u l d we not s a y to him P . : What?
S . : T h i s : ' T i s i a s , we h a v e f o r some time b e e n s a y i n g , b e f o r e
y o u came a l o n g , t h a t t h i s " p r o b a b i l i t y " comes about i n t h e
minds o f o r d i n a r y people because o f a resemblance to the
t r u t h ; a n d we s h o w e d o n l y a few moments ago that i n e v e r y
case it i s t h e man w h o k n o w s t h e t r u t h who k n o w s best how to
d i s c o v e r t h e s e r e s e m b l a n c e s . S o i f y o u h a v e a n y t h i n g else to
say o n the subject o f a science o f s p e a k i n g , we'll gladly hear
i t ; i f n o t , w e ' l l believe what we s h o w e d just n o w , that u n l e s s
someone counts u p the v a r i o u s natures o f those who are g o i n g
to listen to h i m , a n d is capable o f d i v i d i n g u p the t h i n g s that
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are a c c o r d i n g to t h e i r forms a n d embrace each t h i n g one b y

one u n d e r one k i n d , he w i l l n e v e r be a n e x p e r t i n the science
of s p e a k i n g to the d e c r e e possible for m a n k i n d . T h i s ability he
will n e v e r acquire without a great deal o f diligent s t u d y ,
w h i c h the s e n s i b l e man o u g h t to w o r k t h r o u g h not f o r the
purpose o f s p e a k i n g and a c t i n g i n relation to men, but i n
o r d e r to be able b o t h to s a y what i s g r a t i f y i n g to t h e g o d s ,
and to act i n e v e r y t h i n g , so f a r as he c a n , i n a w a y w h i c h i s
g r a t i f y i n g to t h e m . F o r y o u s e e , T i s i a s - so s a y w i s e r men
t h a n us - t h e man who i s i n h i s r i g h t m i n d s h o u l d not p r a c t i s e
at t h e g r a t i f i c a t i o n o f h i s f e l l o w - s l a v e s , e x c e p t a s a s e c o n d a r y
c o n s i d e r a t i o n , b u t r a t h e r at t h a t o f g o o d a n d n o b l e m a s t e r s .
So i f t h e w a y r o u n d i s a l o n g o n e , don't be s u r p r i s e d ; f o r it
is for the sake o f great t h i n g s that t h e j o u r n e y is to be made,
not
for those y o u have i n mind.
Y e t t h e s e too, as
our
a r g u m e n t a s s e r t s , i f t h a t i s w h a t o n e w a n t s , w i l l b e s t come
a b o u t as a r e s u l t o f t h e o t h e r s , i f o n e so w i s h e s .
P . : I t h i n k t h a t w h a t y o u s a y i s v e r y fine, S o c r a t e s , i f o n l y
one had the capacity for i t .
S . : B u t f o r a m a n w h o e v e n a t t e m p t s w h a t i s fine, i t w i l l b e
fine t o o t o e n d u r e w h a t e v e r t u r n s o u t f o r h i m .
P.:
Indeed.
S . : So let that be e n o u g h o n the subject o f the scientific a n d
unscientific aspects o f s p e a k i n g .
P . : B y all means.
S.:
What we h a v e
left i s t h e
subject
of propriety and
i m p r o p r i e t y i n w r i t i n g : i n what w a y , w h e n it i s done, it will
be d o n e a c c e p t a b l y , a n d i n what w a y i m p r o p e r l y . T r u e ?
P.: Yes.
S . : So do y o u k n o w how y o u w i l l most g r a t i f y g o d i n r e l a t i o n
to s p e a k i n g , w h e t h e r a c t u a l l y s p e a k i n g , o r t a l k i n g about i t ?
P . : N o t at a l l ; d o y o u ?
S . : I c a n t e l l y o u , at l e a s t , s o m e t h i n g I h a v e h e a r d f r o m t h o s e
who came b e f o r e u s ; t h e y alone k n o w t h e t r u t h o f i t . B u t i f
w e w e r e t o find i t o u t f o r o u r s e l v e s , w o u l d w e c a r e a n y l o n g e r
at a l l a b o u t w h a t m e r e m e n h a p p e n t o t h i n k ?
P . : A n a b s u r d q u e s t i o n ; t e l l me w h a t y o u s a y y o u h a v e h e a r d .
S . : W e l l t h e n , w h a t I h e a r d w a s t h a t t h e r e w a s at N a u c r a t i s i n
E g y p t one o f the ancient gods o f that c o u n t r y , the one to
whom t h e s a c r e d b i r d t h e y c a l l t h e i b i s b e l o n g s ; t h e d i v i n i t y ' s
o w n n a m e w a s T h e u t h . T h e s t o r y w a s t h a t h e w a s t h e first t o
d i s c o v e r number and calculation, and geometry and astronomy,
a n d a l s o games o f d r a u g h t s a n d d i c e ; a n d , to c a p it a l l ,
l e t t e r s . K i n g o f a l l E g y p t at t h a t t i m e w a s T h a m u s - a l l o f i t .
that i s , that s u r r o u n d s t h e great city o f the u p p e r r e g i o n
1

121

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which the Greeks call Egyptian Thebes; Thamus they call

5 Ammon.
T h e u t h came to h i m a n d
displayed his technical
i n v e n t i o n s , s a y i n g that t h e y s h o u l d be passed o n to the rest
of
the
Egyptians;
and Thamus asked
what
benefit
each
b r o u g h t . A s T h e u t h went t h r o u g h them, Thamus criticised o r
e p r a i s e d w h a t e v e r he seemed to b e g e t t i n g r i g h t o r w r o n g . T h e
s t o r y goes that T h a m u s e x p r e s s e d m a n y v i e w s to T h e u t h about
each s c i e n c e , b o t h for a n d against; it would t a k e a l o n g time
t o go t h r o u g h t h e m i n d e t a i l , b u t w h e n i t came t o t h e s u b j e c t
o f l e t t e r s , T h e u t h s a i d B u t this
s t u d y , K i n g Thamus, will
5 make t h e E g y p t i a n s wiser and i m p r o v e t h e i r memory; what I
have discovered is an elixir o f memory and wisdom.' Thamus
r e p l i e d 'Most scientific T h e u t h , one man has the ability to
beget the elements o f a s c i e n c e , but it belongs to a different
p e r s o n to be able to judge what measure o f harm a n d benefit it
contains for t h o s e who a r e g o i n g to make u s e o f i t ; so now
275 y o u , a s t h e f a t h e r o f l e t t e r s , h a v e b e e n l e d b y y o u r a f f e c t i o n
for them t o d e s c r i b e them as h a v i n g t h e o p p o s i t e o f t h e i r r e a l
effect. F o r y o u r invention will produce forgetfulness i n the
s o u l s o f t h o s e w h o h a v e l e a r n e d i t , t h r o u g h l a c k o f p r a c t i c e at
u s i n g t h e i r m e m o r y , as t h r o u g h r e l i a n c e o n w r i t i n g t h e y a r e
reminded
from
outside b y alien
marks,
not
from
inside,
5 themselves b y themselves: y o u have d i s c o v e r e d an e l i x i r not o f
memory but o f reminding. T o y o u r students y o u give an
appearance o f wisdom, not the r e a l i t y o f i t ; h a v i n g h e a r d
b m u c h , i n t h e absence o f t e a c h i n g , t h e y will appear to k n o w
m u c h w h e n f o r the most p a r t t h e y k n o w n o t h i n g , a n d t h e y w i l l
be difficult to get a l o n g w i t h , because t h e y h a v e a c q u i r e d t h e
appearance o f wisdom instead o f wisdom i t s e l f .
P . : S o c r a t e s , y o u e a s i l y maice u p s t o r i e s f r o m E g y p t o r f r o m
anywhere else y o u l i k e .
5 S . : W e l l , m y f r i e n d , t h o s e at t h e s a n c t u a r y o f Z e u s o f D o d o n a
said that words o f an oak were the first prophetic utterances.
So the men o f those d a y s , because t h e y were not wise like y o u
m o d e r n s , w e r e c o n t e n t because o f t h e i r s i m p l i c i t y to l i s t e n to
c o a k a n d r o c k , p r o v i d e d o n l y that t h e y s a i d what was t r u e ; but
for y o u , P h a e d r u s , perhaps it makes a difference who the
s p e a k e r i s a n d w h e r e h e comes from: y o u d o n ' t j u s t c o n s i d e r
w h e t h e r what he s a y s i s r i g h t o r not.
P . : Y o u r i g h t l y r e b u k e m e , a n d i t s e e m s t o me t o b e a s t h e
T h e b a n s a y s about letters.
5S.:
S o t h e m a n w h o t h i n k s t h a t h e h a s left b e h i n d him a
science i n w r i t i n g , a n d i n his t u r n the man who r e c e i v e s it
from h i m i n t h e b e l i e f t h a t a n y t h i n g c l e a r o r c e r t a i n w i l l r e s u l t
from what i s w r i t t e n d o w n , w o u l d be f u l l o f s i m p l i c i t y a n d
f

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would be really ignorant o f Amnion's prophetic utterance, i n

d thinking
that
w r i t t e n words were a n y t h i n g more t h a n
a
r e m i n d e r to the
man who knows the subjects to which the
things written relate.
P . : Quite right.
S . : Y e s , P h a e d r u s , because I t h i n k w r i t i n g has this strange
5 feature,
which
makes it like p a i n t i n g . T h e o f f s p r i n g o f
painting
stand
there
as i f a l i v e ,
but
i f you ask
them
something, t h e y p r e s e r v e a quite solemn silence. Similarly with
w r i t t e n w o r d s : y o u m i g h t t h i n k t h a t t h e y s p o k e as i f t h e y h a d
some t h o u g h t i n t h e i r h e a d s , b u t i f y o u e v e r a s k them about
a n y o f the t h i n g s t h e y s a y o u t o f a d e s i r e to l e a r n , t h e y point
e to j u s t o n e t h i n g , t h e same e a c h t i m e . A n d w h e n o n c e it i s
w r i t t e n , e v e r y composition is t r u n d l e d about everywhere i n the
same w a y , i n t h e p r e s e n c e b o t h o f t h o s e who k n o w about the
s u b j e c t a n d o f t h o s e w h o h a v e n o t h i n g at a l l t o d o w i t h i t , a n d
it does not k n o w how to a d d r e s s those it s h o u l d address a n d
not those it should not. When it is ill-treated and unjustly
5 abused,
it always needs its father to help i t ; for it i s
incapable of defending or helping itself.
P . : Y o u ' r e quite r i g h t about that too.
276 S : W e l l t h e n , d o w e s e e a n o t h e r w a y o f s p e a k i n g , a l e g i t i m a t e
b r o t h e r o f t h i s one? D o we see b o t h how i t comes i n t o b e i n g
a n d how m u c h b e t t e r a n d more capable i t i s from i t s b i r t h ?
P . : W h i c h i s t h i s , a n d h o w d o e s i t come i n t o b e i n g , as y o u
put it?
5 S . : T h e one that i s w r i t t e n together with knowledge i n the
soul of the learner, capable of defending itself, and knowing
how
to speak a n d keep silent i n relation to the people it
should.
P . : Y o u mean the l i v i n g a n d animate s p e e c h o f the man who
knows, of which written speech would rightly be called a k i n d
of phantom.
bS.:
A b s o l u t e l y . T h e n t e l l me t h i s : t h e s e n s i b l e f a r m e r w h o
had
some s e e d s he c a r e d a b o q t a n d w a n t e d t o b e a r f r u i t w o u l d h e sow them w i t h s e r i o u s p u r p o s e d u r i n g the summer i n
some g a r d e n o f A d o n i s , a n d d e l i g h t i n w a t c h i n g i t b e c o m i n g
5 b e a u t i f u l w i t h i n eight d a y s , o r w o u l d he do that f o r the sake
of amusement o n a f e a s t - d a y , w h e n he d i d i t at a l l ; whereas
for the p u r p o s e s about w h i c h he was i n e a r n e s t , h e would
make
use
o f the
science of
farming and
sow them i n
appropriate
s o i l , b e i n g content i f what he sowed r e a c h e d
maturity i n the eighth month?
c P . : J u s t s o , I t h i n k , Socrates: he would do the one sort o f
t h i n g i n earnest, the other i n the other w a y , the way y o u
say.
125

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, ; OTrepei ,

S.:
A n d are we to s a y that the man who has pieces o f
knowledge
about what i s just,
fine and good has a less
sensible attitude towards his seeds than the farmer?
P.:
Certainly not.
S . : I n that case he will not be i n earnest about w r i t i n g them
i n water - b l a c k w a t e r , s o w i n g them t h r o u g h a p e n with w o r d s
which are incapable of speaking i n their own support, and
incapable o f adequately teaching what is true.
P . : It c e r t a i n l y i s n ' t l i k e l y .
S . : N o , i t i s n ' t ; but h i s gardens o f letters, it seems, he will
sow a n d w r i t e f o r amusement, w h e n he d o e s w r i t e , l a y i n g u p a
store
o f reminders both for himself, when he 'reaches
a
f o r g e t f u l o l d a g e ' , a n d f o r a n y o n e w h o i s f o l l o w i n g t h e same
track,
a n d he will b e pleased as he watches t h e i r
tender
g r o w t h ; a n d w h e n others resort to other sorts o f amusements,
watering themselves with d r i n k i n g - p a r t i e s and the other things
w h i c h go a l o n g w i t h these, t h e n h e , i t seems, will s p e n d his
time a m u s i n g himself w i t h the t h i n g s I s a y , i n s t e a d o f these.

e P . : A v e r y fine f o r m o f a m u s e m e n t i t i s y o u ' r e t a l k i n g o f ,
S o c r a t e s , i n contrast with a mean one - that o f the man who i s
able to amuse himself w i t h w o r d s , t e l l i n g stories about j u s t i c e
and the other subjects y o u speak of.
5 S . : Y e s , P h a e d r u s , j u s t s o ; b u t I t h i n k i t i s f a r finer i f o n e
is i n earnest about them; when a man makes use o f the science
of dialectic, and t a k i n g a
fitting
soul plants and sows i n it
words
accompanied b y knowledge, which are able to help
277 t h e m s e l v e s a n d t h e m a n w h o p l a n t e d t h e m , a n d a r e n o t w i t h o u t
f r u i t b u t c o n t a i n a s e e d , from w h i c h o t h e r s g r o w i n o t h e r
soils, capable of r e n d e r i n g it for ever immortal, and making
the one who has i t as h a p p y as i t i s possible for a man to b e .
5 P . : This is indeed still finer.
S . : T h e n n o w , P h a e d r u s , we c a n decide those o t h e r i s s u e s ,
since we h a v e a g r e e d about t h e s e .
P . : What are t h e y ?
S . : T h e ones we wanted to look i n t o , which b r o u g h t u s to o u r
10 p r e s e n t c o n c l u s i o n : h o w w e w e r e t o w e i g h u p t h e r e p r o a c h
b aimed at L y s i a s about h i s w r i t i n g o f s p e e c h e s , a n d speeches
themselves, which were written scientifically and which not.
Well t h e n , what i s s c i e n t i f i c a n d what i s u n s c i e n t i f i c seems to
me t o h a v e b e e n d e m o n s t r a t e d i n f a i r m e a s u r e .
P . : I t h o u g h t s o ; b u t r e m i n d me a g a i n h o w .

. "

126

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ol

5 S . : U n t i l a man k n o w s the t r u t h about each o f the t h i n g s

about w h i c h he speaks o r w r i t e s , a n d becomes capable o f
d e f i n i n g the whole b y itself, a n d h a v i n g defined i t , k n o w s how
to cut it u p again a c c o r d i n g to i t s forms u n t i l it c a n no l o n g e r
be c u t ; a n d u n t i l he has r e a c h e d an u n d e r s t a n d i n g o f the
c n a t u r e o f s o u l a l o n g t h e same l i n e s , d i s c o v e r i n g t h e
form
which
fits
each nature,
and so arranges
and orders
his
speech, offering a complex soul complex speeches containing all
the modes, a n d simple speeches to a simple s o u l - not before
t h e n w i l l he b e capable o f p u r s u i n g the m a k i n g o f speeches as
a whole i n a scientific w a y , to the degree t h a t i t s n a t u r e
5 allows, w h e t h e r for the p u r p o s e s o f t e a c h i n g o r p e r s u a d i n g , as
the whole o f o u r previous argument has i n d i c a t e d .
P . : A b s o l u t e l y ; that was just about how it a p p e a r e d to u s .
d S . : A n d w h a t a b o u t t h e m a t t e r o f i t s b e i n g fine o r s h a m e f u l t o
give speeches and write them, and the circumstances under
which it would r i g h t l y be called a disgrace or not? Hasn't what
we s a i d a l i t t l e e a r l i e r s h o w n 5 P . : What are y o u r e f e r r i n g to?
S . : Hasn't it shown that whether Lysias o r anyone else ever
wrote or writes i n the future either for private purposes, or
p u b l i c l y , i n the course o f p r o p o s i n g l a w s , so w r i t i n g a political
composition, and t h i n k s there is a n y great certainty o r clarity
10 i n i t , t h e n i t i s a r e p r o a c h t o i t s w r i t e r , w h e t h e r a n y o n e s a y s
so o r not; for to be i g n o r a n t , whether awake o r asleep, about
e what i s just a n d unjust and b a d a n d good cannot t r u l y escape
b e i n g a matter o f r e p r o a c h , e v e n i f the whole mass o f t h e
people applauds i t .
. : No indeed.
5 S . : B u t the man who t h i n k s that there is necessarily much
that i s m e r e l y f o r amusement i n a w r i t t e n s p e e c h o n a n y
subject, and that none has ever yet been w r i t t e n , whether i n
verse or i n prose, which is worth much serious attention - or
i n d e e d s p o k e n , i n the w a y that r h a p s o d e s s p e a k t h e i r s , to
produce conviction without questioning o r teaching, but that
278 t h e b e s t o f t h e m h a v e r e a l l y b e e n a w a y o f r e m i n d i n g p e o p l e
who k n o w ; who t h i n k s that clearness a n d completeness a n d
seriousness exist o n l y i n those t h i n g s that are taught about
what is just a n d fine a n d g o o d , a n d are said for the p u r p o s e
5 o f someone's l e a r n i n g from t h e m , a n d g e n u i n e l y w r i t t e n i n the
s o u l ; who t h i n k s that speeches o f that k i n d s h o u l d be s a i d to
b e as it w e r e h i s l e g i t i m a t e s o n s , f i r s t o f a l l t h e o n e w i t h i n
h i m , i f it is f o u n d t h e r e , a n d i n s e c o n d p l a c e a n y o f f s p r i n g
b and b r o t h e r s of this one which have s p r u n g up simultaneously,
as t h e y s h o u l d , i n o t h e r s o u l s , o t h e r m e n ; a n d w h o s a y s
g o o d b y e to t h e o t h e r k i n d s - t h i s is l i k e l y to be t h e sort o f
129

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279

m a n , P h a e d r u s , t h a t y o u a n d I w o u l d p r a y t h a t we b o t h m i g h t
come to b e .
P . : Quite definitely I wish and p r a y for what y o u s a y .
S . : S o now we h a v e h a d d u e a m u s e m e n t f r o m t h e s u b j e c t o f
s p e a k i n g ; a n d as f o r y o u , go a n d t e l l L y s i a s t h a t we t w o came
d o w n to the s p r i n g a n d the s a c r e d place o f the N y m p h s a n d
l i s t e n e d t o s p e e c h e s (logoi)
w h i c h i n s t r u c t e d us to tell t h i s to
L y s i a s a n d anyone else who composes speeches (logoi), and to
Homer and anyone else i n t h e i r t u r n who has composed v e r s e s ,
w h e t h e r w i t h o u t m u s i c o r to b e s u n g , a n d t h i r d l y to S o l o n a n d
w h o e v e r w r i t e s c o m p o s i t i o n s i n t h e form o f p o l i t i c a l s p e e c h e s ,
w h i c h he calls l a w s : i f he has composed t h e s e t h i n g s k n o w i n g
how the t r u t h i s , able to h e l p his composition w h e n he i s
challenged
on
its
subjects, and
with the
capacity,
when
s p e a k i n g i n his o w n p e r s o n , to show that what he has w r i t t e n
i s o f l i t t l e w o r t h , t h e n s u c h a man o u g h t not to d e r i v e h i s
t i t l e from t h e s e , a n d be c a l l e d a f t e r t h e m , b u t r a t h e r from
t h o s e t h i n g s i n w h i c h he i s s e r i o u s l y e n g a g e d .
P . : What are the t i t l e s y o u a s s i g n h i m , t h e n ?
S . : T o c a l l h i m w i s e s e e m s t o roe t o b e t o o m u c h , a n d t o b e
f i t t i n g o n l y i n the case o f a g o d ; to c a l l him e i t h e r a l o v e r o f
w i s d o m - a p h i l o s o p h e r - o r s o m e t h i n g l i k e t h a t w o u l d b o t h fit
him more and be i n b e t t e r taste.
P . : A n d n o t at a l l i n a p p r o p r i a t e .
S . : O n the o t h e r h a n d , t h e n , the man who does not possess
t h i n g s of more value than the t h i n g s he composed o r wrote,
t u r n i n g them upside down o v e r a l o n g period o f time, s t i c k i n g
them together and t a k i n g them apart - him, I t h i n k , y o u ' l l
r i g h t l y call a poet o r author of speeches o r writer of laws?
P . : Of course.
S.:
T h e n tell that to y o u r f r i e n d .
P . : A n d w h a t o f y o u ? What w i l l y o u do? F o r we c e r t a i n l y
shouldn't pass over your friend, either.
S.:
Who i s t h a t ?
P.:
The
b e a u t i f u l I s o c r a t e s . What w i l l y o u r e p o r t to
him,
S o c r a t e s ? What t i t l e s h a l l we g i v e him?
S.:
I s o c r a t e s i s s t i l l y o u n g , P h a e d r u s ; b u t I ' d l i k e to
say
what I p r o p h e s y for h i m .
P . : What's that?
S . : H e s e e m s t o me t o b e o n a l e v e l s u p e r i o r t o L y s i a s a n d h i s
speeches i n terms of his natural endowment, and to have a
g r e a t e r n o b i l i t y i n the b l e n d o f his c h a r a c t e r ; so that t h e r e

131

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(279)5 w o u l d b e no s u r p r i s e , as he g r o w s o l d e r , i f i n the v e r y
s p e e c h e s t h a t he w o r k s at now t h e d i f f e r e n c e b e t w e e n him a n d
those who h a v e so far u n d e r t a k e n s p e e c h - w r i t i n g were greater
than that between man and b o y s ; a n d still more, i f he were to
b e u n s a t i s f i e d w i t h t h a t , a n d some d i v i n e r i m p u l s e l e d h i m t o
greater things; for there is innately a certain philosophical
b i n s t i n c t i n the man's m i n d . So that i s the r e p o r t I t a k e from
the g o d s h e r e to I s o c r a t e s as m y b e l o v e d , a n d y o u t a k e the
o t h e r t o L y s i a s as y o u r s .
5 P . : I ' l l d o i t ; b u t let's g o , now t h a t the heat has become
milder.
S.:
S h o u l d n ' t we p r a y to the gods h e r e before we go?
P . : Of course.
S . : D e a r P a n a n d a l l y o u g o d s o f t h i s p l a c e , g r a n t me t h a t I
may become beautiful w i t h i n ; a n d that what i s i n m y possession
c o u t s i d e me m a y b e i n f r i e n d l y a c c o r d w i t h w h a t i s i n s i d e . A n d
may I count t h e wise man as r i c h ; a n d may m y pile o f gold be
, o f a size which o n l y a man o f moderate desires could bear o r
carry.
5
D o w e s t i l l n e e d a n y t h i n g e l s e , P h a e d r u s ? F o r me t h a t
prayer is enough.
P . : M a k e t h e p r a y e r f o r me t o o ; f o r w h a t f r i e n d s h a v e t h e y
share.
S,:
Let's go.

'.

279 b 6 m

132

133

COMMENTARY
227 a 1 - 2 3 0 e 5: the scene is set.
This long introductory section sets the tone o f the whole dialogue: a gentle, unforced
conversation in idyllic surroundings in the middle o f a hot summer's day, outside the wall o f
the city. But all is not quite as harmonious as it seems at first sight. Socrates is not at one
either with Phaedrus or with the beauty o f rhe place. Phaedrus has been to hear Lysias, the
cleverest o f present writers' (228 a 1-2), reciting one o f his inventions, and is utterly
delighted with it. Socrates himself claims to be 'sick with passion for hearing talk' ( l o g o i ) ,
but not, as it will turn out, the sort o f l o g o i (speeches) which so attract Phaedrus, and he
indulges in some harmless mockery o f Phaedrus' enthusiasm for Lysias' work. Speechwriting, and writing in general, we shall discover later, is not an art to be taken too seriously.
Socrates also fails to share completely Phaedrus' simple enjoyment o f the pleasures o f the
countryside; his description o f the spot where the two o f them finally decide to stop (230
b 2 - c 5) is unmistakably mock-rhetorical and ironic. It is emphasised that he is a stranger
outside the walls; Phaedrus acts as his guide. His real business, he explains, is inside the city
he can learn nothing from the country or the trees, only from conversing with his fellowcitizens. What lures him out on this occasion is supposedly the promise o f being told how
Lysias and Phaedrus had occupied their time. The placing o f Socrates in an unfamiliar
physical context thus serves to underline his distance from Phaedrus' and Lysias' concerns.
4

Plato also links themethe value o f products like Lysias'and setting in other ways.
Their chosen spot, Phaedrus says, is just right for young girls to play in; and writing too, as a
medium, will be described as a form o f play. A g a i n , significantly, Socrates lies down to listen
to Phaedrus reading what Lysias has written: after that, and after his own two speeches,
some real business follows, i n the shape o f a serious conversation, conversation or 'dialectic'
being the proper medium for philosophy. The place now turns out after all not to be so alien
to Socrates' concerns: he pointsplayfullyto the cicadas, who provide a model for them by
singing and talking ( d i a l e g e s t h a i ) in the heat. They are messengers o f the Muses, the eldest o f
whom have the m o u s i k e or 'music' o f philosophy as their sphere; and they will report
Socrates and Phaedrus to their patrons i f they sleep instead o f talking ds they should (258
e 6-259 d 8).
If this reading is even partly correct, the present section, which appears as a simple
descriptive piece, is in fact highly contrived, and introduces many o f the themes o f the
dialogue as a whole. O f course the descriptive aspect still remains operative: it is still a
conversation between friends on a hot day in a beautiful place, and although the proceedings
later take a more serious turn, the relaxed note struck here at the beginning hardly alters. In
that sense there is a kind o f realism about Plato's writing in this context. But the description
is also a means to further ends. We must be particularly careful not to regard the passage as
being in any way strictly biographical or historical. A s he typically does, Plato lakes real
characters and certain features o f them (e.g. Socrates* tendency to stay at home) and builds
hir, own constructions on them. The Socrates o f the P h a e d r u s . as o f other dialogues, is the
ideal philosopher, based on the historical Socrates but by no means necessarily identical with
him (see Introduction). Again, the real Phaedrus may have shared the devotion to rhetoric
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C O M M E N T A R Y 227a-d

C O M M E N T A R Y 227d-228b

shown by the character called Phaedrus in the dialogue, but he too is used to represent a
type, or an attitudeas is Lysias. It is not the individual but the class which is being
criticised; Lysias is chosen merely as an example appropriate to the dramatic date of the
dialogue (but see further on 278 e 5 ff.).
227 a 5 'Acumenus': Acumenus' son Eryximachus, also a doctor, is the butt of gentle
parody in the Symposium
(in which, like Phaedrus himself, he is one o f the contributors to
the series o f speeches on love). Note especially 176 c-e, where Phaedrus bows to his
professional opinion that 'drunkenness is a bad thing'. Acumenus' advice here in the
P h a e d r u s seems hardly less superfluous, and a similar note o f parody may be intended: sec
further on d 4 below. But the suggestion that taking one's exercise in the country is 'more
refreshing' (literally 'taking away weariness more', a k o p d t e r o s ) has a further significance in
the light o f the use Plato makes o f the contrast between town and country (see previous
note). Phaedrus' walk, and by association what he is doing on that walk, is a substitute for
more serious business.
b 5 ' M o r y c h u s ' : mentioned several times by Aristophanes for his luxurious way of life.
But on this occasion it was a feast o f words that the guests were enjoying (b 6-7; and cf.
Socrates ironical remark about such 'banquets' at 236 e 7-8).
b 9-11 'above even want of leisure': again, the contrast between the serious and the
unserious. (The quotation from Pindar slightly adapts Isthmians 1.2.) - & v . . . (
shall be likely to . . . ' ) : + future appears in Attic prose, although rarely (see L S J s.v. &
1.2, and de Vries a d l o c ) ; here we might supppose a sudden change o f construction, easily
intelligible in a conversational context. Alternatively, we may avoid the problem by
accepting the less well attested . (Where a potential idea is introduced by a verb of
thinking, saying, etc., is regularly placedas it is herewith the main verb rather than
with the infinitive to which it properly belongs.)
c 3 'appropriate for you to hear': Plato makes his Socrates claim, in the Symposium,
to be
an expert only in matters concerning love, or eros (177 d). Socrates' dealings with young
men, whom he was accused at his trial o f 'corrupting', no doubt had erotic undertones in the
ordinary sense; but on Plato's account, at least, as we discover in Socrates' second speech in
reply to Lysias' in the P h a e d r u s , Socratic eros is directed at something beytfnd mere
individual beauty. True, philosophical, love, both Symposium
and P h a e d r u s tell us, is
awakened by particular beauty, but it has as its ultimate object truth and beauty itself.
c 7 'favours should be granted : i.e. sexual favours. Such euphemisms are the rule in polite
talk, as we might expect. It is exclusively male homosexual love which is being referred to.
On Greek attitudes to homosexuality, see Sir Kenneth Dover's Introduction to his edition of
ihe Symposium,
and his G r e e k H o m o s e x u a l i t y (= Dover (1978)). Orators typically chose
paradoxical theses for their display speeches: perhaps the most famous extant example is
Gorgias' E n c o m i u m o f H e l e n , which sets out to clear Helen o f all blame for her dopcmcnl
with P a r i s which caused the Trojan War.
c 9 'a poor man': Socrates' poverty was a consequence, according to the A p o I < w y , of hi*
devotion to philosophy.
d 2 'for the common good': as all rhetoric should be, on Plato's account (see lair: parts of
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136

the P h a e d r u s , and especially the G o r g i a s ) , though o f course he has a rather higner

conception o f what that good is than what is indicated here.
d 4 'as Herodicus recommends : it is not clear exactly what Herodicus, a doctor and expert
in physical training, did recommend; the Greek could mean that he recommended running
(?or walking) up to a wall and back again; or running up to a wall, climbing it, and back (see
de Vries). But I have taken the referenceprobably illegitimately, but little hangs on itto
be to the kind o f method used by present-day athletes and sportsmen to train for speed and
agility: short sprint, turn, and back. N o short sprint to Megara, o f course; more a Marathon.
The references to Herodicus' and Acumenus' expert medical advice nicely balances the later
theme o f the rules o f art devised by the various (supposedly) expert rhetoricians, which are
directly compared with doctors' prescriptions (266 d ff.). There are some particularly caustic
remarks about Herodicus and his 'expertise' at R e p u b l i c 406 a-b. (Megara, incidentally, was
his birthplace.)
228 a 1-2 'the cleverest of present writers': i.e. o f speeches. Lysias is cleverest o f those in
Socrates' time; at the end o f the dialogue there is a reference to Isocrates, Lysias' counter
part among Plato's contemporaries.
228 a 5 - c 5. This speech o f Socrates' is given in the style o f the law-court. Phaedrus is
neatly manoeuvred into the third person, and becomes the defendant: Socrates then gives the
prosecution's version o f events, which the detailed narrative form represents as straight
forwardly factual; whereas he knows, and we know, that it is no more than a plausible
reconstruction (indeed it is soon shown to be wrong on one crucial point: Phaedrus has not
just learned the speech o f f by heart, he has actually borrowed it). Plato is here indulging in
a minor parody o f the techniques attributed later i n the dialogue to the rhetorician Tisias
(273 a 6 ff.): Socrates, and Phaedrus too, are dealing i n Tisias' 'probabilities'compare
especially the defence recommended for the brave weakling on trial for attacking and
robbing a strong coward'how could someone like me have attacked someone like h i m ? '
with Phaedrus' 'how could / , an amateur, remember Lysias?' This is not the most important
way, however, i n which the present passage looks forward to later themes. M o r e important is
that it identifies Phaedrus and Lysias as examples o f the sort o f people who by the end will
have become the main butt o f Plato's criticism: people who attach too much value to written
productions. The mock seriousness o f the passage, the long drawing-out o f the interchange,
until we finally discover that Phaedrus has the speech itself with h i m , and the elaborate
preparations made before he reads it, all effectively contribute towards the same point.
a 8 - b 1 'Lysias responded readily': Lysias (so Socrates, at least, suggests) shares
Phaedrus' enthusiasm for his own master-work.
b 3 'he sat from sun-up': a deliberate and gently ironic echo o f Phaedrus' own words at
227 a 4.
D 4 'actually': 'actually' is intended to give the effect o f the Greek ne t o n k u n a , literally 'by
the dog*, evidently a favourite expression o f Socrates', used here for emphasis. ( A n ancient
explanation o f the oath is that it 'avoided swearing by the gods', though Socrates himself
does that too. W h y 'the dog' is anybody's guess.)
b 4-5 'knowing the speech quite off by heart': to judge from Phaedrus' next reply but one.
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C O M M E N T A R Y 228b-229c

C O M M E N T A R Y 229c

this means knowing the speech word for w o r d . A s is shown by what he says both there and
before Socrates* present contribution, there would be other degrees o f 'remembering' it.
b 6 ff. 'sick with passion for hearing people speak / ' a companion i n his manic frenzy /
'the one i n love with speeches : i n view o f the conclusion to be reached about the nature of
true, Socratic, love, these are only partially metaphors. Socrates here indulges i n some
pretence on his own account; i f we do not already know that the l o g o i he and Phaedrus are
in love with are o f different kinds, we will soon discover the fact. Both here and i n the
P h a e d r u s as a whole, the term l o g o s is thoroughly ambiguous, i n a way which cannot be
reproduced properly i n English: Lysias' l o g o s is a (written) speech; l o g o i will be either
speeches, or discourse i n some wider sense, including conversation; or just 'words', 'things
said', since l o g o s comes from the same root as l e g e i n , the basic Greek word for saying,
speaking or telling.
b 7 'seeing h i m , seeing . . .*: the repetition o f 'seeing' ( i d o n ) is striking, and its point less
than immediately obvious (contrast the repetition at 242 d 4); but it is well attested, and we
should probably have the courage to accept it. Denniston 365 hesitantly suggests that it is a
'poetical quotation or reminiscence' (with emphatic ), and this is perhaps right: we may
think especially o f the frequent use o f analogous repetitions i n Euripidean choruses, which
Aristophanes makes fun o f in F r o g s (1309 f f ) . The reference here too i n Plato will he
playful: it simultaneously prepares the way for the decidedly unprosaic idea contained i n the
phrase t o n s u n k o r u b a n t i d n t a , ' a companion i n his manic frenzy', and undermines its effect:
the true frenzy o f love belongs not to the lover o f speeches, but to the p h i l o s o p h o s , the philo
sopher or lover o f wisdom, ( s u n k o r u b a n t i o , which may be a special coining o f Plato's own,
is literally 'join i n the rites o f the Corybantes', mythical attendants o f Cybele associated with
possession and madness.) F r o m this sudden flight into 'poetry' we return immediately to
prose, with the flat 'and told him to lead on*. - : 'he was delighted to see him,
(because he thought) that he would h a v e . . . '
9

d 6 'Yes, my dear f e l l o w . . . ' : so the truth is finally out; and Plato finally reveals his main
target, the written work itself and its writer.
e 3 ' S t o p : Phaedrus gives in like a defeated wrestler.
e 4 'flexing my muscles on y o u : literally 'using you to train o n ' . Plato here hints at th<
current techniques o f rhetorical education, which depend heavily on the use o f model
speeches; later i n the dialogue he will have Socrates suggest a reformed type o f rhetoric, and
a better type o f education.
229 a 3-4 'you always are . In the Symposium,
Socrates unusually puts something on his
feet to go out to dinner. Xenophon interprets Socrates' habit o f going barefoot as a sign of
the poverty caused by his preoccupation with philosophy ( M e m o r a b i l i a I. v i . 2; see on 227
c 9 above). We are expected to be in on the joke, that this feature fits him for paddling in the
Ilissus; perhaps Phaedrus is not.
b 2 , : 'exepegetic infinitives.
b 5 'Boreas : the north wind, and simultaneously (according to the story) an anthropo
morphic god.
c 2 : literally 'the (part) belonging to ('lying i n , Verdenius 267-8) Agra*.
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138

A g r a or Agrae was, one o f the demes or administrative districts of A t t i c a .

c 4 'for goodness sake ( p r o s D i o s ) : Phaedrus expresses surprise at Socrates' half-implied
acceptance o f the 'fairy-tale'. ('Fairy-tale* renders m u t h o l o g e m a , 'mythical account : the
root word muthos
frequently, as here, suggests fictionality, though it by no means always
does so, or to the same degree.)
c 6 ff. 'like the experts : Plato often uses the expression h o i s o p h o i ironically to refer to
supposed experts whose wisdom ( s o p h i a ) he is inclined to doubt ( might cleverly say'
translates sophizomenos
p h a i e n a n , might say, using their wisdom/expertise'). Elsewhere,
e.g. in Book II o f the R e p u b l i c , Plato's Socrates dismisses as lies all those stories or myths
which represent the gods as anything other than paradigms o f rationality and goodness; and
the same view o f the gods will be restated in the P h a e d r u s itself (which also treats them as
souls without bodies, rejecting anthropomorphism: 246 b 5 ff.). It would then be disturbing
to find Socrates seriously proposing to accept the present story, which is plainly inconsistent
with that view. But in fact he does not. A l l that he suggests is that he doesn't share the
rationalising attitude towards it adopted by the s o p h o i . H e has more important things to
think about (e 4 ff.); meanwhile he is prepared to believe 'what is commonly thought' (230
2). If there are aspects o f the tradition which we should expect him to want to question, as a
by-product o f his own investigations, still his general inclination will be to abide by it. The
approach o f the 'experts' could only be justified by a lengthy study o f a l l the myths (229
d 4 ff.), and he has no time for that.
W h y the attack o n the rationalists, just here i n the dialogue? Perhaps it is just an oppor
tunistic side-swipe at a current fashion i n interpretation. But it is hard to resist the suggestion
(cf. de Vries on 229 e 6) that Plato also intends the passage to prepare the way for the
extended use which Socrates himself will make o f mythical ideas later in trie P h a e d r u s ,
especially in his second set speech on love. Admittedly, what Socrates does in that or any
other similar context could scarcely be described in terms o f a passive acceptance o f
traditional ideasit is there, for example, that he advances the decidedly untraditional view
of the gods referred to above; in Plato, as we shall see, such ideas are typically subjected to a
creative and often radical transformation in accordance with his own particular literary and
philosophical ends. But this kind o f method is far removed from that o f the rationalists
attacked here. Constructions on mythical themes play an important role in Platonic
exposition, andas he may mean to tell us in this passagethey usually have no straight
forward cash value; they are not translatable into non-mythical terms without remainder.
Above all, he is committed to the idea both that gods exist, and that their existence is relevant
to human life. If his gods are often very different from the traditional ones, he is normally
content to call them by the same names; and in any dispute between 'science' and theology,
his natural sympathies will be with theology.
would not be extraordinary ( a t o p o s : cf. a t o p i a in e 1): in Hackforth's version, should
be quite in the fashion'. But the basic meaning o f a t o p o s , 'out o f place' ( a - t o p o s ) , could also
be in playas things are, Socrates i s out o f place, in the sense that he finds himself in an
unfamiliar context (cf. pp. 135-6 above); and his rejection o f the fashionable interpre
tation isolates him further.
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C O M M E N T A R Y 229d-230a

C O M M E N T A R Y 230b

d 1-2 'or else from the A r e o p a g u s . . . she was seized': these words perhaps seem to hang
somewhat uneasily off the end o f the sentence, and add nothing which would obviously be
missed i f they were not there; it is therefore tempting to treat them, as a number of editors
have done, as an extraneous comment by an anonymous hand which subsequently became
incorporated into the text (cf. note on 257 d 9 - e 1). A more violent solution adopted by
others is to place the words at the end o f Phaedrus' question i n b 4 - 5 . But on balance it seems
better to keep them. Socrates has an afterthought: 'it's also said . . . ' W e should remember
that he is still stating the rationalists' case; and it will clearly be grist to their mill i f there is
more than one version o f the storyif we are going for the literal interpretation, which
version should we choose?
d 7-e 2 'strange hordes . . . ' : I take ( as a hendiadys, equivalent to
(with mildly transferred epithet), and a l l five genitives as belonging together; alter
natively the first two belong to and the last three to ('curiosities', de Vries). But
the effect is the same i n either case.
e 5-6 'the Delphic inscription': i.e. the famous maxim g n o t h i s a u t o n ('know thyself)
carved on, or i n , the temple o f A p o l l o at Delphi. Plato comments playfully on its laconic
nature (and that o f its twin, 'nothing i n excess*) at P r o t a g o r a s 342 e-343 b. Here, however,
he puts a special interpretation on it, probably extending a genuinely Socratic idea (see on
230 a 3-6).
230 a 2 'believing what is commonly thought': see note o n 229 c 6 ff. If 'believing' here is
taken in any strong sense, this is actually a rather unusual thing for Plato's Socrates to do; he
normally treats the question o f what other people think as quite irrelevant to the questidn of
what he himself should think (cf. e.g. 270 c 6-7, with note). But we need not press the point;
it is just that he doesn't disbelieve. If he d i d , he would have had to have thought about it,
which he hasn't.
a 3-6 inquire . . . into myself, to see whether I am actually a beast more complex and
more violent than Typhon . . . ' : once again, Socrates looks forward to later developments in
the P h a e d r u s . Knowledge about the nature o f the soul w i l l be said to be one of the require
ments of a proper science of rhetoric, based on dialectic (270 b ff.; but see especially 277
c 2-3 with note). Socrates' second speech on love will compare the soul to a charioteer and
his two horses, one good and one bad (246 a ff.): the charioteer stands for reason, the good
horse for our higher emotions, the bad for appetite. The image is a development of one
found in the R e p u b l i c (588 b ff.), where the three 'parts' o f the soul are represented
respectively by a pian, a lion, and a many-headed beasthence, probably, the reference in
the present passage to Typhon: Typhon (or Typhoeus) was a hundred-headed dragon, with
arms and legs to match, who was the last obstacle between Zeus and the kingship of the gods
(Hesiod, Theogony
820 ff.). Both P h a e d r u s and R e p u b l i c answer the question Socrates
poses: he, and each one of us, does indeed share 'some divine and un-Typhonic portion by
nature', in the shape o f reason; and it is this element, not the beast o f appetite, which
naturally rules in us, and represents our true selves (it is the man, what is truly human, in us).
- 'violent' translates e p i t e t h u m m e n o n , from e p i t u p h e s t h a i , 'to be inflamed', used e.g. by
Aristophanes of someone consumed by lust. - 'some divine and un-Typhonic portion': for
140

rationality as an essential feature o f divinity, see on 229 c 6 ff. above; 'un-Typhonic*

translates a t u p h o u . The main point is obviously the further play on the name Typhon; the
divine 'portion* in us lacks those features being associated with Typhon. But a t u p h o s also
has a specific meaning o f its o w n , i.e. 'lacking t u p h o s . A s de Vries says, tuphos
can mean
'pride' in fourth-century Greek; another meaning is 'delusion', 'craziness' (compare the
related verb t u p h o o ) . The original Typhon was certainly puffed up, since he stood in Zeus'
path, as appetite stands i n the path o f reason; but in the light o f the theme o f the later
speeches on love (love as madness),
the second connotation is also likely to be relevant.
The context subtly blends Socratic and Platonic elements, the Socratic emphasis on the
need for self-knowledge, together with the Platonic hypothesis o f the three 'parts' o f the
s<wl. F o r Socrates, 'knowing oneself seems to have meant recognising the importance o f
one's soul, o f one's spiritual or moral health, by contrast with the body, i.e. ordinary
material concerns; Plato now reads the injunction against the background o f a developed
psychological theory.
b 2 ff. ' B y H e r a , a fine (or 'beautiful', k a l o s ) stopping-place!': Socrates pretends to share
Phaedrus' enthusiasm for the place; 'by H e r a ' , an oath apparently used especially by
women, may be intended to pick up what Phaedrus said at 229 b 8-9 ('just right for young
girls'). (Should we also bear in mind the etymological association suggested at C r a t y h t s
404 b between Hera and aer, ' a i r ' ? C f . c 9 t o e u p n o u n t o u t o p o u , 'the freshness o f the breeze
in the place'.) H e then proceeds to outdo Phaedrus with his own eulogyin much the same
way that his speeches on love will later claim to outdo Lysias'. I f we are at all inclined to take
this passage as a straightforward expression o f genuine feeling, b 7 and perhaps also c 1 (see
notes) will warn us against it. In de Vries's view, the passage is a mixture o f the ironical and
the genuine: in the latter respect 'it is a kind o f prelude to the praise o f k a l l o s ('beauty')' in
250 c 8 ff. This seems possible; but the signs are that irony is at least the more important
element. The piece is done in imitation o f poetic ideal landscapes (cf. e.g. the description o f
the nymph Calypso's island in Odyssey
5. 63 ff.): see de Vries's detailed comments, and his
suggestions for further reading.
b 2-4 'the plane-tree is very spreading and tall, and the tallness and shadiness of the
agnus . . . ' : the height o f the trees is matched by the stateliness o f Socrates' style. Signi
ficance has been found in the choice o f these particular species o f trees: Helmbold and
Holther (389), like Ficino, regard the agnus ( v i t e x agnus castus)
as symbolising true Socratic
love; while the plane-tree 'may serve for discourse itself (390). The grounds for the latter
suggestionPhaedrus* oath by the plane at 236 d-e, and the presence o f planes in the agora
and (according to Pliny) in the Academyare slim, but might be good enough. W i t h the
agnus, which was held in antiquity to have anti-aphrodisiac properties, the case at first sight
looks marginally stronger, though de Vries is sceptical ('there is no need to seek profundities
in its mention*); and we may add that any tight connection discovered between the agnus and
Socrates
would tend to work against the interpretation offered both o f the passage itself, as
ironic, and o f the whole introductory section as depicting Socrates in an alien environment.
Given the obvious care and attention to detail with which the P h a e d r u s is written (cf. note on
278 d 9-e 1), it is difficult to avoid looking for significance, i f not profundity, in every aspect
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C O M M E N T A R Y 230b-234c

C O M M E N T A R Y 230e-234c

of it; on the other hand plane-trees, and the agnus, are and evidently were common in Attica;
and the significance o f the agnus may simply lie in the denseness o f its shade, and its flowers,
which Socrates singles out in his description.
b7 judge by my foot : the bathos is increased by the immediate juxtaposition of the
reference to nymphs and to Achelous ('the river-god p a r e x c e l l e n c e ' , de Vries).
b 8 'figurines and statuettes': presumably votive offerings.
c 1 'Then again, i f you like': perhaps ambiguous between a polite 'then again, please see
how' (cf. e.g. Symposium
201 a), and 'then againit's a l l the same to mesee how', under
cutting the following exclamation.
c 6 'the oddest person': the word again is a t o p o s ; see on 229 c 6 ff.
d 3 'won't teach me anything': i.e. they refuse to; they keep obstinately silent.
d 8-e 1 'round all A t t i c a ' : but he promptly lies d o w n . It is l o g o i o f a different kindnot
those in bookswhich interest h i m .
9

230 e 6-234 c 5: Lysias' speech.

Plato chooses to attack Lysias in particular because he is (so Phaedrus says) 'the cleverest
of present writers'that is, at the dramatic date o f the dialogue. Is the speech Phaedrus
reads genuinely Lysias', or is it a Platonic invention? Plato's known skill at parody (see
especially the speeches o f Aristophanes and Agathon i n the Symposium)
means that no
amount o f comparison with what are known to be genuine speeches o f Lysias can decide the
issue one way or another, and the relevant evidence has i n fact been interpreted in opposite
ways (see de Vries). There are undoubtedly some Lysianic and non-Platonic features, but we
should o f course expect these equally whether it is Lysias himself or Plato imitating Lysias.
For an admirably concise summing up o f these issues, see Dover (1968) 69-71 (the argument
is made more complicated, as he points out, by the fact that we have no other examples of
such display speeches by Lysias). If we look at Plato's practice elsewhere in handling
opponents, it is true that he never seems to make extensive v e r b a t i m use of an individual's
published works; even when there appears to be a clear opportunity for him to do so, as, e.g.
with Protagoras, on the occasion of the 'Great Speech' at P r o t a g o r a s 320 c ff., he evidently
prefer to construe his own version of the man's arguments, no doubt in order to suit the
demands o f the surrounding context. This perhaps raises a third possibility: that 'Lysias"
speech is neither wholly Lysias' nor wholly Plato's, but an adaptation o f a Lysianic original.
But i f there was an existing speech o f Lysias' on the same subject, why should Plato have
changed it? Not, surely, to make it an easier target. Either Lysias wrote it much as we have
it, or Plato wrote it on Lysianic principles. De Vries, who can regularly be relied on for a
balanced view, finally accepts the verdict o f Thesleff: 'constructing a speech according to all
conventional rules, and then destroying it, seems to me to be a rather more Platonic play
with styles than quoting at length a piece o f mediocre contemporary oratory*. Yet if it i s
mediocre, does not that raise questions o f its own? One might well ask about the propriety of
Plato's inventing a poor speech on Lysias' behalf, and then criticising Lysias for it. We
might preserve Plato's claim to artistic integrity (which we should presumably allow in any
case, in the a b s e n t r.f overwhelming evidence) by saying that he is quite capable of
142

producing an accurate caricature. But that does not seem quite enough. 1 myself believe,
without any great conviction, that the speech is Lysias' ownas indeed Plato repeatedly says
it is (though de Vries takes that as telling the other way). See further on 233 b 6 - c 1 below.
Just how bador goodis the speech? What is likely to strike the reader most immedi
ately is the apparently haphazard manner o f its construction, and this Is indeed the main
criticism which Socrates will later level at it (264 b 3-4: 'the elements o f the speech seem to
have been thrown together i n a random heap'). But this judgement is perhaps only
partly fair.
Analysis:
The speech, as Phaedrus announced at the beginning (227 c 5-8), is i n the form o f an
address to a ' b o y ' . ( ' B o y ' , p a i s , is the standard term for the junior partner i n a homosexual
relationship; typically he would be someone i n between childhood and full manhoodand
so here, since we are dealing with types.) The speaker tries to persuade the boy to give i n to
him. despite the fact that he is not i n love with him (or so he claims); indeed -lover is
always to be preferred to lover. After his initial statement o f the situation, he tells the boy o f
the attitudes which lover and non-lover will adopt towards h i m after the end o f the affair:
I. L the lover will repent o f what he has done for you when his desire ceases, while the nonlover has no occasion for repentance (231 a 2-6); 1.2. the lover will reckon up his profits and
losses, and consider his account closed, while the non-lover has incurred no losses and will
continue to be open-handed (231 a 6 - b 7); 1.3. when the lover later falls in love with others,
he'll maltreat y o u i f they want it, just as he's now ready to be disliked by other people i f it
pleases you (231 b 7 - c 7); 1.4. since the lover is out o f his m i n d , it makes no sense to give in
to h i m , because when he recovers his mind, he'll regret what he d i d before (231 c 7 - d 6).
?1.5. Moreover' ( k a i men d e ) , i f you choose from tnose not i n love with y o u , your range ot
choice will be greater, so that y o u ' l l have a greater expectation o f finding someone worthy o f
your affection (231 d 6 - e 2: an apparently quite unconnected point; but the underlying
thought may be 'how could anyone i n the l o v e r ' s conditionas just describedbe worthy o f
your affection?).
II. 1-2. Y o u may have some fears. If you're afraid o f what people will think o f you (sc. for
having a sexual relationship), still the non-lover has the advantage . . . (developed i n two
ways, joined by e t i d e , 'and again', like 1.1-3: 231 e 4 - 2 3 2 a 6 = I I . l ; 232 a 6 - b 5 = 11.2).
II. 3. 'Moreover', i f you're frightened that it's hard in general for friendship to last, and that
in this case it's you who will have lost everything, here too you have more reason to fear the
lover, who will deprive you o f all kinds o f potentially beneficial relationships; i f you
associate with the non-lover, y o u ' l l have a much greater expectation o f gaining friends than
enemies (232 b 5 - e 2; compare the similar refrain at the end o f 1.5).
III. 1. 'Moreover, a lover's affection is often based on mere physical attraction, rather
than on a knowledge o f the character o f the beloved, so that it may come to an end 'when his
desire ceases' (see 1.1); with the non-lover, the sexual relationship serves rather to cement an
already existing affection (232 e 3-233 a 4). 'Moreover* (III.2,233 a 4 - c 6), y o u ' d become a
better person by listening to me (? developing the reference to character i n I I I . l ; cf. also the
reference to benefits in II.3, which include benefits o f a moral kind): the lover praises the
%

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C O M M E N T A R Y 230e-234c

C O M M E N T A R Y 230*231 c

wrong things, partly out o f calculation, partly because desire obscures his judgement, and
when matters go badly for him, he is distressed by things which cause no pain to anyone else
(for a similar idea, see also 11.3, 232 c 3-4). I, o n the other hand, will not associate with you
for the sake o f present pleasure, but also for the sake o f benefits to come, because I am in
control o f myself. 7III.3. But i f you are worried that only affection based on love can be
strong, note that on that account you would not value your father or mother . . . (233
c 6 - d 4: as with 1.5, no immediately obvious connection with the substance o f the preceding
point; but i s c h u r a p h i l i a , 'strong affection', is presumably intended to pick up and contrast
with i s c h u r a e c h t h r a in c 2, which by itself, as my translation'starting v i o l e n t h o s t i l i t i e s '
fails to make clear, would be its precise opposite: have said that I will not be roused to
strong enmity; you may wonder i f 1 am capable o f strong a f f e c t i o n . . . ' ) .
I V . l (233 d 5-e 5) ' A n d again', i f we should grant favours to those who need them most,
this will have the following odd consequences . . . I V . 2 . But i n fact we should not grant
favours to those who stand in need o f them, but to those who are best able to make a return;
not to those who will take advantage o f your youth, but to those who will share their goods
with you when you become older . . . (233 e 5-234 b 1: five pairs o f contrasting relative
clauses, which serve to summarise the speech as a whole). So remember all this, and bear in
mind (7IV.3) that his friends will admonish a man for being i n love, while no one ever
objected to anyone's making the wrong decisions about his o w n affairs for not being in love
(234 b 1 - 5 : a further apparently unconnected point, like 1.5 and III.3).
V . I . Afterthought: it might seem to follow from what I have said that you should yield to
all non-lovers, not just to me. O f course not: neither would the lover tell you to yield to all
those in love with you, because . . . (234 b 6 - c 4). V . 2 . E n o u g h said* ask me i f I've left
anything out (234 c 4-5).
The division into sections (I-V) mirrors Burnet's paragraphing i n the Oxford text, which I
have retained (after some hesitation). A s the analysis above suggests, each section represents
a reasonably distinct block of sense, in most cases with some sort o f connection between the
constituent parts. T o this extent, then, there is a kind o f order to the speech. Even where the
connection of thought seems to be lost, it is probably wrong to regard this as carelessness.
The seemingly casual addition o f I V . 3 , for example, after the 'summary', has the effect of
drawing our attention to what is certainly one o f the author's more strikingly artificial
conceits; and an interpretation along similar lines may be applicable to 1.5 and III.3, though
there the logical connections are slightly stronger. But the best example of this type of
method is provided by V : what is presented merely as an afterthought tacked on at the end is
in fact the most deliberately contrived part o f the speech, and confirms its underlying
toneempty, clever, rhetorical, and essentially playful. (To complain, as Hackforth does,
of 'the banality of [its] sentiment' is to take it too seriously: it is a deliberate p a i g n i o n , 'a
plaything', as Gorgias describes his Helencoming
clean, like Lysias, at the very end. See
Dover (1968) 59.)
In one sense, therefore, Socrates is wrong to dismiss the speech as a 'random heap*. But
the defence just mounted would not have impressed him much; that is, he would not have
been impressed i f it had been pointed out to him just that there is 'some sort o f reason why
144

the thing is ordered as it is. A s he suggests (264 b 4 ff.), there is no logical necessity
about its
arrangement. The fact is that the author is much more concerned with the turning o f
individual ideas than he is with working these into a unified whole. In many cases we might
easily change the order either o f the main 'sections' or o f their parts without materially
altering the total effect. In its own terms, the speech works well enough, despite 235 a 2-3
(see note). (Lysias might even be rather pleased by what Socrates says at 264 b 5-7, to the
effect that 'the writer seemed to me to have written down just what happened to occur to
h i m ' : he has worked hard to achieve the impression o f spontaneity.) But the standards
Socrafe* will demand are quite different: a decent speech must be an organic whole, which
begins at the beginning, with a definition o f its terms, and then argues through i n a logically
systematic way to its conclusion. H e will shortly offer a model, in the shape o f his o w n rival
speech on Lysias' subject: a model o f a more refined, and potentially more serious, type o f
rhetoric.
230 e 6 ' Y o u know how matters are with me': just what i s the supposed situation o f the
speaker? H e says he is not in love with ( e r a n ) the boy, but he wants to sleep with h i m ('that
this should happen', e 7: more euphemism; note too the suppression o f the proposition
itself). H e suggests (233 a 1-4) that they are already on friendly terms. The proposal is then
evidently just that they should add that little extra to the usual benefits o f friendship: note
the use made o f the idea o f advantage ( s u m p h e r e i n ) . Dover (1978), 52-3, argues that the
junior partner would not conventionally be expected to derive physical pleasure from the
encounter (cf. 255 e 1-2); in which case the 'advantage' would seem to be on one side. N o
doubt that is part o f the point, though for the boy there would presumably be the promise o f
increased goodwill, i.e. o f advantages in the ordinary sense. The speaker i n Socrates' rival
speech is i n love, but pretends not to be; Plato thus avoids even a fictional association
between Socrates and desire o f a purely physical k i n d , though he presents h i m as knowing
enough about it (see 253 c 7 ff.). Physical desire itself would normally come within the scope
of the meaning o f e r a n and e r o s : in the Symposium
(180 c ff.) it is called eros
pandemos,
'common love'. This point is, I believe, essential to an understanding o f the full paradox o f
Lysias' thesis. The speaker implicitly claims not only that he is not in love with the boy, but
that he does not desire him physically either; it is to be a purely businesslike transaction.
There are arguments against a boy's giving in to a lover (see 231 e ff.); what possible reason
could there be for his giving in to someone who does not even find h i m physically attractive?
(But presumably desireor rather lustis present; why else the proposition?)
231 a 2 : causal, introducing all the arguments which will now be given for what has just
been said. - : '(of those things) which', the regular attraction o f the relative into the case
of the antecedent.
a 4 'under compulsion': i.e. the compulsion o f love. The man i n love cannot help himself;
a recurring theme i n the P h a e d r u s (cf. also Gorgias, H e l e n 19).
b L . . . : generic ('the class o f non-lovers').
b 7 ' w i l l please the other party': the same verb, c h a r i z e s t h a U is used o f the 'granting of.
favours' by the boy to his lover (first at 227 c 7).
c 7 'such a thing': i.e. what the speaker is asking for.
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C O M M E N T A R Y 233a-c

d 1-2: an elaboration o f the idea o f the 'compulsion* exerted by love.

d 2-3 ' t h e y . . . agree that they are sick ( n o s e i n ) rather than i n their right mind ( s o p h r o n e i n )
. . . ' : what they actually admit to, I presume, is that they are sick w i t h p a s s i o n , i.e. sick in a
metaphorical sense (cf. Socrates* description o f himself at 228 b 6); s o p h r o n e i n is used with
its basic meaning, 'having one's mind sound*. Lovers are o f f their heads; Socrates will later
claim that they are actually insane. F o r s o p h r o n e i n i n a different sense ('restraint*,
'moderation', 'self-control'), see 237 e 3.
d 6-e 2: a more complex idea than appears at first sight. W e begin with a straightforward
and obvious opposition between few and many; but from that is drawn the paradoxical
notion that the best will be found among 'the many', i.e. the common run o f mankind (cf.
Euripides E l e c t r o 382, which uses almost identical words: 'though one o f the many, he was
found to be best'). But at the same time 'among the many' can be understood in a more
innocent way: i.e. 'among the many just mentioned*. - 'the best': sufficiently explained by
'most congenial' and worthy o f your affection'; not to be taken i n a specifically moral sense,
or indeed in any specific sense at all.
e 3 ff.: on the complexity o f the attitudes o f Greek society towards homosexual love, see
especially Symposium
182 d ff., with Dover's commentary ('we may compare heterosexual
societies in which women are expected to say " n o " but men are expected to go on trying to
make them say " y e s " ' , p. 4), and Dover (1978) 81 ff.
232 a 1: on the position o f , see on 227 b 9-11.
a 5-6 'will choose what is b e s t . . ' : i.e. ju<* because they are i n control o f themselves. If
society approves o f and encourages the lover's pursuit, open boasting on his part about his
achievements would be considered bad form. Instead o f courting public opinion, the speaker
and his ilk will resolutely 'do the right thing'but that, o f course, will presuppose their
having done what the boy won't want mentioned.
b 7. The added by some editors is, as de Vries says, unnecessary: ' i f you think that it is a
misfortune* makes perfectly good sense, represents a 'gnomic' aorist, indicating
something which occurs regularly or habitually: cf. e 4 .
d 4-5 . . . . . . : past tenses, because we are now talking about a
time after the physical relationship has begun.
d 5 'merit': a r e t e ('virtue*, 'excellence'). The affection ( p h i l i a ) which the 'boy' feels
for his lover is conventionally based on gratitude mixed with admiration (Dover (1978) 53).
Whether the non-lover's position is actually consistent with 'merit' o f any sort is another
matter.
d 7 'helped by the presence of the former': i.e. because the presence o f others will help to
camouflage their own intentions (cf. b 2-5).
e 3 'Moreover' ( k a i men d e ) : there is perhaps as much i n common between this
'paragraph' and the preceding one as there is between any two parts o f the speech (see
analysis above), and k a i men de, which appears five times in a l l , is elsewhere used to join
together smaller points rather than whole 'sections'. O n the other hand it might well be that
the speaker would pause on d 7-e 2, with its presumably deliberate echo o f 231 d 8 ~e 1.
233 a 1 'since they were friends with each other': i.e. since they and the 'boys' they
146

proposition were friends.

a 2 'the things from which they benefit': i f the boy sleeps with his non-lover, it will be just
another good turn done for a friend (see on 230 e 6).
a 4-5 'you should become a better person': given the imbalance in the relationship between
an older and a younger man, the shift to the idea o f lover as moral tutor is easy enough
(however incongruous it may seem to us): cf. Phaedrus' and Pausanias' speeches in the
Symposium.
- : used in a somewhat specialised sense, as with the English Ought' or
'should''such and such should occur', meaning that it w i l l , other things being equal (ct. de
Vries on 231 a 4; though it seems quite possible to take the verb there i n its commoner sense
of fittingness or appropriateness, as also at 233 b 6).
b 6 'to want to emulate them': z e l o u n . C f . the use o f the same verb at 232 a 2 ('those in
love think they would be envied by everyone else').
b 6 - c 1 'with an eye not to present pleasure, but also to the benefit which is to come':
Dimock 392-3 describes this as a 'choice example o f eating one's cake and having it too . . .
The first clause is very ascetic and high-minded (no pleasure), while the second offers longterm benefits, plus a hint o f present pleasure after a l l . ' This is an attractive interpretation,
but perhaps goes a little too far. The speaker does notquitedeny that there will be
pleasure even in the first clause, but rather depreciates it: 'what I shall be looking after
( ? t h e r a p e u e i n ) when I am with you/associate with you is not (the) present pleasure, but also
the benefit to come'and understandably, i f the pleasure is going to be his rather than the
boy's (see on 230 e 6). Greek authors do sometimes drop the 'only* ( m o n o n ) in not o n l y / b u t
also constructions: cf. e.g. Thucydides I V . 92, where Dimock has difficulty i n finding any
special effect. Yet here in the P h a e d r u s there may still be something in what he says, i n the
sense that the speaker only really comes clean in the second clause: 'it's not the pleasure I'm
afterwell, that too, b u t . . . ' (Dimock, incidentally, is one o f those who believe the speech
to be a parody by Plato. The particle group k a i men de is chief exhibit: used more frequently
by Lysias than by others, but occurring with a higher frequency here than in genuine
Lysias'thus k a i men de is one o f Lysias' most characteristic expressions, and Plato
exaggerates his use o f i t ' . But a different explanation might be that the relatively disjointed
form o f the P h a e d r u s speech by itself causes a higher incidence o f artificial linking devices.)
c 3-4 : a periphrasis for , balancing i n
c 2-3; yet at the same time, oddly, the introduction o f disturbs the balance between
the two clauses.
c 6 'But if, after a l l ' : the effect o f ei d ' a r a is to suggest a sudden new thought (Denniston
37-8), probably prompted by c 2 i s c h u r a e c h t h r a (see analysis).
c 7 'affection': i.e. p h i l i a . The word is often translated as 'friendship', but its meaning is
potentially much wider: so here, by implication, one can feel p h i l i a for one's close relations
as well as for one's friends ( p h i l o i , d 2); it is also the term naturally used by the 'boy* for his
feelings towards his lover (255 e 1-2; cf. 231 e l - 2 ) . If we take the present line at its face
value, the lover himself can be p h i l o s as well as erastes
to the boy (cf. also 231 c 1-2), biit
q u a lover he would normally be distinguished from the p h i l o s , as d 2-4 confirms. The
speaker's own position is o f course highly ambiguous, and c 6 - d 4 as a whole nicely plays on
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C O M M E N T A R Y 233d-234c

C O M M E N T A R Y 234o235a

that ambiguity: 'can I feel strong affection for you without being in love with you? Of
course: we do for sons, fathers, mothers, friends too without desiring them, and without the
practices which go along with that'but it is precisely some o f those 'practices' which he is
proposing; i f he is not the boy's erastes,
neither will he be his friend in the ordinary sense, let
alone a second father.
d 5 'those who need them most': d e o m a i could also be translated 'ask for', 'press for' (cf.
232 d 5 ) ; both meanings are probably present.
d 6-7. For the evidently conventional notion that one ought to restrict one's generosity to
'the best people', see Aristotle's essay o n 'liberality' ( e l e u t h e r i a ) in N i c o m a c h e a n E t h i c s
I V . 1 : the liberal man gives 'to the people he s h o u l d ' . There are some people, for example,
Aristotle suggests, who 'ought to be p o o r ' , i.e. presumably those who are in some way or
another responsible for their poverty. But in our own society, too, the idea o f the 'deserving
poor' has recently enjoyed something o f a revival.
d 8 ' w i l l be most grateful': Aristotle's liberal m a n , by contrast, gives 'for the sake of the
fine', i.e. just because it is the right thing to do. But i n that, perhaps, he would not be typical
of Greek society generally, in which the idea o f reciprocity runs deep.
e 2 'filling u p ' : deliberate coarseness, suggesting the grossness o f the
erastes.
e 2 - 5 *for they will treat their benefactors fondly . . . ' : the description is carefully
constructed, each succeeding item gradually increasing i n weight (something missed by the
translation), until the last, where 'most' and 'by no means the least' ( o u k e l a c h i s t e n ) is
suddenly followed by the weak and unemphatic ' m a n y ' . The description o f the beggar's
behaviour o f course applies equally to that o f the erastes;
the effect o f this last touch is
perhaps to underline his insincerity, o f which much has been made.
e 5 ff.: neat transition to the 'summary' (see analysis). ('Yet rather perhaps . . .': the
perhaps' ( i s a s ) does not indicate any doubt about what followsrather the reverse; isds
is regularly used like this in Greek, as is 'perhaps' by at least some speakers o f English.)
234 a 8 'when you have ceased to be i n the prime o f y o u t h ' : i.e. understanding
(). This is a somewhat harsh ellipse, and it might.be better to accept one of the various
other emendations which have been proposed (e.g. ). The meaning will be the
same in any case. The one thing that is certain is that the reading o f the main MSS () makes no sense.
b 1 'qualities': a r e t e again (see on 2 3 2 d 5 ) .
b 2-5 'bear in mind . . . ' : sc. so what I propose is obviously clear-headed and sensible.
('What (lovers) d o ' : literally their 'practice', e p i t e d e u m a : cf. 233 d 4.)
b ' You will perhaps ask me, t h e n , . . . ' : for the force o f 'then', see analysis.
b 7 - c 2 for my p a r t . . .*: a new use for the time-honoured lawyer's device, of making
one's opponents support one's case. - : for this use o f , see Denniston 380 ff.
c 1-4. 'It is in your interests to have just me; I say this out o f purely disinterested regard
for your welfare.'
c 4-5: said both (a) to the boy, and also (b) to the audience, by way o f a challenge.

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234 c 6-237 b 1: transition to Socrates' first speech.

This passage contains Socrates' first, and distinctly unfavourable, reactions to Lysias'
speech (he will return to the attack in 262 c ff.). H e suggests that Lysias ought to have done
better, and eventually allows himself to be bullied into giving a rival speech o n the same
subject, while repeatedly insisting that he is no expert. The situation thus matches that in the*
first section o f the dialogue, but with positions reversed: just as Phaedrus claimed to be a
'layman' ( i d i d t e s ) i n contrast to Lysias' professionalism, so too does Socrates (236 d 5). But
the difference is that whereas Phaedrus was merely being coy, Socrates really is a layman, so
far as concerns the tricks o f the orator's trade (cf. A p o l o g y 17 a 4 ff.). It will turn out, i n
fact, that this is to his advantage; i f he outdoes Lysias, as he claims to do, it is precisely
because he rejects his standards. But for the moment the game is officially being played by
Lysias', and Phaedrus', rules; Socrates has not yet broken cover.
c 7 ' i n its language': literally ' i n its words' ( o n o m a t a ) .
d 3 'positively beaming with delight translates g a n u s t h a i , a word borrowed from poetry;
de Vries suggests that there is a play on Phaedrus' name, which suggests the adjective
p h a i d r o s , 'bright', 'cheerful', 'beaming'.
d 5 *I joined i n the ecstasy': sunebakcheusa,
joined i n the Bacchic dance', developing
e k p l a g e n a i i n d 1 ( was beside m y s e l f ) , and recalling 228 b 7 s u n k o r u b a n t i o . The
metaphors are not by any means as dead as i n our use o f 'ecstatic' ('he was simply ecstatic
about i t ' ) .
d 6 : is i n apposition to . F o r , ' s e l f ,
'person', used i n periphrastic expressions, especially in poetry, see also 264 a 8.
d 7 'Quite so' ( e i e n ) : a hint o f irritation. Phaedrus knows perfectly well what Socrates is
up to.
e 1 : used absolutely, like the English 'don't*.
e 2 ' i f you're my friend': what Phaedrus actually says is 'by Zeus the god o f friendship',
but the expression is probably about as decayed as e.g. our 'for G o d ' s sake'. The stress is o n
p h i l i o s , and the tone one o f exasperation. (The name 'Zeus' is actually frequently omitted:
cf. L S J s.v. .)
e 3 'weightier (literally 'larger') and more i n number*: Phaedrus repeats this pairing several
times (234 b 4 - 5 , with 'worthier' for 'weightier'; 235 d 6-7, 'better and no fewer'; 236 b 2,
'more and o f greater value'). What he likes about the speech is (a) the quality o f the
individual points made, and (b) their sheer number (and this probably fairly represents
Lysias' own emphasis: see my introductory comments on the speech above). The standards
of 'quality' which Phaedrus has in mind are perhaps those which Socrates mentions i n e 7-8:
ideas must be expressed clearly, and be worked i n a craftsmanlike fashion.
e 7 : is easily understood from e 6 .
('compact, rounded, terse', L S J ) is filled out by . . . : the metaphor
in both cases is from wood-working.
235 a 1 O f i t ' : i.e. o f the speech.
a 2-3.1 have here mainly followed de Vries's interpretation. Another possible rendering o f
the M S text is did not think even Lysias himself thought this good enough', with this*
9

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C O M M E N T A R Y 235a-c

C O M M E N T A R Y 235od

referring to 'the rhetorical aspect'. But what Socrates goes o n to talk about (saying the same
thing in different ways) would surely not naturally be counted as a rhetorical f a i l i n g ; and
Phaedrus* reply in b 1 ff. in fact suggests that only a single criticism has been made: 'that
very thing you mention' (b 1) must refer to 'saying what one s h o u l d ' . H i s retort is that Lysias
has said everything there is to say on the subject that is worth saying. It is better, I think, to
understand Socrates as arguing like this: 'Lysias didn't say all he should; I think, in fact, that
he was at a loss for things to say at a l l , because he kept repeating h i m s e l f . Hence my own
translation (and punctuation in the text), which represents a possible, though difficult, way
of talcing the Greek (with as 'accusative o f respect*, and supplied as subject of
). - The inserted by some editors would give the meaning thought Lysias would
think' (? or, with Hackforth, couldn't think that Lysias would). But on the interpretation
adopted the is unnecessary: thought Lysias was consciously struggling'.
a 3 'and i n f a c t . . . ' : 'not only was he a bit thin, but he kept repeating h i m s e l f . (Denniston
(445) gives only one other example o f the combination , at P r o t a g o r a s 309 b 6; but it
has a sense which is comfortingly close to the one required here. Some editors prefer xai
, as closer to the impossible M S readings.)
a 4 'to have said the same things two or three times over': is this comment really justified?
There is indeed some repetition, but one has to look fairly hard to find it. Either Socrates is
being provocative, or else, perhaps, he is referring to Lysias' tendency to work out both sides
o f every opposition in full ('those in love behave like this . . .; those not in love behave like
t h a t . . . ' ) , where the second is often simply the mirror image o f the first. (Cf. Dimock 395,
and note on 239 c 5 - d 2 below.) Notice how Socrates himself later refuses to balance his
attack on the lover with eulogy o f the non-lover, as Phaedrus wants h i m to do: ' i n a word I
say that the other has the good points which are opposed to all the things for which we've
abused the first* (241 e 5-6)though there is another and more important motive at work
here (see note on 241 e 1-7).
s 6 'showing o f f : e p i d e i k n u m e n o s , an appropriate w o r d , i n the context of an e p i d e i k t i k o s
l o g o s , 'show speech'.
b 1 'the very thing you mention': see note on a 2 - 3 ;
b 2 : two explanations o f the construction are possible. Either
combines both meanings o f , i.e. both 'to be i n ' and 'to be possible', with
infinitive (Ast, de Vries); orfaOfjvatis an epexegetic infinitive (cf. 229 b 2)'the things which
are there in the subject to be expressed', ('in a way worthy o f i t ' : i.e. in such a way as to
exploit its full rhetorical possibilities?)
h 4. The v added by the Aldine edition looks necessary for the sense.
c 2 - d 3. must have heard sometmng from someone, because I find I've got a lot to say
on the subject myselfand it can't have come from me, because I know my own ignorance;
but I've forgotten just where I heard i t . ' If he is wiser than anyone else, Socrates says in the
A p o l o g y , it is because he alone is aware that he knows nothing. The claim o f ignorance is one
of his most characteristic traits, and there is little doubt that in the context o f the historical
Socrates, it is genuine enough: for all his arguments, he feels that certainty still eludes him.
But for Piato, it also has less serious uses. So at R e p u b l i c 336 e-337 a, where Socrates
150

mockingly pretends to give way to Thrasymachus' superior insight: 'the usual Socratic irony
( e i r o n e i a ) , Thrasymachus.replies: 'dissembling as he always does to avoid having to give an
answer h i m s e l f . The present passage develops the idea one step further: have something to
say myself; yet how can that be, given my ignorance? I must have got it from someone else.'
The dissimulation is transparent: as becomes increasingly obvious, the Socrates o f the
P h a e d r u s (as opposed to the real Socrates, who probably wouldn't have bothered to hear
Lysias through i n the first place) is more than a match for Lysias by himself. But see further
on 237 c 2 - 3 .
c 3-4. H o w o n earth could Socrates have heard anything i n praise o f the non-lover from
Sappho or Anacreon, o f all peopletwo o f the best-known love-poets o f antiquity? I find it
impossible to accept Robin's suggestion that he is already looking forward to his
second
speech, which contains his recantation in favour o f the lover: 'better' (c 1) must mean better
on the same theme, not on its opposite; and moreover Plato goes to some lengths to stress the
suddenness o f Socrates' decision to recant (242 b ff.). Dramatically, at least, it is implausible
that he should already be anticipating his change o f tune. But the strongest objection is that
Plato's Socrates normally displays a thoroughgoing hostility towards poets o f all des
criptions. In R e p u b l i c X , for instance, he dismisses them as having no concern for the truth,
and speaking to the lowest elements i n human nature. I f we bear that i n m i n d , it is scarcely
conceivable that he should now even suggest an appeal to their authority for his second, and
more serious, thoughts on love. There is, however, another way o f taking what Socrates is
saying here, and one which makes it consistent both with R e p u b l i c X and with Plato's
general attitude towards poets. Love-poets like Sappho and Anacreon talk about the lover,
not the non-lover, but the love which forms their subject is ordinary, non-philosophical love,
based o n irrational desire for physical beauty and physical satisfaction: the very sort o f love,
in other words, which is described in Socrates' first speech. Just by portraying thatso Plato
will be implyingthe love-poets give us better arguments in favour o f the non-lover than
Lysias could ever muster; for how could anyone willingly have anything to do with someone
in the condition they describe? (But that, o f course, is not the end o f the story: there is also
another way o f loving . . .) The tone o f the expressions 'the excellent (and/or 'lovely',
'beautiful': k a l o s ) Sappho' and 'the wise (sophos)
A n a c r e o n ' is thoroughly ironical: for
another similar use o f sophos
cf. 229 e 6. W . W . Fortenbaugh, C P h 61 (1966), 108-9, finds
echoes o f a particular poem o f Sappho's in Socrates' first speechand also o f Anacreon, i n
his second.
- 'or indeed some prose-writers': a reference to prose-writers naturally follows
that to poets; but there may be more to it than thatwhere else would 'Socrates' get his ideas
from, i f not from a prose-writer (i.e. Plato)? A deliberate wink at the reader?
9

c 5 ' i f I may say s o ' : , acknowledging the poeticism.

c 8 - d 1: a quotation from Democritus has been suspected here (see de Vries); cf. also
Symposium
175 d-e.
d 4-5 ' D o n ' t you tell me from whom you've heard it and h o w ' : 'from w h o m . . . and h o w '
sarcastically mimics Socrates' 'how and from w h o m ' in d 2 - 3 . Phaedrus has no time for his
protestations; i f he has something to say, let him say it. ( ' D o n ' t . . . even i f I press y o u ' : i.e.
'I'm not a s k i n g you t o . . .*?)
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C O M M E N T A R Y 235d-236e

C O M M E N T A R Y 237a-241d

d 6-7 'different things which are better and no fewer in quantity': Socrates can hardly
object to what Phaedrus says here, although his last speech said nothing about quantity, and
shifted from 'better' to 'no worse' (c 6); he began, after a l l , just by disputing Phaedrus'
claim that no one could say more or better.
d 8-e 1 'like the nine archons . . ' : the C o n s t i t u t i o n o f t h e A t h e n i a n s , attributed to
Aristotle, tells us that the archons swore to 'dedicate a golden statue, i f they should
contravene any o f the laws' (VII. 1). They presumably have no expectation o f having to fulfil
their promise; and by going one better than themtwo statues instead o f onePhaedrus
underlines that neither does he. The bet is, he thinks, that Socrates will be unable to deliver,
'equal in weight': Plutarch (see Hackforth a d i o c . ) evidently took this to mean 'life-sized',
which might be supported by 236 b 2-3; but i n the context it is perhaps more natural to
understand 'equal i n weight to the speech you would have to deliver to outdo Lysias' (so also
Holwerda, cited by de Vries).
236 a 1 'these being indispensable points': and indeed they turn out to form the basis of
Socrates' first speech.
a 3 'with such things . . . ' : it is precisely Lysias' 'arrangement' o f what Socrates dismisses
as his commonplaces which will later come in for heaviest criticism (first, by implication, in
Socrates' competing speech, and then explicitly i n 262 d ff.).
b 2-3 []: for some o f the textual issues, see de Vries; but what is meant is
clear enough i n any case. ( A more literal translation, from b 1, would run 'but having said
(things which are) different from the remaining (things), more and worth more than these,
take your stand in hammered m e t a l . . . ' )
b 3-4 ' i n hammered metal': a more expensive mode o f production than simple casting,
'the votive offering o f the Cypselids*: Aristotle mentions the 'dedications of the Cypselids'
as an example o f massive public works, along with the Egyptian pyramids ( P o l i t i c s 1313
b 22). Even after granting Socrates his concession, Phaedrus is happy to raise his stake.
h 7-3 ' o f greater variety': literally 'containing more colours' ( p o i k i l o t e r o n ) ; picking up
Socrates' criticism of Lysias for repeating himself? (But cf. also on 277 c 2-3.)
b 9 'Here, Socrates, I can really get to grips with y o u ' : for the same metaphor, from
wrestling (cf. 228 e), see P h i l e b u s 13 d 7-8. Phaedrus detects a piece o f pure evasion: 'caught
youjust as you caught me' (c 1 ff., referring back to 228 a 5-6,228 c 2).
d 2 ' "grasp the meaning of my w o r d s " ' : Plato uses the same quotation at M e n o 76 d,
where he refers it to Pindar.
d 4 'you lucky fellow': m a k a r i e normally functions as one o f a large number of ordinary
forms o f polite or pleasant address; but I have taken it that its use here is influenced by the
context'you're luckier than me' ( m a k a r i o s in its general sense o f 'fortunate Vblessed').
Socrates really is a layman, at least in Phaedrus' terms (see p . 149 above), and whereas
Phaedrus has had time to practise, he himself will have to speak impromptu.
d 10-e 1 'but by w h o m , by which g o d ? ' : pretended seriousness, undercut by the choice
of the innocent plane. - : sc. .
e S ' s lover of speeches': p h i l o l o g o s , cf. 'the one in love with ( e r a s t e s ) speeches' at 228
c 1 -2 (with note on 228 b 6 ff.).
152

237 a 4-5 shall speak with my head covered . . . ' : in the present context, his 'shame' is at
what Phaedrus will think o f his poor display ('from looking at you'); but later on (242b8 ff.)
he gives it a quite different meaning. There will be other, more important, reasons for him to
be ashamed o f his performance.
a 7 - b 1. Socrates' invocation o f the Muses is modelled on the poets: the most obvious
examples are H o m e r , at the beginning both o f the I l i a d and o f the Odyssey,
and Hesiod in
Theogony
and W o r k s a n d D a y s . - 'clear-voiced': cf. Odyssey
24.62. - 'whether you are
called t h a t . . . ' : a parody o f a form regularly used in prayers (*
, or however we should
address y o u ' : cf. C r a t y l u s 400 e, and, for poetic examples, Aeschylus Agamemnon
149,
Euripides T r o a d e s 884-5). Hackforth suggests that the play o n U g u s / L i g u s ('Ligurian') is
pointless. In itself, it is certainly empty: apart from the present passage, and later inferences
from it, there is no known connection between Ligurians and 'music' (here, as often,
including poetry). But it does have the important function o f indicating the tone o f the
passage: i.e. its essential i r o n y . 'Sheer inspiration', Socrates will later say o f his speech (238
c 5 ff., 241 e 1 ff.), 'bordering on poetry*. L i k e the poets (see I o n ) , he cannot rely on his own
resources (235 c 2 ff.), and must therefore call for inspiration from outside; he pretends that
he doesn't expect it to come (237 a 1 0 - b 1), and when.it begins to do so, he breaks off to
express surprise, to the accompaniment o f a dry comment from Phaedrus on his 'unusual
fluency' (238 c 5-8). Finally, he expresses diffidence about his whole performance (241
e 8-242 a 2). Yet at the same time it just so happens ('by some chance', 262 c 10; cf. also 264
e 7 ff.) that the speech contains important lessons for the true orator. (With 237 a 1 0 - b 1,
then'so that Lysias may seem even wiser to Phaedrus'we should take not one but two
pinches o f salt.) These lessons can hardly be put down to the Muses o f poetrybut for a
different kind o f Muse, see 259 b ff.
a 9 * "take part with m e " *: another deliberate poeticism (with for , and tmesis: . . .
= ).
237 b 2-241 d 1: Socrates' first speech on love.
After outlining the imagined situation, Socrates launches into his own speech in the guise
of non-lover. A short interlude (238 c 5 - d 7) divides the speech into two parts, the first o f
which gives a definition o f love, while the second draws out the consequences o f the
definitionif t h a t is what love is, then everything tells against the lover. The effect o f this
division o f the speech is to direct our attention towards the working out o f the definition,
which will later be said (263 a ff.) to be the necessary starting-point for the proper treatment
of any subject. W e must always begin by stating precisely what it is that we are talking about
(cf. 237 b 7 ff., which makes the same point in relation to practical choices). It should not
come as any surprise to usdespite everything that Socrates has suggested to the c o n t r a r y thai the speech as a whole is carefully and deliberately done: there is o f course really nothing
'accidental* about the merits which will be discovered in it (cf. note on 237 a 7 - b 1). See
further on 238 d 8-241 d 1 below.
Love is defined in this speech in terms o f a simple antithesis between desire and judgement
('an inborn desire for pleasures*, and 'an acquired judgement which aims at the best', 237
153

COMMENTARY* 237b-c

COMMENTARY 23*

d 7-9). 'It seems probable', Hackforth claims, 'that Plato is here using non-technical
language, and that the antithesis . . . is popular rather than philosophical' (41). His
arguments are that in the R e p u b l i c Plato has recognised a third 'ruling principle' in us, in
addition to the two mentioned here (i.e. 'spirit', t h u m o s , apparently corresponding to the
nobler o f the two horses o f the soul in Socrates' second speech): and that the description of
d o x a ('judgement', O p i n i o n ' ) as 'aiming at the best', and even 'leading us by means of
reason towards the best', is at odds with Plato's ' n o r m a l ' use o f the term, in which it
c o n t r a s t s with knowledge and reasoning (Hackforth refers to R e p u b l i c 476-8, Timaeus
51 e).
But neither argument is compelling. It is perfectly possible to suppose that Plato uses a
bipartite rather than a tripartite analysis here because that is all he needs in the context: in
other words, the lover's behaviour, in the sense in which love is presently being taken, can be
quite adequately explained simply in terms o f the opposition between reason and desire.
There will be other contexts where a more complex analysis is required (of which Socrates'
second speech provides a sample); but here a simpler analysis is sufficient. A s for the use of
d o x a , there is no necessary implication in the passage that our 'judgements' will always be of
what is absolutely best. They may be; on the other hand they may even turn out to be
mistaken. But in the context o f the opposition o f judgement to d e s i r e , judgement will always
at least in some weak sense Mead us towards the best', just in so far as it offers resistance to
desire, which itself (as Plato consistently holds, and as he suggests here) inevitably or
'naturally' leads us towards vice and excess. It might well be that the psychological analysis
given in this speech o f Socrates', and its account o f love (love, that is, o f the ordinary,
common or garden kind), would be perfectly intelligible and acceptable to a non-philosophical
audience; but there is also nothing in either which is un-Platonic, in terms of vocabulary or
of content (whether the ideas expressed are consistently S o c r a t i c is another matter: see on
237 d 8-9). Later, at 265 a ff., Socrates clearly suggests that he is as content with what he
says here, about 'left-handed' love, as he is with the substance o f his second speech. (265 a ff.
also brings out what is, at least in retrospect, the main emphasis o f the definition; love at the
ordinary level, too, is a kind o f madness or 'derangement' ( p a r a n o i a ) , because in it desire
has overcome reason, and the lover is no longer his rational self.)
237 b 2-6. A short example o f the simple, unadorned style o f narrative (cf. also 274c 5 ff.).
For the likely significance o f the change o f perspective (the lover is now only p r e t e n d i n g not
to be in love), su*.
230 e o.
b 'Once upon a time': is regularly used, like the English expression, to mark tne
beginning o f a story. For the origin o f the use, see especially Fraenkel on Aeschylus
Agamemnon
718.
b 2 'a boy, or rather a young l a d ' : see p. 143 above.
b 4 : as often, in a causal sense, like Latin ( q u i p p e ) q u i .
b 5 : 'conative* imperfect.
c 2 'miss (everything)': h a m a r t a n e i n in the sense o f 'missing the mark'.
c 2-3 'most people are unaware that they do not k n o w ' : unlike Socrates (235 c 6-8, with
note on 235 c 2 - d 3). If in the present context he gives the impression of knowing precisely
what he is talking about, that impression will soon be dispelled; the definition of love which
154

he is about to offer turns out to be false, or at least incomplete. A t 265 b - c , he expres. *.

uncertainty even about the new account o f love which he gives in his second speech. T o this
extent, Socrates' claim o f ignorance is after all to be taken seriously. While he may be able to
do better than Lysias, he does not pretend to have all the answers himself. This aspect o f him
is o f some importance for later developments in the dialogue: see Introduction.
c 6-7 'the question before you and me i s ' : l o g o s again ('what you and I have to talk about
is').
c 7-8 'enter into friendship': for p h i l i a , as the natural term for the relationship between
'boy' and lover, see 255 e 1-2 (and note on 230 e 6).
c 8 - d 3 'let us establish an agreed definition of love . . . and look to this as our point of
reference . . . ' : as Lysias signally failed to do (cf. 263 d ff.). Socrates himself follows his
proposed method precisely: see introductory comments above.
c 8 - d 1 'what power it possesses*: i.e. what effects it has the power to cause.
d 4-5 'men desire the beautiful even i f they are not i n love': 'the beautiful' translates t o n
k a l b n (plural), which is ambiguous between masculine and neuter. Socrates may mean 'even
non-lovers desire beautiful young men' (cf. the situation o f the speaker in Lysias' speech), or
else he means 'even non-lovers desire beautiful t h i n g s , i.e. anything which is beautiful
(including, but not restricted to, young men). Plato frequently suggests a close connection, i f
not an actual identity, between the classes o f beautiful things and o f g o o d things, i.e. good
for us (cf. e.g. Symposium
201 c 2, with Dover's note); and he tends to treat it as a simple
fact about human beings that all desire the good (e.g. R e p u b l i c 505 d 11).
d 6 'two kinds of thing': 'kinds o f thing' translates i d e a , one o f two closely related words
which Plato often uses (but not here) as semi-technical terms for '(Platonic) F o r m s ' . The
other member o f the pair, e i d o s , also appears in the same sort o f use as i d e a here: cf. 253 c 8,
265 c 9, ande s p e c i a l l y R e p u b l i c 435 c 1 ff., o f the 'parts' o f the soul. In such contexts the
use o f i d e a and eidos often allows Plato to talk about the features o f particular collections o f
items without having to specify precisely what they are collections of. But the two words also
function in a slightly more definite (though equally non-technical) way: see 238 a 3, with
note.
d 8-9 'an acquired judgement which aims at the best': no one knowingly chooses what is
bad for him (cf. e.g. M e n o 1 1 c ff., and note on d 4-5 above); but choice is a matter o f
judgement, and that is something which we have to acquire through learning (cf. L a w s 653
a ff.). A l l o f this is genuinely Socratic, or consistent with Socratic thinking. But the
following suggestion, that the desire for pleasure can overcome our understanding o f what is
best, is essentially non-Socratic in its implications. Socrates seems rb have denied the
possibility o f a k r a s i a , or 'weakness o f w i l l ' ; that is, o f our doing something despite knowing
it to be wrong. If we go wrong, it is because o f ignorance of what is really best for us ('virtue
is knowledge', and 'no man does wrong willingly'). T o be sure, it is not knowledge as such
which is said here to be capable o f being overcome by desire; on the other hand, the very idea
of desire or appetite as being a motivating force i n itself, leading to vice and excess (238
a 1 ff.), probably runs counter to the general implications o f the Socratic thesis. The idea
seems to be fundamentally Platonic in origin: it is first clearly introduced i n the R e p u b l i c
9

155

C O M M E N T A R Y 237e-238b

C O M M E N T A R Y 238b-d

(Book IV onwards), where it entails a radical modification o f Socrates' position (virtue now
depends not only on knowledge, but also, and more importantly, on the state of our
appetites: see further Irwin, ch. V I I ) .
237 e 2-238 a 2. Note the contrast: judgement 'leads' us, by means o f rational persuasion;
desire 'drags' us by force, -'restraint': this is clearly the primary sense o f s b p h r o s u n e here
(contrasting with h u b r i s , 'excess'), but the other meaning o f the term, 'good sense', 'sanity*,
is not far away: cf. 231 d 3 (the non-lover s b p h r o n e i , 'is in his right mind*, as opposed to the
'sickness*, n o s e i n , o f the lover), 235 e 7 - 2 3 6 a 1 (the lover is a p h r b n , lacks sense, in con'-^st
to the sensible, p h r o n i m o s , non-lover), and 241 a 3.
238 a 2 'excess': h u b r i s , h u b r i s is a slippery term, with both general and relatively specific,
legalistic, meanings (for the latter, see e.g. Fisher). But at the core is probably the idea of
excessive behaviour, behaviour which in some way 'goes too far', and that is clearly what is
in question here.
a 3 'it has many limbs and many forms': as the apparatus indicates, there is wide disagree
ment between both M S S and editors about what Plato originally wrote here; but the meaning
is scarcely affected. (In my own choice of reading I chiefly follow de Vries; see his note for a
reasoned justification.) The prosaic 'forms' explains the metaphorical 'limbs' (cf. 230 a 3-6,
with note). The Greek literally says 'it is something many-formed', p o l u e i d e s ; the second
half of the compound adjective is from e i d o s , here ' f o r m ' i n the sense o f sub-type or species.
This is the second non-technical use o f eidos referred to i n the note on 237 d 6 above (non
technical, that is, in contrast to its specialised use for that peculiar kind o f Platonic entity,
the Form), and it is immediately picked up by an identical use o f i d e a ('whichever of these
forms*).
a 4-5 : literally 'it causes the
man who has it to be named with its own name', . . . is an internal or cognate
accusative (cf. English ' T o m called Dick a name'), retained after a passive form; similarly in
b 4-5 () . . . .
.b 2 'tyranny*: in Plato's view the least acceptable o f all types o f constitution ( R e p u b l i c
V I I 1 - I X , P o l i t i c u s ) . C f . dunasteub
in b 5, inadequately translated as 'be in power*: a
d u n a s t e i a is another particular type o f political regime, a hereditary oligarchy in which, as
Aristotle puts it, 'it is not the law which rules, but the rulers' ( P o l i t i c s 1292 b 4-10).
According to Plato's argument at P o l i t i c u s 302 b ff., an oligarchy o f this type will be the
second worst kind o f constitution to live under. Laws stand on the side o f reason; just so it is
reason which must control our desires, not some particular desire which happens to gain the
ascendancy.
b 3-5 . . . : it seems simplest to take . . . as 'accusative
of respect* (or as 'absolute', de Vries), and to supply with the genitive del
'as for the other names related to these . . ., it is already clear that (a man) will be
called (, future) bv (the name) o f the (desire) which is in power (over him) at any
time ('distributive* ), in the way in which () it is appropriate*.
b 5-7 ' A s for the desire for the sake o f which ( . . . , sc. ) all the
foregoing has been said, it is already pretty evident (what one should say); but everything is
156

perhaps () clearer when said than when unsaid.' The alternative reading in b 7, for
, would give the sense 'but it will be altogether clearer i f said than i f unsaid'. Either
sense is quite possible. Whichever choice we make, the tone* is, I think, ironic. Socrates
pretends that the statement o f the definition o f love is now a mere formality. But when we
come to it, we find that there is actually rather more in it than could possibly be read o f f
from 'the foregoing': most obviously, the etymological explanation o f the term
eros
(perhaps also the specific restriction o f the sphere o f love to the pursuit o f ' b o d i l y beauty',
though this is to some extent prepared for by its association with other physical desires). The
etymology is obviously unserious (cf. 252 b, which suggests the even more fanciful
connection o f eros with p t e r o n , 'wing'). What began as a piece o f careful analytical
argument thus climaxes in a playful flourish (compare the end o f Lysias' speech). But there is
nothing playful about the method by which the definition has been arrived at (cf. 265 c ff.),
or about the real substance o f the definitionas a definition, that is, o f one kind o f love.
b 7 - c 4. F o r the form o f the definition, compare e.g. the final definition o f the sophist at
Sophist
268 c - d ; for its tone, see preceding note. (Is there an element o f self-mimicry here on
Plato's part?)
c 2-3 'which is . reinforced': the victory by love over reason entails the suppression o f
reason; its victory over the other physical desires (hence 'related') means their enlistment on
its side.
c 4 : another gnomic aorist.
c 6 'more than human': literally 'divine'. What has happened to h i m , Socrates claims, is
miraculous, something over which he has no control (see on 237 a 7 - b 1).
c 7-8. Hardly the most enthusiastic responseas Socrates immediately notices: 'then hear
me in silence', i.e. i f you can't think o f anything better to say, then keep quiet.
c 9 - d 2 ' F o r the spot seems really to be a divine one, so that i f perhaps I become possessed
by nymphs . . . ' : cf. 230 b 7-8 'the spot seems to be sacred to some Nymphs and Achelous'.
Aristotle uses n u m p h o t e p t o s , 'possessed by nymphs', as a general term fur tne madness o f
possession, alongside t h e o l e p t o s , 'possessed by gods* ( E u d e m i a n E t h i c s 1214 a 23). -
, ' i f perhaps*: a favourite expression o f Plato's (references in de Vries).
d 2-3 ' I ' m already close to uttering dithyrambs': the dithyramb is a (sung) poetic form,
about which we unfortunately know very little (see A . Pickard-Cambridge, D i t h y r a m b ,
T r a g e d y a n d Comedy,
2nd edn., Oxford 1962). Plato evidently did not think much o f it in its
current state: at H i p p i a s M a j o r 292 c i f the work is genuinely Platonic, which has
sometimes been doubtedhe has Socrates dismiss an answer o f Hippias' as 'so long (?) a
dithyramb, unmusically done, and a long way out o f tune with the question', where
'dithyramb' may function as a pejorative term in its own right, though presumably the other
parts o f the description also relate to Plato's view of dithyrambic composers and performers;
and at C r a t y l u s 409 c 'dithyrambic* is used to describe a new word elaborately invented for
the occasion. The common idea in these two passages might be that o f artificial contrivance
(Contrived* is certainly a term which fits the speech o f Hippias in question in the first), and a
decent guess would be that Socrates' comment here in the Phaedrus'my
inspiration has
almost reached the heights o f the dithyramb*refers to the etymological fancy in the
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C O M M E N T A R Y 238d-e

C O M M E N T A R Y 239a-e

definition, perhaps particularly to its jarring introduction ('forcefully reinforced', endmenos r h o s t h e i s a ) : cf. 241 e 1, on the outbreak o f epic style in the last line o f the second half
of the speech; and Aristotle, R h e t o r i c 1408 b 10 ff.
d 5 ' F o r that you're responsible': Phaedrus is responsible for what has 'happened to'
Socrates in the sense that the whole situation is o f his making (if he hadn't had Lysias' speech
with him . . . ) .
d 6 'perhaps the threat may be averted': he has already narrowly escaped uttering
dithyrambs; who knows what might happen i f he were really possessed?
d 6 ' g o d ' : not G o d , nor any particular god, but just some (unspecified) godor indeed
gods; theos in Greek regularly functions as a form o f collective noun.
238 d 8-241 d 1. There is no difficulty in identifying the structure o f this second and main
part o f Socrates' speech: we have the effect o f the lover (1) on the boy's mind (238 e 2-239
c 2), (2) on his physical condition (239 c 3 - d 7), (3) on his 'possessions' in a wide sense,
including his relationships with family and friends (239 d 8 - 2 4 0 a 8); (4) the unpleasantness
involved in associating with an older man (240 a 9 - e 7); (5) what will happen when the lover
ceases to be in love (240 e 8-241 c 1); leading to (6) a final summing-up (241 c 1 - d 1). Only
the fourth section contains anything fundamentally new; the piece works mainly by
rearranging the substantial points in Lysias' speech, and omitting the more artificial
elements. This is just what we were warned to expect by 235 e 2 ff.: given that there are
certain things which have to be included in any case, Socrates said there, what matters is not
the invention o f them, but how they are arranged. The connecting thread is 'the advantage or
harm* which will come to the boy (238 e 1-2), which is consistently worked out on the basis
of the given definition (cf. 238 d 8-9): i f the lover is driven irresistibly by the desire for (his
own) pleasure, what are the consequences for the boy? Note especially the repeated use of
'necessarily' ( a n a n k e ) in the first section. But the speech as a whole is of course more than
just an exercise in logical method: it is itself an example o f rhetorical writing'well-turned',
but also properly controlled, and so expressing t a d e o n t a , 'what ought to be said' about the
subject, with real clarity (cf. 234 e 5-8). It is intended, in other words, as a model of a
reformed type o f rhetoric, one in which artifice is used in the service of content rather than
(as sometimes in Lysias' case) dictating it. Artifice there certainly is (e.g. the string of pairs
of opposing terms in 239 a 2-4; the simple piling up o f adjectives at 240 a 6 and 241 c 2-3,
chiasmus at 239 c 7 - d 1, 240 a 5, 240 b 1-2; anaphora at 241 c 3-4), but it is for the most
part restrained and unobtrusive.
238 e 3 'ruled by desire and enslaved to pleasure': the Greek gives a further example of
chiasmic order, though less striking than the others ( a b / b a : 'by desire ruled/(and) enslaved
to pleasure*. The second idea gives precision to the first: the desire for pleasure rules over the
lover like master over slave, and is not to be resisted (cf. 239 c 5 'is under compulsion', 240
c 7 - d 1 'driven by frenzied compulsion'). A minor example o f the integration of style and
content: see preceding note. ('. . . necessarily . . ., I suppose': the qualification ()
functions like 'perhaps' () in 233 e 5. If pleasure is the lover's only aim, there is no
suppose' about it.)

158

239 a 1 , : masculine accusatives, as i f had been written in place o f

.
a 5 - 7 and belong with . . .; the displacement allows (a) the
juxtaposition o f and , and (b) identity o f form between the clauses
introduced by and . Some editors have doubted on the grounds that is
normally used with a dative o f the thing enjoyed, but I have hesitantly taken it as standing
for a genitive absolute: () , 'he will be delighted w h e n / i f these are
present'. F o r other defences, see de Vries.
b 3-4 'and the greatest harm he will cause will be by keeping him from that association
from which (understanding ( ) (), a
particularly savage ellipse) his wisdom would be most increased' (lit. 'he would become most
p h r o n i m o s * the opposite o f the lover's state: cf. note on 237 e 2-238 a 2), i.e. philosophy:
contrast the ideal lovers o f Socrates' second speech, who will be 'drawn by the better
elements o f the mind to a well-ordered life, and to philosophy* (256 a 7-8). (De Vries claims
that here in the first speech p h i l o s o p h i a is not used primarily in its Platonic sense, but 'as the
term was generally used in the fourth century B . C . * , i.e. as including any serious intellectual
pursuit; while 'divine''that divine thing, philosophy*is no more than a 'conventional
laudatory adjective*. This may be right, to the extent that Socrates is still officially playing
the part o f a 'lover o f speeches* o f the Phaedran typethough in the one passage which ue
Vries adduces for the use by Plato o f p h i l o s o p h i a i n this sense, Symposium
183 a, editors
have generally suspected the word as an intrusion. O n the other hand neither Phaedrus nor
any fourth-century reader would be in much doubt about the kind o f intellectual pursuit
which interested Socrates, namely philosophy in the narrow sense. De Vries surely
understates the case when he adds that 'the Platonic overtones are not entirely absent'.)
9

b 5 O u t of a dread of being despised': because i f the boy once tasted philosophy, he would
recognise the lover's a p h r o s u n e , lack o f sense, irrationality, folly. C f . also P h i l e b u s 63 e, on
the good life: 'it is surely the height o f irrationality ( a l o g i a ) to mix with thought those
pleasures which follow with lack o f intelligence ( a p h r o s u n e ) and the rest o f vice*.
c 5 - d 2. Dimock, 394-5, rightly draws attention to the varied style o f this passage (each of
four oppositions expressed in a different way), comparing it with the climax to Lysias'
speech at 233 e 5 ff. (six oppositions, each introduced by the same formula, 'not these . . . .
but those . . . ' ) ' N o doubt the comparison is one which Plato intends us to make; hence also
the elaborate p r a e t e r i t i o in d 2-4 (with d 8)why spin out what is obvious in any case? C f .
note on 235 a 2 - 3 .
d 3-4 'which are obvious and are not worth listing further, but will allow us to go on . . . ' :
literally 'which are obvious and it is not worth going on further (sc. in listing), but (we
should) lay down one summary point and pass on to something else*. A modal idea (of one
kind or another: de Vries suggests 'it is sufficient') is easily supplied with ... tivai
from in d 3.
e 3 'and especially to the lover': i.e. because any other course o f action would be
inconsistent with his condition. Once again the logical nature o f the argument is underlined
(cf. 240 a 4 pasa a n a n k e , 'every necessity*).
159

C O M M E N T A R Y 2403-24 l b

C O M M E N T A R Y 241b-e

240 a 9 - b 1 'some divine agency mixes a pleasure': this amounts roughly to saying 'there
happens, strangely enough, to be some pleasure mixed with them*. It is natural for a Greek
to refer strange, unexpected (or uncontrollable) features o f the world to supernatural causes,
but by the fourth century, in contexts like this, it is little more than a habit o f speech. Hence
the fact that Socrates can say in the same breath that the pleasure is mixed in by 'nature'
(b 2): 'it is a strange fact o f nature that . . . ' (Contrast 238 c 5-6, 238 d 6-7, and especially
242 b 8 ff., where the idea o f divine causation forms an essential part o f the meaning as
such.)
b 2 'a source of great harm': because he gives praise even when it is not due (for a similar
idea applied to the lover, see 233 a 4 ff.).
b 2-3 'a certain pleasure which is not altogether gross': hedonen
t i n a o u k a m o u s o n . The
delightful things said by the flatterer or parasite are, as we would say, 'music to the ears' of
the recipient.
b 5 : an Ionic and poetic dative form, quite frequent in Plato, but particularly
appropriate here, as de Vries points out, given the general floweriness o f the context (cf. also
276 b 4, 278 b 1).
b 6 : Greek regularly forms abstract nouns by combining the neuter of the
definite article with adjectives.
c 1 ' A s the proverb goes . . . ' : literally 'the old saying too (sc. , 'says') that con
temporary ( h e l i x , 'someone o f the same age') delights contemporary'.
c 2 'matching for 'equal', ) pleasures': including the idea o f mutuality.
d 1 'by frenzied compulsion': literally 'by compulsion (or 'necessity', a n a n k e ) and stinging
passion* ( o i s t r o s , originally 'gadfly', but then o f any state o f uncontrollable feeling).
d 3 : 'closely' (de Vries).
d 6 ff 'as he sees . . . when he is guarded .
when he hears . . .*: in the Greek, three
participles, mirroringbut not too closely'as he sees, hears, touches' in d 2. (also
participles, and in the same case, in the Greek).
d 7 'everything else that follows on that*: i.e. the other physical aspects o f what is a purely
physical relationship.
e 1-2 'let alone to be continually compelled . . . ' : literally 'let alone (sc. pleasant) when
compulsion is always on one as well () to deal with them in practice'.
e 2-3 . . . . . .: resuming the construction in d 6-7 (,
agreeing with i n d 4), which was interrupted by the genitive absolute in d 7
( ).
241 a 3 'sanity': s o p h r o s u n e again (cf. note on 237 e 2 - 2 3 8 a 2), followed by the verb
s o p h r o n e i n , in the same sense, in b 1.
b 1 : deliberative subjunctive ('how he is to make good . . . he does not know').
b 4 'compelled to default': 'defaulting by necessity ( a n a n k e ) . H o w else could the lover
behave, i f his desire, which was the whole basis o f the relationship, has gone? - 'the flip of
the sherd': like our flip o f the coin. According to ancient authority (see de Vries), the precise
reference is to a children's game o f tag, in which the fall o f a potsherd, or shell, whether
black or white side up, determined which side played ' i t ' .
9

160

b 5 'the other is compelled ( a n a n k a z e l a i ) : there is a necessity about the boy's behaviour

too; i f his lover runs away and refuses to make proper return, he has no alternative but to
run after h i m .
c 1-2 et , . . . : the optative confirms what is clear in any case, that this
is a continuation o f the -clause begun in b 6 (the secondary main verb expected with
and optative is impled in . . . : 'he failed to recognise from the beginning*).
c 5 ' i n the eyes either of men or of gods': this looks like a typical Greek 'polar' expression,
used as an emphatic device; cf. e.g. Xenophanes fr. 23, with M . Stokes, O n e a n d M a n y i n
G r e e k P h i l o s o p h y (Washington, D . C . , 1971) 76. The gods, according to Socrates and Plato
(see especially the description o f Socrates' 'divine mission' in the A p o l o g y ) certainly do
regard moral educationif that is what is meant hereas more valuable for us than
anything else; but whether Plato, or anyone else, would seriously maintain that men do is
entirely another matter. It is Plato's normal complaint, indeed, just that they don't. (To
translate 'valuable t o (for) gods and men' gives even less literal sense: the traditional Greek
gods are either already moral beings o f a sort, or beyond morality, while Plato's stand for
perfection.)
c 6-7 , , , . . . . . . : echoing Lysias' formula
at a similar stage in his speech, , . . . (234
b 1-2).
c 8 'filling u p ' : plesmone,
the same term that Lysias used at 233 e 2.
d 1 'as wolves love ( a g a p a n ) lambs, so is lovers' ( e r a s t a i , e r a n ) affection ( p h i l e i n ) for a
boy': in the Greek, this is almost, but not quite, a full hexameter line, and since at e 1
Socrates says ' I ' m already uttering epic verses', it is tempting to make the minor changes
needed to the text to give him at least one (' for and ' for , both i n the
first half). So de Vries, and most editors. But there might perhaps be more subtlety i n the
received text. Socrates as it were visibly grows i n 'inspiration* (cf. 237 a 7 - b 1), building up
from a stuttering 'like food, for the purpose o f filling u p ' , and a halting 'as wolves love
lambs', to the final, and full-blown, poetic flourish .'so is lovers* affection for a b o y ' . - F o r
the juxtaposition o f p h i l e i n / p h i l o s and e r a n / e r a s t e s , see on 233 c 7; a g a p a n is here merely a
variant for p h i l e i n , both standing for love in general, as opposed to specifically sexual love.
241 d 2-243 e 8: transition to Socrates' second speech.
Having outplayed Lysias, Socrates prepares to leave. But he is then held back, both by his
'divine sign', and by his own realisation that he has slandered Love. H e proposes to recant.
241 d 2 'it's as I said it would be': i.e. an amateurish effort (cf. especially 236 d 4-5).
d 3 : 'ethic' dative.
e 1-7 'Haven't you noticed that I ' m already uttering epic v e r s e s . . . ? ' : Socrates has passed
beyond the lowly dithyramb to the heights o f epic inspiration'even though I ' m playing the
critic': the traditional function o f the epic Muse is to sing the 'glories o f men',
(cf. Homer, Odyssey
8. 73, I l i a d 9. 189, Hesiod, Theogony
99-101). - ' D o you know that
patently be possessed by the Nymphs . . . ? ' : cf. 238 c 9 - d 2 and d 6, with notes. H o w
much Socrates in fact has to say for the non-lover is indicated by e 5-7: the 'good things'
about him are limited to his not being in the deplorable state o f the lover (as so far depicted).
161

C O M M E N T A R Y 241e-242a

C O M M E N T A R Y 242a-b

'Why then make a long speech o f i t ? ' Lysias' speech showed no such concern for economy
(cf. note on 235 a 4).
Despite appearances, the Nymphs o f the place have exercised no real hold over Socrates
(see on the first section o f the dialogue): he has spoken in competition with Lysias, as he
promised, but according to his own rules rather than those implied by the model Phaedrus so
much admires. But his refusal to go on to eulogise the non-lover also has a second important
effect, in that it leaves him having spoken only to that part o f Lysias' thesis which he actually
endorses: the undesirability o f the (ordinary) lover and his condition. H e will soon give a new
account o f the (true) lover, which will lead him to reject the original thesis outright. But the
essential seriousness o f this first speech (another part o f the contrast with' Lysias) is
confirmed by the fact that in the latter part o f the dialogue it is treated together with the
secondthe 'palinode*as a model o f method (264 e ff.). It thus works simultaneously in
two ways. O n the one hand, it meets Lysias on his own level (non-lover is to be preferred
though Socrates noticeably refrains from underlining that conclusion here); on the other,
it is a positive first step towards a proper treatment o f love and madness. (See also note on
238 d 8-241 d 1.)
241 e 8-242 a 2 'my story will fare just as it should . . ' : i.e., being a poor specimen
('before you force me into something worse*), it will be quickly forgotten. Socrates reverts to
the pose o f incompetent speaker (cf. 237 a 4 ff., with notes). ('Story' is m u t h o s : see 237 a 9
with b 2-6, and note on 229 c 4.) - (242 a 2): literally 'greater' ('before you drive me to
greater lengths', Hackforth), but as de Vries says, it derives an 'unfavourable sense' from its
combination with what one is forced into is normally undesirable.
242 a 4 - 5 . M a n y editors treat the words as an extraneous gloss (see
on 229 d 1-2). It does look on the face o f it rather like a piece o f unmotivated and pedantic
etymologising (/), which jars with the general characterisation of Phaedrus.
But we need to remind ourselves that our knowledge o f Greek in any period for which we
have to rely on literary texts is necessarily limited; and it is quite possible that there was such
a phrase as in use in the fourth century. What it would have meant is
unclear: L S J , s.v. , suggests ' h i g h noon, when the sun as it were stands s t i l l in the
meridian', over which my own guess, incorporated in the translation, has the advantage
probably doubtful, under the circumstancesonly that it ties in more closely with the
context. (In any case we must presumably treat as a transferred epithet.) If we have
no other evidence for the existence o f the phrase at that period, neither have weso 1
believefor any later period at which a glossator might have been at work, although
elsewhere I assume the activity o f at least one such individual: see 236 b 2 - 3 , and 257 d 9-e 1
with note.
a 6 'discuss what's been said': 'discuss' translates d i a l e g e s t h a i , the regular word for
'conversation', the kind o f l o g o i which really interests Socrates (see pp. 135 and 138 above).
Phaedrus is familiar with his ways (cf. 238 c 7-8), and knows just how to keep him. But,
paradoxically, what immediately follows is an even longer speech ( l o g o s in Phaedrus*
favoured sense). Before he takes up Phaedrus* suggestion, Socrates has some more urgent
business in hand: to set the record straight about love.
162

a 7 - b 5. Socrates made Phaedrus to blame for his first speech (238 d 5); now he blames
him for his second as well. The immediate cause, as we soon discover (b 8 ff.), is something
else: the supernatural voice which habitually comes to h i m , and on this occasion forbids him
to leave before he has 'made expiation* for his first speech. But i f Phaedrus hadn't bullied
him into giving that one, he wouldn't now be i n the position o f having to recant in another.
T o forestall any objection from Phaedrusafter all, what he has just suggested (a 6) is not a
speech, but something elsehe indulges in a little flattery: when it comes to speeches,
Phaedrus is one o f the two most creative people he knowswhich is something that
Phaedrus, but not Socrates, is likely to regard as a high compliment, though it is also quite in
line with Plato's portrait o f the man (see especially 228 a 5 ff.; cf. also Symposium
176 e
4 ff.: the initial suggestion that the symposiasts should indulge in l o g o i rather than the flutegirl comes from Eryximachus, but the idea o f the form these l o g o i should takespeeches in
praise o f Lovehe derives from Phaedrus). Such, however, is Phaedrus' passion for
speeches that the mere promise o f another proves sufficient to divert his attention (b 6-7).
Later o n , at 262 c 5-7, Socrates does refer to both speeches as his own ('the ones I made*).
But he then immediately attributes both to 'the gods o f the place', or the cicadas (cf. 259
b ff.). Responsibility for the first speech on its own is even more widely spread: Socrates
implicitly or explicitly attributes it to the Muses (237 a 7 ff.), the place itself (238 c 9 ff.),
Lysias (257 b 2), Nymphs and Pan (263 d 5-6), as well as to Phaedrus. There is o f course a
reason why he should want to shift the blame for the f u s t speech (namely that he is ashamed
of it, as a slander on Love). But there is also a reason why no long, set speecheven one
which contains his second and considered thoughtscan 'really' be his: just that he is no
speaker. This argument he gave first at 235 c 2 - d 3 (see note), and is then repeated at 262
d 2-6; blame the local deities or the cicadas; because I don't think / share in any science o f
speaking'. B y this means Plato is able to eat his cake and have it: he can both have Socrates
illustrating the ideal art o f speech-making, and at the same time maintain the (transparent)
fiction that conversation, rather than the making o f speeches, is his proper medium, and his
true forte (and should be, as the last part o f the dialogue tells us, for anyone who like
Socrates follows the path o f truth and philosophy). See further on 262 c 1 0 - d 6.
I say 'fiction*: historically speaking, o f course, it is not a fiction at all. The evidence that
the real Socrates preferred the medium o f conversation (or, specifically, of question and
answer) is overwhelming. But the Platonic Socrates isas the P h a e d r u s confirmsas much
at home with the long speech as he is with the conversational method. In the early dialogues,
the question and answer form predominates; in the middle and late dialogues both methods
are combined. The difference is that in the P h a e d r u s Plato deliberately and consistently
draws our attention to the fact that in putting set speeches into Socrates' mouth he is making
him behave in an alien fashion, as a preliminary to, and part o f his means towards, an
explicit and extended comparison between the merits o f the two methods in question as
educational toolsor rather, between conversational method or dialectic, on the one hand,
and speech-making and writing on the other (the link between the two latter being
established, from the beginning, by the juxtaposition o f Socrates' two speeches with Lysias*
written composition: but see also 277 e 5 ff.). The bare bones o f the main argument o f the
163

C O M M E N T A R Y 242b

C O M M E N T A R Y 242b-c

P h a e d r u s thus begin to emerge (see Introduction): i f a speech is to be made or a work written

for presentation to an audience, then there are rules to be followed, rules which are
illustrated by the speeches Socrates is 'inspired* or 'forced' (by Plato?cf. also note on 235
c 3-4) to give. But it will still be o f only limited usefulness; far more valuable will be a
different kind o f l o g o i , those which issue from 'dialectic', 'the art o f conversation' (see
especially 276 e 4 ff.).
b 3 'Simmias the Theban': Simmias, one o f Socrates' two questioners in the P h a e d o , is
characterised there as particularly persistent about getting to the bottom o f the matter in
hand (85 c - d ; there is a nice connection, too, with the presentsituation in thp P h a e d r u s at
63 c 8-9, where Simmias asks Socrates 'do you intend to go o f f [i.e. die] keeping this thought
to yourself?*). A reference to the Phaedo
here would not be out o f place, since the
Phaedo's
main theme is the immortality o f the soul, which is shortly to form the starting-point of
Socrates' second speech on love. Just so the reference to Phaedrus 'making speeches himself
might be intended to remind us o f the Symposium,
Plato's other main treatment of love. (On
the other hand, as Hackforth says, 'it may well be that i n Socratic and Platonic circles the
p h i l o l o g i a o f Simmias was proverbial'.)
b 4-5 . . . : a difficult and unusual construction (though de
Vries finds a parallel at C r a t y l u s 416 c 1). is normally used with dative of the person
affected (so here ), but genitive o f the thing caused, or else accusative + infinitive (with or
without the genitive o f the definite articlethis second construction thus appearing as an
instance o f the first).
b 8 - d 2. F o r Socrates' description o f his 'divine sign', cf. A p o l o g y 31 c - d . The language
used to describe it in both passages is very similar; the parenthesis i n c 1 is virtually a
quotation from A p o l o g y 31 d 3-4 (and has sometimes, unnecessarily, been regarded as a
later interpolation from that source). What has changed, however, is that whereas in the
A p o l o g y the experience is reported as a plain biographical fact, here is it used essentially as a
literary device, a kind of deus ex m a c h i n a to explain the sudden reversal in the plot. Plato
again uses a familiar aspect o f the real Socrates for his own purposes: we know perfectly
well, and he knows that we know, that Socrates could not let things stand where they are
after the first speech. Socrates himself admits to having 'felt a certain unease' about what he
was saying even while he was speaking (c 7 ff.). The motif o f the divine sign provides a
convenient and dramatically appropriate explanation o f his sudden (apparent) about-turn.
But it is also more than that: both because o f the fact o f the divine intervention itself (if we
take that at face value, in terms o f the action o f the dialogue), and because of the pro
minence which Socrates is made to give to such experiences in his defence in the A p o l o g y , it
marks a movement in the dialogue as a whole to a higher, more serious, and in a sense more
Socratic levelif the first speech was 'forced* on h i m , the second, despite his later pro
testations, comes from within himself. True, he has just claimed that Phaedrus is forcing
him into the second speech too: but that applies not so muph to the c o n t e n t of what he is
about to say as to its f o r m . Were it not for Phaedrus, he would not be in the position of
having to give a speech at a l l . If he is not committed to its content, at least in broad terms,
then it will hardly count as proper 'expiation' (c 3). But in retrospect, he will also accept the
164

burden o f the first speech, when taken in combination with the second (see note on 241
e 1-7).
Hackforth points to what he sees as another difference between the treatments o f the sign
in P h a e d r u s and A p o l o g y . In the A p o l o g y Socrates specifically says that it only ever holds
him back from what he is about to do, and never prompts him into positive action (31 d 4),
whereas i n the P h a e d r u s 'it is only formally inhibitory: it forbids him to depart without'
making an atonement, but in effect it commands him to make one' (54). But the issues are
less straightforward than this suggests. W i t h characteristic oracular reserve, the divine voice
in the P h a e d r u s says neither how Socrates is to make expiation, nor precisely what his error
was; he has to answer both questions for himself (compare the story at A p o l o g y 20 e tr. o i
Chaerephon's inquiry to the Delphic oracle, and Socrates' reaction to its reply). A g a i n , the
situation is different from the one envisaged in the A p o l o g y : there, the sign prevents him
from making mistakes; here, the mistake is already committedagainst the divine, and
divine response to offence is traditionally swift. The real key to the P h a e d r u s nontext seems
to lie just i n this interweaving o f themes, traditional and Socratic, which allows Plato to
portray Socrates as simultaneously obeying divine admonition and the promptings o f his
own conscience. In the context in the A p o l o g y , the chief point is perhaps to emphasise
Socrates' acceptance o f responsibility for the conduct o f his life: despite divine intervention,
his choices are his o w n , and he will answer for them. If this is right, then there is a basic
similarity between the implications o f the two passages. But the P h a e d r u s develops those
implications in a different and more complex way, which accords with the demands o f a
subtly contrived dramatic situation.
b 9 : 'has explanatory force' (Verdenius, 275).
c 1 'on each occasion': the same 'distributive' use o f as at 238 b 5. ('you under
stand'): with de Vries, I take this to be the type o f use o f 'where the writer is content
with merely adding one idea to another, without stressing the logical connexion between the
two, which he leaves to be supplied' (Denniston, 169).
c 3-4 ' W e l l , I am a seer': the seer or diviner ( m a n t b ) possesses, or claims to possess, an
insight into things which are obscure to ordinary menin relation not only to the future (244
c 1) but to the past and present (so also in the literary tradition: cf. e.g. Calchas in I l i a d I,
Teiresias in the O e d i p u s T y r a n n u s ) . But one can also be said to 'divine' something ( m a n t e u e s t h a i ) in the metaphorical and quite secular sense o f having a foreboding or intuition about
it (so at 278 e 10). It is to this second idea that Socrates shifts in c 6 ff.: he 'divined' that
something was wrong, during his speech, just in that he was d i m l y a w a r e o f it ( had a
certain feeling o f unease')'but now I realise my offence' (d 2). But in any case, as* he
virtually admits in c 4 - 5 , he hardly needed to be much o f a clairvoyant to see it, then or now.
c 5 'merely good enough for my own purposes': literally 'to the extent to which I am
adequate for myself alone', ( is 'emphatic': see 228 b 7 with note.)
c 7 'the soul too . . . ' : see on c 3-4 above. Instead o f 'soul' (psuche)
we might translate
' m i n d ' . O n the other hand what is being referred to is presumably the same thing as wbat is
labelled as psuche
in Socrates* second speech, where 'soul' is probably to be preferred: for
example we are used to talk about immortal souls, less so to the idea o f immortal
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C O M M E N T A R Y 242c-243b

C O M M E N T A R Y 2*>a-c

mindsthough the latter may in the end convey more o f Plato's own intentions.
c 8 - d 1 . . . : printed in Burnet's text as a separate line of verse, which
obscures the fact that part o f what precedes also belongs to Ibycus: . . .
is apparently a Platonic adaptation o f an original (see D. L ,
P * g t ; L y r i c a G r a e c a Selecta
(Oxford 1968) no. 278). Such adaptations o f poetic quotations
are quite common in Plato; see e.g. A p o l o g y 28 c 7-8, with S. Bernadete, 'Some mis
quotations of Homer in P l a t o ' , P h r o n e s i s 9 (1963), 173 ff. Interestingly, in view of the
content o f Socrates* second speech, another poem o f Ibycus' (no. 267 in Page) introduces the
simile o f the lover trembling like an unwilling chariot-horse before the race; and Plato
himself knew the poem well, since he paraphrases it at P a r m e n i d e s 137 a.
d 10 ' D o n ' t you think Love to be the son of Aphrodite, and a g o d ? ' The second but not the
first, according to what might be called the 'standard' account o f divine genealogy, in
Hesiod's Theogony
(though Love and Aphrodite are, as one might expect, closely
associated: see line 201); neither according to the Socrates o f the Symposium,
who presents a
different perspective on love (Hackforth): Love is the son o f Poverty and Contrivance, in
that he cunningly strives for what he does not possess, and not a god, because the gods
already possess what he strives tor, the good and the beautiful. H e is a d a i m d n , half-mortal
and half-divine, one o f a class o f beings who act as messengers between men and gods
(Symposium
201 d ff.). Here i n the P h a e d r u s , Love is after all found to be a god, because the
true love which is about to be described is divinely inspired. This flexible use of genealogy as
a means o f expressing the differing aspects o f given features o f the world we inhabit is as old
as Hesiod himself; the M o i r a i or Fates, for example, are on his account now sinister
daughters o f Night, now offspring o f Themis and Zeus, orderers o f human destiny
( T h e o g o n y 217, 904). The Greek literary tradition as a whole shows a readiness to adapt or
modify traditional themes (so in the case o f Stesichorus: see 243 a 5 ff.); Plato's departures,
as with the new account o f the origin o f Love developed in the Symposium,
are just that
much more radical.
e 2-3 ' i f Love is, as indeed he is, a god . . ' : that the gods are causes only of good is
axiomatic for Plato (cf. e.g. R e p u b l i c 379 a ff.). - ' o r something divine': Hackforth tenta
tively suggests that this is *a verbal concession . . . to the d a i m d n - E r o s view' (55 n. 1).
Alternatively, the addition merely states more precisely just what the argument will require:
not that Love is a god (about which Phaedrus appeared sceptical), but merely that love, the
thing that lovers experience, has a divine origin.
243 a 1 : with a slightly different flavour from at 233 c 6 or 238 d 1 (ironic:
cf. L S J s . v . o p a B . 6).
a 4 - b 3. Having first claimed, like H o m e r , that Helen herself went to Troy with Paris, and
having lost his sight because of it, Stesichorus (so the story goes) then recanted and said that
it was not Helen but a phantom in her shape (cf. R e p u b l i c 586 c). Homer failed to recant and
so remained blindhe 'did not understand*, or 'see* ( ), the remedy. De Vries refers
to an ancient L i f e o f H o m e r which attributed Homer's blindness to the same cause as Plato
does Stesichorus'. But Homer is the traditional blind poet, and it seems altogether preferable
to treat the comparison between him and Stesichorus as a light Platonic construction built on
166

that theme. The same tone is o f course continued in a 6-7: Stesichorus as mousiKos, a iiruej
'follower o f the Muses', or 'artist* (Hackforth), in contrast with Homer, the recognised
leader ot the 'tragic*, i.e. 'serious*. Doets ( R e p u b l i c 598 d . with L a w s 817 a)? - ' A f t e r
composing the whole o f the so-called P a l i n o d e or R e c a n t a t i o n (b 2): D . A . Campbell
discovers the opening line o f the poem in another source ( G r e e k L y r i c P o e t r y (London and
New Y o r k 1967), 258-9); with that exception, we have only that part o f it which Plato
preserves here. F o r the evidence on the form and circumstances o f the poem from sources
other than Plato see Campbell, and Page, P o e t a e M e l i c i G r a e c i (Oxford 1962), 104-6.
a 5-6 ' F o r when he was deprived of his sight because of his libel against Helen*: on the
general significance o f the theme o f blinding in Greek myth see R . G . A . Buxton, 'Blindness
and Limits: Sophocles and the logic o f m y t h ' , J H S 100 (1980), 22 ff. (p. 32 on the Stesi
chorus story). Buxton concludes that blinding is typically, though not exclusively, associated
with offences against gods. Homer generally represents Helen as a mortal woman; on the
other hand she is the daughter o f Zeus, and her husband Menelaus acquires special privileges
as Zeus' son-in-law (Odyssey
4. 561 ff.: instead o f dying in Argos, he will be conveyed to the
Elysian plain, 'where life is easiest for men'). She also had cults, at Sparta and elsewhere,
apparently as a goddess. (That P l a t o , at least, is treating her as such seems clear enough,
because ot the comparison urawn oeiwen atesicnorus' case and Socrates'.)
b 6-7 'with my head bare, and not covered as it was before*: see 237 a 4-5 with note.
c 1 ' Y e s , my good Phaedrus, f o r . . . ' : that Socrates completely ignores Phaedrus* remark
aoain underlines the difference between the two characters. Phaedrus just likes speeches:
Socrates is only going to give one because he has toand insists on explaining his reasons in
full.
9

c 3 : de Vries finds 'a slightly comic overtone' in this Doric form, basing himself
on editors* comnents on two Aristophanic passages. But for once any touch o f comedy
seems out o f place, and the appearance o f the same form in a totally humourless context in
Aristotle ( N i c o m a c h e a n E t h i c s 1100 b 32, which de Vries also mentions) suggests that it can
be used, in prose at least, as a simple variant o f the ordinary A t t i c .
c 4 - 6 . The point about lovers 'starting hostilities* comes from Lysias' speech (233 c 2),
while their jealousy and harm fulness were two o f the main ideas in Socrates' (see especially
239a7ff.).
c 7-8 'brought up among sailors . . . a love of the sort that belongs to free men': since the
sole function o f ordinary sailors was to provide muscle-power, it is perhaps not surprising
that they should become synonymous with roughness (cf. Aristophanes F r o g s 1069 ft.: and
the attitude o f sedentary nineteenth-century Englishmen to the 'navvies' who built their
canals and railways). For a lengthy disquisition on their general lack o f the 'nobler' qualities,
see L a w s 704 a ff. Such qualities are the mark o f the man who is as a free man and citizen
should be. Those who manned the Athenian fleets would in fact have been both free and
citizens; it is to them that Aristotle attributes the strengthening o f the democracy after the
victory over the Persians at Salamis, because the city's subsequent supremacy depended on
sea-power ( P o l i t i c s 1304 b 21 ff.). But the idea o f the 'free man' ( e l e u t h e r o s ) is always liable
to have moral as well as merely legal or constitutional implications: one may be legally a free
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C O M M E N T A R Y 243d-245c

C O M M E N T A R Y 243e-24.

man, but still be said to behave in an 'unfree* ( a n e l e u t h e r o s ) or slavish, i.e. ignorant,

brutish, or generally disgraceful way: cf. K . J . Dover (1974), 114-16.
d 2 'Very probably* ( ) : impatient irony?
d 4-5 ' b i t t e r . . . wholesome': literally 'salty', h a l m u r o s , or 'brackish' (of drinking-water
in Thucydides), and 'drinkable', p o t i m o s . What was described i n 242 b 8 ff. as a religious
offence has in effect been redescribed, in 243 c 1 ff., as an offence against good taste; the
present metaphor serves as a kind o f secular version o f the religious ideas o f 'expiation' and
purification' (242 c 3,243 a 3).
d 6 : for other examples o f this type o f adverbial expression, see L S J s.v. lx
III. 8. The meaning o f the phrase here is established in Fraenkel's commentary on
Aeschylus' A g a m e m n o n , in his note on line 1423, and my rendering is based on the inter
pretation given there ('in return for favours received': more literally, 'on equal terms',
contrasting with the one-sided relationship which would exist between boy and non-lover
or indeed the non-ideal l o v e r , as he has been described by both Lysias and Socrates; cf.
also note on 230 e 6).
d 8 - e 1 o n c e you have given . . . ' : Phaedrus either misses or more likely ignores Socrates
point. Lysias will have to be forced to respond, not in order to make amends (and why
indeed should he, i f he wasn't serious in the first place?), but merely because i f he doesn't,
Socrates will go one up in the series by default. F o r Phaedrus, and so by implication for
Lysias, speech-making and speech-writing are not about truth but about competition.
e 2 'so long as you remain the man you are': cf. especially 236 d 6 ff., 242 a 7 ff.
e 3 'with full confidence': i.e. that he will do as he says, and make Lysias reply.
e 7-8 'Here he is . . ' : i f Phaedrus takes on the character o f the 'boy*, there is no
suggestion, as de Vries argues against Friedlander and others, of an 'erotic link* between him
and Socrates. H e is indeed the younger man (cf. e.g. 257 c 8), and there is plenty of banter in
the dialogue; but none o f it is obviously o f an erotic k i n d . Socrates has his 'beloved',
supposedly, in Isocrates (279 b 2)and Phaedrus has his own (so Socrates pretends), in the
shape o f Lysias (236 b 5, 257 b 4 - 5 , 2 7 9 b 2-3).
4

243 e 9 - 2 4 5 c 5: Socrates* second speech begins.

Both Lysias' speech and Socrates* first speech claimed that the lover should not be
favoured, because he was mad. But Socrates now says that this would only be right if all
madness were evil, and in fact it is not; i f it comes from the gods, it is responsible for the
greatest o f goods (244 a 6-8). H e produces three examples: the madness of the seer, of
sufferers from an inherited curse, whose madness finds a cure for their suffering, and of
inspired poets. The task will then be to show that love is a fourth kind o f divine madness,
given 'as a means to the greatest good fortune* (245 b 7).
There a a number o f peculiarities in the passage. (1). While the first and third of the kinds
of madness or possession (245 a 2) are recognised types, the second is not; or at any rate there
are no clear examples o f it in the Greek literary tradition as it is known to usalthough the
case o f Orestes in Aeschylus* O r e s t e i a trilogy possesses some o f the relevant features, and as
Hackforth suggests, Plato might possibly have in mind some variant o f that story. (2). The
168

passage contains what looks at first sight an odd mix o f the serious and the playful: a
reference to the utterances o f the oracles o f Delphi and Dodona, which we must evidently
take as seriously intended (in the light e.g. o f Plato*s handling o f the theme o f the Delphic
response in the A p o l o g y ) , is swiftly followed by a longer and quite fanciful essay in
etymology. (3). The suggestion that poetic inspiration (245 a 1 ff., the third kind o f madness)
is responsible for some o f the 'greatest goods* appears to sit uneasily with what is said about
poets in other Platonic dialogues: see note on 235 c 3-4. True, room is made in the ideal
states o f bcith the R e p u b l i c and the L a w s for a certain type o f poetry, i.e. for poetry which
provides the right models for behaviour ( R e p u b l i c 607 a, L a w s 816 d ff.); and it might be
that this is what is to count as 'inspired* (cf. 245 a 4 - 5 : the third kind o f madness 'educates
succeeding generations by glorifying myriad deeds o f those o f the past'). So Hackforth. But
this is not wholly convincing. The description o f the 'poetry o f the sane' in 245 a 5-8 seems
rather to rest on an appeal to ordinary notions o f what makes a good or a bad poem. The
context as a whole is reminiscent o f I o n 534 d ff.. where the unfortunate Tynnichus o f
Chalcis is said to have been given one good poem by the Muses, just in order to demonstrate
that good poetry is not human but divine, and that poets are 'nothing but the interpreters o f
the gods'. A s it happens, however, the problem disappears on this interpretation too. The
P h a e d r u s passage will not after all be paying any real compliment to the poetsindeed,
rather the reverse, since the further implication, drawn out by the I o n , is that the poets
themselves are ignorant, and draw 'their' creations from sources outside them. But this
raises a further difficulty. (4). If knowledge is opposed to, and something higher than,
inspiration, as it is not only in the I o n but in the M e n o (99 c - d , with reference to both poets
and seers), then 'manic' love, which will later be represented as itself an expression o f the
impulse towards knowledge and wisdom, ought to be ranked above the other forms o f
possession (as indeed it is, by implication, in 248 d-e); yet here it is apparently compared
directly with them. One solution, implicitly adopted by Hackforth, is just to say that
Socrates is here talking about seers o f the more respectable sort (which the passage does after
all single out, by contrast with others o f a less respectable kind: 244 c 5 ff.), and the better
sort o f poet. But i f this solution might fit in the case o f the seers, it works less well for the
poets (see under 3 above). A better alternative, on the face o f it, is to suppose that the
comparison between love and the other three types o f madness is intended i n strictly limited
terms. What is in common between all four types is just that they are god-given, and (there
fore) result in good things for mankind. Nothing beyond that need be implied, and in
particular nothing about the status o f the first three in relation to the fourth. Socrates'
explicit purpose, after all, is simply to answer the objection that madness is a bad thing (245
1 ff.). Not so, he savs. since there are at least three types which are goodto which he
proposes to add a fourth.
So much for the implications o f the passage by itself. But i f we read it in close conjunction
with what precedes, the attitude adonted towards the first three types appears as rather less
positive. 1 return here to the first o f the problems listed above, the apparent oddity o f the
second example o f madness. One o f the key ideas here is that o f purification: the sufferer's
madness finds him a cure by 'hitting upon secret rites of purification* (244 e 2). This theme
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C O M M E N T A R Y 243e-244b

of a search for purification has occurred before, in relation to Socrates himself (242 b ff.),
just as he has also appeared in the role o f seer (242 c), and appealed for poetic inspiration
(237 a). But in each case his turns out to be a predominantly rational 'inspiration'. His brand
of m a n l i k e enables him to work out both his error and the means o f purification for himself;
and what i n fact followed his appeal to the Muses was a perfectly controlled piece of
argument. O n the two occasions on which he claims to have been overtaken by the poetic
impulse, he treats that as a threat to be averted rather than as something to be welcomed (238
d 2 ff., 241 e 1 ff.). In each case, then, Socrates retains his own rational identity. The three
types o f madness thus simultaneously correspond to and contrast with aspects of Socrates,
and it is this, 1 believe, which provides the motive for the composition o f the list. O f the
three, the first and third lie to hand, while the second Plato either discovers or invents (see
above).
If this analysis can be accepted, the clear implication is that while others depend on
inspiration from outside, Socrates has resources o f his o w n . So at the end o f the present
speech he dedicates it to Love as 'the finest and best palinode o f w h i c h I am c a p a b l e (257
a 3-4). (I owe this point, and a number o f others in the present discussion, to the unpub
lished draft o f a paper on the speech by Myles Burnyeat. The details o f his argument,
however, and his general conclusions, are different from mine.) Specifically, it is based on
knowledge, or on such knowledge as he has. But there is still an analogy to be drawn between
Socrates' state and that o f the seer or poet proper. The philosopher himself is 'possessed', in
so far as he is drawn irresistibly, through memory, towards the final initiation in truth and
beauty (249 c - d , 253 a 3). In one sense, his knowledge comes from within; in another, it is
the result o f forces acting on him from outside. The description o f the lover as 'losing
control o f himself (250 a 7) applies only to the beginning o f the process, the first awakening
of love and the philosophical impulse. In the mature lover and philosopher, reason has fully
reasserted itself (256 a-b).
There remains problem 2. For the purposes o f this section o f Socrates' speech (see under
4 above), the reference to the priestesses o f Delphi and D o d o n a , and to the Sibyl, would by
itself suffice. A Greek audience would readily have accepted that their utterances were both
(a) inspired, i.e. the result o f 'possession' or madness (cf. e.g. Heraclitus fr. 92 on ihe Sibyl),
and (b) beneficial to mankind, just as they would have accepted the idea of poetic
inspiration. (See especially Dodds, ch. 2, which makes extensive reference to the present
passage in the P h a e d r u s . ) The serious work done, Plato is now free to indulge in one of his
favourite pastimes, playing with etymologies. ' M a n t i c ' , he makes Socrates claim, is a
modern corruption o f 'manic', while the name o f the inferior ' o i o n i s t i c (divination from
birds, o i d n o i ) is supposedly corrupted from ' o i o n o i s t i c , the derivation o f which indicates
the purely human basis o f the 'art' concerned. Both derivations are deliberately fanciful,
though the second, as it happens, more so that the first: there may in fact be an etymological
link between m a n t i s and m a n i a (Dodds, 70), and the connection had been made by others
before the date o f the P h a e d r u s (cf. Euripides B a c c h a e 299, and probably also the fragment
of Heraclitus referred to aboveHeraclitus too had a penchant for etymology).The purpose
of this i e u d ' e s p r i t , according to Hackforth, is that o f 'fixing in the reader's mind the point
that augury is inferior to divination proper' (59), i.e., presumably, to piepare us for what is

on Hackforth's account a surprisingly low rating for the seer at 248 d. But that passage refers
only to 'the life o f the seer' without qualification, which it would be natural to take as
including the higher type as well as the loweror even as referring exclusively to the higher
type, since the title o f the seer is here reserved for it. ( A l l o f this, incidentally, adds weight to
the conclusion reached under 4 above.) Plato is clearly by no means reluctant to take the
opportunity afforded by the argument to attack a pseudo-science: cf. Timaeus
72 b - c , on
'seers' who inspect livers (Dodds, 217, describes the attitude o f both passages as one o f
'thinly disguised contempt'). But over and above this there is, I suggest, a larger purpose,
which is to indicate something about the tone o f Socrates' speech as a whole. The way in
which he introduced it to Phaedrus tended to suggest that it would be wholly seriousby
contrast e.g. with Lysias' speech. That impression is now corrected: it will itself, after a l l ,
contain elements o f the playful (on the significance o f this, see Introduction). So far from
being a problem, or a merely accidental by-product, the striking mix o f this first part o f
Socrates' speech turns outon this viewto form an integral part o f Plato's strategy.

170

243 e 9 - 2 4 4 a 3 'my beautiful ( k a l o s ) boy' rings strangely in English; but beauty in its
human and other forms is one o f the main themes o f the speech, and a translation like
'handsome' would obscure the connection. (In any case the word here means
'beautiful'.)
- The adjective euphemos
means 'speaking auspiciously' (or 'silent', since the safest way to
a'void offence to the gods is to say nothing); ' o f H i m e r a ' suggests h i m e r o s , 'desire'. If Stesi
chorus really was the son o f a Euphemus, and from Himera, that is a happy coincidence.
Some commentators have also found a significance for the context i n the names o f
Phaedrus' father and demeat the least extreme, Pythocles connects with k l e o s , 'fame*,
Myrrhinous with m y r r h i n e , 'myrtle': Thompson compares R e p u b l i c 372 b, where myrtle is
mentioned as part o f the trappings o f festivity (but festivity o f a simple, not luxurious, kind).
On balance, though, it seems better to take the full designation o f Phaedrus' name as a way
of introducing the more obvious plays on Stesichorus' (supposed) origins. The speech
belongs to Stesichorus, o f course, just in the sense that it is a palinode, like that o f Stesi
chorus. It will also in a sense be 'poetic': Socrates remarks at the end on its 'somewhat
poetical language' (257 a 5, with note).
244 b 2 : the aorist here is gnomic (similarly in b 5, e 1, e 3, and 245 a 8), as is
shown by the present tense in a 7. It is a general truth that the kinds o f madness in question
are responsible for good things.
b 2-3 'whereas when sane . . . ' : '[this] surely does not mean that besides her trance
utterances the Pythia also gave oracles (of inferior quality) i n her normal state ( s o p h r o n o u s a ) , but only that apart from her mediumship she had no particular gifts* (Dodds, 87-8).
b 3. The Sibyl, unlike the priestesses o f Delphi and Dodona, was evidently a mythical
figure, associated with various different places.
b 4 'inspired prophecy', m a n t i k e i e n t h e o i : i n s p i r e d ' is a convenient but to some extent
misleading translation o f entheos,
which means actual possession o f the individual by a god
or gods (en-theos:
'the body has a god in i f , Dodds, loc. cit.), rather than the kind o f action
from outside suggested by the literal sense o f 'inspiration', i.e. 'breathing i n ' or 'on*. C f . the
use o f e p i p n e i n ('breathe on*) in 262 d 3-5, where the context demands that both parties to
the relationship retain their separate identity. O n the other hand, Plato himself evidently did
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C O M M E N T A R Y 244b-245a

C f C O M M E N T A R Y 245a-c
1

not draw too sharp a line between the two ideas: 265 b 3 ascribes 'mantic madness to the
i n s p i r a t i o n ( e p i p n o i a ) of Apollo.
b 5-6 ' . . . we would spin the story o u t . . . But it is worthwhile to adduce the point. . ' :
a transparent ploy, by which pure invention (the etymologies o f m a n t i k e and o i d n i s t i k e , and
the conclusions read from them) is smuggled in as it it were established fact.
b 6 - d 5. The underlying idea here, that the names o f things have been fixed by ancient
wisdom in accordance with the nature o f the things themselves (so that we can discover
truths about them by investigating their names) closely resembles one o f the major theses
discussedand rejectedin the C r a t y l u s , which probably dates from around the same time
as the P h a e d r u s . The present context itself constitutes a kind o f r e d u c t i o a d a b s u r d u m of the
thesis.
1

c 1 'the finest of the sciences : doubly ironic, since m a n t i k e is neither 'finest* (248 d-e),
nor even a science ( t e c h n e ) at a l l . The t e c h n i t e s or proponent o f a science or art possesses
knowledge, which enables him to reach reasoned judgements about his particular sphere
(/on, G o r g i a s ) ; the state o f mind o f the man who is possessedthough not, of course, that
of the ideal lover or philosopher, who represents a special kind o f 'possession': see pp. 168 ff
aboveis precisely one where reason is absent ( i o n 534 b , with reference to both poets and
lingers of oracles').
c 5-6 . . .: literally, 'the investigation o f the future which
belongs to those in possession o f their minds, making (it) both bv means of birds . . . '.
(Some editors place a comma after , giving the sense 'the (science) of sane men, who
make an investigation o f the future . . .*, which de Vries rightly finds Otiose and even
disturbing', though it gives a slightly more elegant construction.) - T h e fact that o i d n i s t i k e
(sc. techne)
is the province o f the sane, and proceeds O n the basis o f thought' (ek d i a n o i a s
c 7, ' i n a rational way'), ought apparently to give it a stronger claim than m a n t i k e to being a
true science (see preceding note). But Plato evidently does not think much o f it, since despite
its claims to rationality he still rates its p r o d u c t s lower than those o f m a n t i k e (d 3: that this is
to be taken at face value is confirmed by the passage at Timaeus
72 b - c ; the state of a dead
animal's liver will be one o f the 'other signs' referred to here in c 5-6).
d 2 'when name is measured against name': i.e. because 'mantic' is closer to the original
and proper name, and therefore (see note on b 6 - d 5 above) more clearly indicates the nature
of the thing itself?
244 d 5-245 a 1 . . . : genitives depending on in e 1. - . . .
: the ellipse of the verb in this clause ('occur' is supplied in the translation) is perhaps
poetic, though Hackforth finds it 'hardly tolerable*; other references to poetry are implicit in
the position o f and the word itself. Plato thus points to the immediate source of the
idea; Ast plausibly finds an actual reminiscence o f . . . in Euripides
Phoenissae
9 3 4 . - ( 7): I understand from 'finds (gnomic
aorist) a release (by those things) by which it was necessary for them to be released*. If this is
too harsh, supply , with de Vries: 'madness, coming about and
interpreting (in those) in whom it was necessary for it to do so*. - 'forms o f service ( l a t r e i a i )
to the gods* (e 1-2): cf. A p o l o g y 23 c 1, which describes Socrates' (rational) examination of
t

172

his fellow-citizens in just this way ('my service to the god'). This may add some further
support to the general interpretation o f this first section o f Socrates' speech offered above,
-'secret rites o f purification* (e 2): literally, 'forms o f purification and secret rites*. - O u t
of danger*, exantes:
a medical term (cf. 242 e 5: Lysias and Socrates in his first speech said
nothing healthy* or 'sound*, h u g i e s ) . - (e 3): for the partitive genitive
('him who has o f it*), suspected by some editors, see especially Dodds on G o r g i a s
514 a 5-8 (reference from de Vries).
245 a 1 ff. Plato makes the same connection between poetic possession and madness in the
I o n (lyric poets are like Corybantic dancers, or women gripped by Bacchic frenzy, 533
e-534 a); whether the connection would have been an accepted one is- another matter.
Socrates can slip it in partly because he has just equated madness and possession in relation
to the previous type (244 e 4).
a 7-8 'both he and his poetry . .*: Socrates rounds off his external evidence for the
blessings o f madness with a suitably elaborate rhetorical nourish, ('imperfect and unful
filled* translates the single word ateles.
'Imperfect' is the primary meaning here; 'unfulfilled'
does duty for 'uninitiated*, which is one o f the other senses o f ateles,
and one o f which Plato
could hardly have been unconscious in the present context.)
b 7 ' W e . . . must prove*: what follows is hardly a ' p r o o f in any strict sense, though it
starts with one (the proof o f the immortality o f the soul); more a persuasive description,
though not necessarily the worse for that.
c 2 'disbelieved by the clever ( d e i n o i ) , believed by the wise ( s o p h o i V: at 229 c - d both
terms were applied to those who attempted to rationalise the mythsthey were the 'experts',
an 'over-clever* ( l i a n d e i n o s ) sort o f people. The present context probably adds weight to the
interpretation proposed for that passage (note on 229 c 6 ff.), as preparing us for Socrates'
own use o f mythological ideas here in the second speech. The shift to a positive sense of
sophos
is no real objectionindeed, after the negative use of d e i n o s , it perhaps even adds a
nice touch o f paradox; 'deinos
and sophos\
as de Vries says, is frequently used as a
derogatory expression, both in and outside Plato ('too clever by h a l f ) .
The general spirit in which the following account is to be taken is perhaps the one
suggested by Socrates' comments in the Phaedo
on the myth which he offers there: 'to insist
that these things are just as I have related them is not fitting for a man o f intelligence; but i f
someone thinks that either this or something like it is true . . ., that seems to me to be both
fitting and worth risking . . .* (114 d). But at the same time we should beware o f trying to
apply this kind o f interpretation too strictly to his new story, which will turn outin contrast
to the pervasive earnestness o f the context in the Phaedoalso
to have its lighter side (cf.
pp. 170-1 above); and that, no doubt, will give a further twist to the idea that it will be
'believed by the wise*.
c 3-5.1 differ from Burnet in treating these lines as a separate paragraph, since they mark
a new beginning. The ovv ('then*) in c 3 appears at first to suggest that the necessity for the
question Socrates now proposes to raise follows from b 1 ff.; in fact it does not, in any
important sense. The connection o f thought is rather this: have said we must prove our
side of the case. So (let's make a beginning; and) what we must do first is . . Socrates gives
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C O M M E N T A R Y 245c-246a

C O M M E N T A R Y 245c-d

no explanation o f his choice o f starting-point, but the reasoning is obvious enough: the
madness o f love is a condition o f the soul, so that we must begin by 'comprehending the
truth' about soul. Divine and human souls are to be treated together because the states of
divine souls will turn out to provide paradigms for their human counterparts, - ' b y
observing experiences and actions belonging to i t ' : the evidence will be circumstantial; cf.
246 a 5-6.
245 c 6 - 2 4 9 d 3: 'experiences and actions' of divine and human souls*
A n y division o f the main part o f Socrates' speech is likely to appear more or less arbitrary;
in the event the ' p r o o f o f the blessings o f love merges seamlessly with the treatment of soul
promised as a first step i n 245 c 3 - 5 . But some sort o f break occurs at 249 d, with the
reappearance i n explicit form o f the main theme o f love as madness.
245 c 6-246 a 2: the proof o f the immortality o f the soul. The soul's immortality is a
presupposition o f the description o f its 'experiences' which is to follow, and Socrates
methodically begins with a proof o f it. The immortality o f divine souls might reasonably be
taken as given: what are gods, i f not immortal? What Socrates is claiming, and what requires
proof, is that the souls o f mortal creatures too share i n immortality { a l l soul, 245 c 6), just as
rhey will be said to have the potential to share in other aspects o f the gods' existence. This set
o f ideasto which we may add that o f 'metempsychosis', according to which souls inhabit a
series o f bodies, human and/or animal, 248 e ff.regularly recurs in Plato's treatments of
the nature and fate o f the soul (notably P h a e d o , R e p u b l i c X , T i m a e u s ) , though since it is
usually dressed up in 'mythical* form, as it is in the P h a e d r u s , it always remains open just
how literally it is to be understood. The source o f these ideas is i n Pythagoreanism; the proof
of immortality itself appears to have close connections with an argument attributed
sredficaily to the Pythagorean Alcmaeon o f C r o t o n (see especially Jonathan Barnes, The
F s o c r a t i c P h i l o s o p h e r s (London, Henley and Boston 1979) v o l . 1,114-20). It is the sixth in
a line of such proofs in Plato (four i n the P h a e d o , one i n R e p u b l i c X ) ; the firmness of his
commitment at least to the idea o f the immortality o f the soul is not i n doubt.
The proof, as I understand it, goes like this. A l l soul is immortal. (1). For (introducing the
whole argument) what is always in movement is immortal; but what moves something else
and is moved by something else ceases to live when it ceases to move. Therefore only that
which moves itself never ceases to move, because it never leaves itself behind (sc. as the other
class of moving things are, or can be, 'left behind' by what moves them).
The argument thus far appears more or less self-contained (and may represent Plato's
version of Alcmaeon's argument, though I should not want to press the point). What is alive
remains so as long as it moves. But the movement o f what is moved by something else
depends on its purely contingent contact with the mover. By contrast, the self-mover is
always and necessarily 'in contact with* its mover, i.e. itself. A d d in the further premiss that
self-movers are souls (e 2 ff.), and the result is that soul is always and necessarily in
movement, and therefore alive: a self-mover moves by definitionbeing just what moves
itselfand is immune to the cause o f death in the other case. But why should there not be
some other cause of its ceasing to move, i.e. its destruction? The argument has so far shown
174

only that it is 'always i n movement' i n the sense o f moving continuously (while it exists), not
that its movement is e t e r n a l (see now R . W . Sharpies, L i v e r p o o l C l a s s i c a l M o n t h l y 10.5
(May 1985), 66). This is what the next part sets out to establish.
(2). What moves itself is also source and first principle ('beginning', a r c h e ) o f movement
for the other things that move. A first principle cannot come into being (is ungenerated,
a g e n e t o n ) , because everything that comes into being does so (ultimately) from a first
principle, while a first principle does not come into being from anything; i f it d i d , it would
not come from a first principleand would therefore break the axiom just stated (try
treating what it came from as a first principle: then, i f first principles come from something,
t h a t will come from somethingand so on a d i n f i n i t u m , so that we should never reach a true
beginning or first principle). But since it cannot come into being, it must necessarily also be
imperishable: given that everything (literally 'the sum o f things', t a p a n t o ) comes to be from
a first principle, then i f the first principle o f anything perishes, that thing will cease to come
to be, since once having perished its first principle will never come to be again. These results
can now be applied to what moves itself, as first principle o f movement: it will be capable
neither o f perishing nor o f coming into being, since i f it were (capable o f perishing), the
whole universe could come to a halt (i.e. with the perishing o f all available self-movers, and
the cessation o f the movements caused by them) and never again have a source from which
movement could start (because new self-movers cannot come into being). What is moved by
itself is therefore immortal, and this ('what is moved by itself) is the 'essence and definition'
of soul, because it is the presence and absence o f soul which distinguishes those bodies which
have a source o f movement within themselves from those which are moved from outside, this
being the nature o f soul (i.e. to act as source o f movement). If, then, what moves itself is
soul, it is necessarily ungenerated and immortal (because i n motion, and therefore alive,
both continuously and eternally).
For other interpretations o f the strategy o f the argument, see e.g. Hackforth, Robinson,
and Barnes (as cited* above); I have merely offered what I take as the most natural reading.
245 c 6. F o r ('always in movement'), some editors have preferred
('self-moving'), which also appears i n an extant papyrus fragment o f the P h a e d r u s . But pace
A c k r i l l (278), the logic o f the argument makes the M S S reading preferable (despite the
apparent authority o f the papyrus, which considerably predates the M S S ) .
c 6-8 'that which moves something e l s e . . . ceases from living': since only what is alive can
cease to live, Plato is either (a) proposing to treat large numbers o f inanimate objects as
actually alive (bows, axes, billiard balls), or (b) referring only to animate members o f the
class in question. Presumably (b), since (a) would be quite unmotivated. The implicit
reference is to what are called 'ensouled bodies', empsucha
s o m a t a , in e 4 - 6 : the bodies o f
living things, which are moved by the souls in them, and thereby move other things.
c 9. Following de Vries, I print a full stop after , in place o f Burnet's comma, and
treat as 'progressive' (adding a new argument).
d 1-2 ' a l l that comes into being must come into being from a first principle': not that
everything must be caused directly by a first principle, but that any coming into being must
be u l t i m a t e l y traceable to the operation o f a first principle (cf. c 6-7, where b is moved by
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C O M M E N T A R Y 245d-e

C O M M E N T A R Y 245e-246b

a and moves c). Intuitively, perhaps, not an implausible assumption, especially given a
universe whichlike Plato'sis finite. The argument o f L a w s X seems at one point to allow
the possibility o f an infinite series o f imparted movements, but in the end reasserts the
position adopted in the P h a e d r u s , that all chains must have a beginning (see Rowe (1984),
189ff.).
d 3 'it would not do so (come into being) from a first principle': many editors have
preferred readings o f the text which give the easier and more obvious sense 'it could not/no
longer be a first principle' (see apparatus), and they receive some support in this from
Cicero's Latin version o f the passage in his D e R e p u b l i c a (6. 27). De Vries mentions two
explanations o f the main M S reading, neither o f which is wholly convincing (as Sharpies, in
the article cited on the preceding page, agrees); I have offered a third (see analysis above)
which I believe avoids the weaknesses o f both.
d 3-6. The argument here (see analysis) clearly requires the further, unstated assumption
that the patterns o f change in the world are unalterable: see following note.
d 7 - e 2. Elsewhere too Plato rejects the idea o f a motionless universe as absurd ( P h a e d o
72 b - c , L a w s 895 a); quite why he finds it so absurd, he fails to say. He might argue,
however, that it has evidently run quite smoothly up till now, with no signs o f the diminution
of activity which one might expect as a result o f a perpetual decrease in the (presumably
finite) supply o f self-movers, and that there is therefore every expectation that it will
continue to do so. This same view o f the universe, as a smoothly running system, may also
underlie the rather stronger assumption required by d 3-6. 'or else . . . ' : this must attach
specifically to the denial o f the perishability o f the self-mover: i f self-movers had the
capacity for coming into being, then there c o u l d be new sources o f movement, (
. . . : sc. / .) - 'the whole o f that which comes to be': i.e. the universe in its
dynamic aspect. (For Burnetafter Philoponusreads , which would yield
the sense 'the whole heaven
and the whole e a r t h , collapsing i n t o one, might stand s t i l l . .
But certainly works better; for the use o f the word in a concrete sense, cf.
Timaeus
29 e 4 .) - ' f r o m which things will come to be moved': literally 'from
which (things) will come to be having been moved'. Being moved, .as is implicit in the
whole argument, is a specific kind of 'coming into being* or change.
e 3 'the essence and the definition*: the verbal definition ( l o g o s ) o f a thing grasps its
essence ( o u s i a ) , or what it is. C f . L a w s 895 d ff., which introduces the two categories (with
a third, the name o f the thing), in connection with a very similar definition of soul, as 'the
movement which has the power to move i t s e l f .
e 4 *it will incur no shame to say': an implicit reference to the inadequacy of verbal
definitions in general ( L e t t e r V I I 342 a ff.)?
e 4 - 6 . Plato here takes an ordinary classification o f things in the world, into what is alive
or animate ( e m p s u c h o n ) and what is dead or inanimate ( a p s u c h o n ) , and persuasively
reinterprets it: that what distinguishes the first class o f things from the second is that (some
of) their movements come from within them, everyone might accept; they would (and
should) be less ready to accept that this capacity for internally caused movement results from
their being 'ensouled', en-psucha,
i.e. having a psuche
in them in the special, Platonic,
176

sense, as a self-contained source o f that movement. Here at least the argument fails to
achieve the rigour to which it otherwise pretends.
245 e 7 - 2 4 6 a 1 'that which moves itself is nothing other than s o u l ' : i.e. all self-movers are
souls, which is different from what has just been 'demonstrated', that souk are self-movers.
But it will follow, i f soul is just 'what moves itselfwhich is what the definition asserts.
Thus even those self-movers which operate on the cosmic scale (see notes on 246 c 1-2 and
c 7 - d 2) are souls. What Socrates now goes on to describe (i.e. i n 246 a 3 ff.) are the
different k i n d s o f movements which originate from specific types o f soul: divine souls
inhabiting the superlunary sphere, and souls which come to inhabit human and animal
bodies.
246 a 3 'about its f o r m ' ( i d e a ) : i d e a here seems more or less equivalent to 'what kind o f
thing it is* ( h o i o n e s t i ) in the following line (see on 237 d 6).
a 4 - 6 . The series o f arguments for the tripartite nature o f the soul in R e p u b l i c IVwhich
represent as it were the philosophical underpinning for the ideas about to be presented
hereis also prefaced by a reference to a 'longer road*, i.e. to a proper treatment (435 c - d ;
cf. 504 a-b and 611 a ff.). ('would require a longer exposition*: literally '(is) o f , 'belongs
to', 'is a matter o f . )
a 6-7 'combined power': 'combined' is an inadequate rendering o f sumphutos,
'born
together', or 'grown together*, suggesting that 'the whole is thought o f as a single organism'
(de Vries). C f . d 2 ('combined* = s u m p e p h u k o t a ) . - ' w i n g e d * qualifies both nouns (cf. 251
b 7). - 'team*: zeugos
normally, but not necessarily, means a pair; s u n o r i s , which is used in
b 2, and certainly does mean a pair, is actually opposed to zeugos in A p o l o g y 36 d ('team o f
four'?). Hackforth (69, n . 3) comments: ' P l a t o , while definitely affirming triplicity in the
souls destined to inhabit human bodies, deliberately leaves vague the number o f "parts" o f
soul in general, and o f the gods' souls.' This is plausible. A n y specification o f the number o f
horses belonging to divine souls might raise awkward questions about the relationship
between their role and that o f the horses of human souls: charioteer plus two horses are
specifically required i n our case to explain our peculiar mix o f rationality and irrationality
(see following note), whereas the gods, who are always and exclusively rational, seem to need
horses only to pull their chariots.
b 1-3. Driver (or 'ruler') and second horse are already familiar to us from Socrates' first
speech: they are respectively reason and the desire for sensual gratification, or now, more
precisely, those elements in us which make us capable of reasoning and desiring. T o these
elements Socrates now adds a third, the 'noble and good' horse, which is required for a
proper treatment o f the 'experiences and actions* o f the soul. A s the sequel shows, this
further element corresponds to what R e p u b l i c IV labels the 'spirited* part, t o t h u m o e i d e s ,
the source o f the higher emotions and the natural ally of reason, just as the charioteer clearly
corresponds to the reasoning or 'calculative* part ( t o l o g i s t i k o n ) , and the second horse to the
'appetitive* ( t o e p i t h u m e t i k o n ) . - I n the first place our driver has charge o f a pair*: the
point is not, pace Hackforth, that our charioteers, unlike the gods', have to control p a i r s
(unless pairs are always more difficult to control than larger teams); rather perhaps that
whereas in the case o f the gods horses and charioteers are as one (horses share the goodness
4

177

C O M M E N T A R Y 246b-247a

C O M M E N T A R Y 247a-c

of charioteers, a 8), in our case there is a distinction between them, the charioteer as 'ruling'
and the horses as requiring positive control (I owe this suggestion i n part to Myles Bumyeat).
But worse still, the horses themselves are mismatched: one good, one bad (b 2-3).
b 5 ff. ' H o w then it i s . . . ' : the similarity argued for between us and the gods suggests the
old c a n a r d (first exposed by the poet-philosopher Xenophanes in the sixth century) that the
gods are, like us, 'living creatures', compounds o f soul and body (c 5). If our souls, like
theirs, are immortal, how is it that we are called mortal, and they immortal? The truth'is that
such compounds occur only when souls shed their wings and fall downwards, forming
temporary unions with 'earthy bodies' (c 2-6). In its perfect, winged state^jsoul traverses the
heavens and controls the whole universe (b 7 - c 2: cf. note o n e 4 ff.), and this is the
permanent state o f the gods. (Rather than h a v i n g souls, they a r e souls.)
c 7 - d 1 'we imagine a kind o f immortal living creature which has both a soul and a body':
compare and contrast Timaeus
41 a - b , where the stars and planets are treated as (a) alive, (b)
gods, but (c) not immortal in the full sense, although they will not i n fact die. In the L a w s ,
however (897 b ff.), it is the souls which move the heavenly bodies which are gods, not the
heavenly bodies themselves.
d 2-3 'let this . . . be as is pleasing to g o d ' : ' a very frequent formula for expressing pious
reservation' (de Vries, with references). C f . 238 d 6-7.
d 6 f f. The subject o f (d 7) is , easily supplied from .
in d 8 must be a gloss, since soul is emphatically not one o f the things which 'belong to the
sphere o f the b o d y ' . It looks like somebody's despairing attempt to add weight to the
argument. But the argument was not meant to carry weight i n the first place (cf. p. 171
above). A r e birds* wings nourished i n the same way?
e 4 ff. 'First i n the heaven travels Zeus . . . ' In this speech the gods retain at least some of
their traditional features: Zeus is their king, H e r a his queen (see 253 b 1-3 with note); Hestia
is goddess o f the hearth (247 a 1-2); and so o n . But they are also unmistakably the souls
vhicn move the heavenly bodies (cf. note on 246 c 7 - d 1): why else should they spend their
time travelling and 'turning* (247 a 5) through the heavensand indeed what other role
could there be for pure souls moving through the upper air? A g a i n , it is hard to see how on
any other basis each god could have his own s p e c i f i c role (each 'performs what belongs to
him*, 247 a 6). But this identification is left blurred and inexplicit, in order to allow the intro
duction o f those elements from traditional theology which are necessary for the story. In
particular, the gods have to be free to travel to their feast (247 a 8 ff.).
e 6 'divinities': translates d a i m o n e s , which I interpret here as a synonym of t h e o i , 'gods*.
But de Vries may well be right i n taking it to refer to ' a l l non-divine souls' (cf. 247 a 6-7,
m t h 243 a 1). For a similar use o f d a i m b n (of a fallen 'spirit' which can regain its divinity)
see Hmpedocles fr. 115.
247 a i - 2 'Hestia remains i n the house of the gods alone': i.e. as goddess of the hearth.
Another playful touch (as de Vries pertinently asks, why should Hestia be deprived of the
feast which the other eleven Olympians enjoy?). M a n y scholars have found an Elusion here
to the identification between Hestia and the earth which is attributed to s o p h o i in Euripides
fr. 944; or else the allusion is to the Pythagorean idea that the centre of the universe is
178

occupied by fire (references in Hackforth and de Vries). Either o f these suggestions is

possible, but their interest is restricted by the fact that neither would add anything to the
story (and the first might even detract from it).
a 6 'each of them performing what belongs to him* ( p r a t t o n . . . t a h a u t o u ) : for the
deliberate vagueness o f this expression, see note on 246 e 4 ff. But it also contains a
deliberate echo o f the important definition o f justice in R e p u b l i c I V : both state and
individual, Socrates argues there, will be just when the elements in them each p r a t t e i t a h a u t o u
(433 a, 435 b - c , 443 b ff.). The gods provide an example o f a perfectly ordered and just
community: each performing his allotted role, under the control o f Zeus and his fellow
Olympians, just as in the ideal state o f the R e p u b l i c the citizens will each fulfil the role
allotted to them by nature, under the beneficial rule o f the philosopher-guardians.
a 6-7 'and after them follows anyone who wishes and is able to do so': here at least, other,
non-divine souls are introduced (see on 246 e 6).
a 8 'to their feasting': the chief joint occupation o f the Homeric gods.
b 1. If the asyndeton after is too harsh (Thompson), then we should accept Proclus'
('where', 'whither') , with Burnet and others.
b 4 . . . : 'for whichever o f the charioteers it has not been trained well'. We
should expect ; for other similar examples o f its omission in Plato, see de Vries.
c 2 'the things outside the heavens': i.e.as becomes clear from c 3 ff.the Forms, in the
technical Platonic sense (cf. note on 237 d 6), those strange immaterial entities which are the
primary objects o f definitions, and o f which the things i n the world which share their names
are only fleeting and imperfect images or copies. (For a clear account o f some o f Plato's
thinking about Forms, see especially Annas, 190 ff.)
c 3-4 'by any earthly poet*: no 'earthly poet' has o f course even heard o f this 'region
above the heavens'. The suggestion is perhaps (a) that any description o f it would require
poetic or imaginative powers, (b) that the description which is about to be given only
inadequately portrays its glory. F o r Socrates' adoption o f the guise o f poet, see 243
e 9-244 a 3 with note, and p . 170 above. But in the event what is 'poetic' about his
description is not so much the language which he uses about the Forms themselves, which is
standard enough, as his account o f their locationliterally speaking, they are not located
anywhereand o f the mode o f the soul's encounter with them.
c 5-6 'especially when speaking about truth': Socrates will be talking about truth because
he will be talking about Formswe fully grasp the truth about something ('truly know i t ' ,
c 8) only when we grasp the relevant F o r m .
c 6-8 'being which really is . . . to which the class of true knowledge relates': physical
things, which we see and touch, are only qualifiedly what they claim to bee.g. because they
are subject to change (see on d 7-e 2); any knowledge we have which relates exclusively to
them is therefore also qualified. The Forms, on the other hand, are immaterial, graspable
only by the mind, each o f them just what it is and never anything else; knowledge which
comes from that source will be knowledge pure and simple. ( is in apposition to #
the charioteer is intellect or mind.)

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C O M M E N T A R Y 247d-248c

C O M M E N T A R Y 248c-249a

d 2 'is concerned to receive': the alternative reading &v gives the somewhat limp
sense 'which is going to receive*.
d 6 'justice itself*: a type o f formula regularly used i n references to Forms. O n its origins
see now R . Janko, C Q n.s. 35 (1985), 20-30.
d 7 - e 2 O f knowledge . . . ' : this knowledge ought strictly to be a Form (the Form of
Knowledge), like the other items in the list, rather than the knowledge referred to in c 8 and
d 1, i.e. the knowledge possessed by the knowing mindwhich will be a particular,
imitating' or 'sharing i n ' the F o r m , not the F o r m itself (the soul catches sight of Knowledge,
and so understands what it is to know something in the true sense?). C f . P a r m e n i d e s 133
b ff. The expression in e 1-2, however, seems to tell the other way: 'the knowledge which is
in that which really is' would be a slightly odd description o f the F o r m ; better 'the knowledge
that resides in (sc. and so comes from) what really is (i.e. the Forms)'? - ' n o t that know
ledge to which coming into being attaches, or that which seems () to be different. . .':
i.e. knowledge o f physical things, which change ('come to be' something else), and which
exhibit what we label as the same features (cf. 250 e 3) in confusingly different ways. What
counts as beautiful, for example, under one set o f circumstances, will not count as such
under another: cf. Symposium
210 e-211 a; and Annas 203 ff. - ' e a c h different one of the
things we now say are': 'we' here are ordinary, non-Platonic mortals, who recognise the
existence only o f physical things, not o f Forms, 'what really i s ' , ( is predicate after
, and follows the case o f 'which we call beings/existents'; has been attracted
into the case o f an unexpressed antecedent , governed by .) - 'and which is really
knowledge': qualifies both ovand .
e 4 - 6 . Already in Homer the horses o f the gods are distinguished from those of men by
having 'ambrosial' fodder thrown to them ( I l i a d 5. 368-9); now they can have ambrosia
itself, and nectar, since their charioteers have no need o f them.
248 a 6 ff. C f . R e p u b l i c 505 d-e: 'every soul pursues [the good] and does everything for
the sake of this, divining that it is something, but finding itself in perplexity, and lacking the
capacity to grasp adequately what it is . . . ' What we pursue is what is really good, not what
merely appears so ( t a d o k o u n t a a g a t h a ) , but unless we possess the requisite rational capacity
unless, in the language o f the P h a e d r u s , our charioteers are fully competent (b 2), we shall
miss the mark and lead unsatisfactory lives.
b 4 'without achieving*: ateles again (see on 245 a 7-8).
b 5 'what only appears to nourish them*: or, more precisely, what they imagine ( d o x a z e i n )
nourishes them*: t r o p h e d o x a s t e . C f . R e p u b l i c 583 b ff. But doxastos
also suggests d o x a in
the sense o f 'opinion* or 'conjecture': they have to make do with mere conjecture, instead of
knowledge, about where value lies.
b 5 - c 2. True fulfilment as the life o f the mind, which lifts one above the concerns of the
physical world: cf. especially R e p u b l i c I X , P h a e d o , P h i l e b u s . The present context explains
or purports to explainwhy most people in fact notably fail to show any interest in such a
life, - ' t h e plain o f truth': suggesting Homer's 'Elysian plain' (see note on 243 a 5-6).
- ' T h e cause . . . is that . . . ' : supply (as antecedent of ) , after the relative
clause.
180

c 2 'Necessity': A d r a s t e i a . See A d a m ' s note on R e p u b l i c 451 a.

c 4 'the next circuit': cf. 247 d 5,248 e 5-6.
c 6 'through some mischance': i.e. as a result o f colliding with other souls, and damaging
its wings? C f . 250 a for a corresponding misfortune in life.
c 7 'forgetfulness and Incompetence': forgetfulness, o f its true goals; for 'incompetence',
k a k i a , see b 2but here the word may also carry moral connotations ( k a k i a is one o f the
regular terms for 'vice').
d 1 'at its first birth' (or 'coming into being', g e n e s i s ) : as it may at its second (249 b).
d 3 ff. 'a lover of wisdom': i.e. p h i l o - s o p h o s , 'philosopher' (cf. 278 d 3-4). - ' d e v o t e d to
the Muses': m o u s i k o s . C f . 243 a 6; but the crucial passage is 258 e ff., which shows us how
Socrates proposes to understand what it is to be m o u s i k o s t o engage in dialectic. In other
words, the m o u s i k o s i n the proper sense i s the philosopher, just as the lover o f beauty and
the lover himself will turn out to be. Behind the ranking o f the eight lower types o f life,
several principles seem to be at work. Last position is assured for the tvrant, as the lowest
form o f human life (argue d at length in R e p u b l i c I X ) . Sophists and demagogues are experts at
pretending to wisdom, but in fact possess no knowledge o f anything (see especially S o p h i s t
267 a ff.); i f last place were not already taken, they would be candidates for it. (On what is
meant by a 'sophist', see note on 257 d 8 below.) Craftsmen ( A p o l o g y 22 c-d) and farmers
( P h a e d r u s 276 b) do possess knowledge, but hardly o f a kind which presupposes much o f
a grasp o f true reality. A t the other end o f the list, the order philosopher-'lawful king*politician seems to reflect the kind o f ranking o f types o f political rule eiven in the
Statesman.
Best o f all is the direct rule o f knowledge, embodied in the ideal statesman (cf.
G o r g i a s 521 d ff., R e p u b l i c ) ; next, failing that, comes rule by an individual on the basis of
laws, which are 'written copies o f the truth' (Statesman
300 c); then the remaining types o f
constitution. The p o l i t i k o i o f the present passagethose who 'devote themselves to the
affairs o f state*are perhaps those who take part in the running o f these inferior types
(tyranny, o f course, excepted). The proper function o f the statesman, Plato holds, is to
provide for the moral education o f the citizens, and that depends on insight; the relative
placing of lawful king and politician reflects the degrees o f insight which they are able to
bring to the tasklow enough, in the case o f the 'politician*, i f he is to be paired with the
householder and businessman (for Plato's view o f the latter, see Statesman
289 e-290 a).
After the care o f the soul (moral education) comes the care o f the body, hence the trainer and
the doctor; then finally the seer and the poet, who although possessing no knowledge
themselves have been claimed to produce real benefits for mankind (244 a 6 ff.), and must
therefore, here at least, be placed higher than the humdrum craftsman and farmer.
t

d 4-5 'or someone fit for generalship and ruling': widening the class; there are people with
a real capacity to lead in war and peace, who are not kings?
e 1-2 'some other l i f e . . . ' : e.g. that o f painter (cf. R e p u b l i c X ) .
e 3. The tyrant's life is the only one not paired with any other: he is in a class o f his own.
249 a 2 'the man who has lived the philosophical life' (or 'philosophised', p h i l o s o p h i c
s a n t o s ) without guile or who has united his love for his boy with philosophy': 'these are not
two different persons, any more than the p h i l o k a l o s [lover o f beauty], m o u s i k o s and
181

C O M M E N T A R Y 249a-d

C O M M E N T A R Y 249d-250d

e r o t i k o s were different from the p h i l o s o p h o s at 248 d 2. But that this is the case we shall not
understand until later in the myth* (Hackforth). W e can then attach a clear meaning to
without guile': philosophy means conversation, and the true philosopher's conversation will
be without ulterior motive (cf. Sinaiko, 81, quoted by de Vries).
a 5 ff. For other versions o f the theme o f the judgement o f the dead see G o r g i a s , Phaedo
and R e p u b l i c X ; see also Timaeus
42 b - d , and L a m 904 c ff., where the mythical
framework has largely been removed.
a 7 - b 1 'others are lifted up . . . into some region of the heavens . . ' : cf. 256 d 5-e 2,
with note.
b 2 'the allotment and choice': cf. R e p u b l i c 617 d ff. (the souls o f the dead draw lots for
the order in which they choose).
b 3-5 'a human soul may p a s s . . . ' : for an explanation o f this idea, see Phaedo
81 e-82 b.
b 7 'what is said universally': literally '(something) which is said in accordance with/in
relation to eidos*eidos
in the sense o f 'class' (cf. on 238 a 3), perhaps, rather thah 'Form';
or else both.
c 1-2 'and this is a recollection . . . ' : for the 'doctrine' o f recollection, see M e n o 80 d ff.,
Phaedo
72 e ff. The P h a e d r u s here offers what looks like a shorthand version of the account
In :he P h a e d o : we perceive many things, which through reasoning or calculation ( l o g i s m o s )
we bring together into a unity, i.e. as belonging to the same class or type; arid this process (of
bringing the many together into one), whenever it occurs, is a matter o f recollecting or b e i n g
r e m i n d e d (by the things perceived) o f the things which our soul once saw, i.e. the Forms.
According to the P h a e d o , there accompanies this process a realisation that what it enables us
to grasp, whether clearly or indistinctly, is different from the many things from which we
started, which always 'fall short' o f it (the things we see which are equal, for example, always
fall short o f true equality). See especially Gallop's commentary on the Phaedo
(Oxford
1975} 113 ff. The theory o f recollection is Plato's way o f explaining how it is that we can
. :CLJi;!y be acquainted with objects, or truths ( M e n o ) , which are not given to us in ordinary
experience. It now becomes one o f the chief building blocks in Socrates' account of love
(249 d 4 ff.).
d 2 'as disturbed': i.e. crazy, off his head; no normal person would behave as the philo
sopher does, in neglecting ordinary concerns. But he is not crazy, merely possessed
( e n t h o u s i a z d n ) , which is a recognised and perfectly respectable part o f human experience
all the more so, one might add, in his case, where instead o f involving the suspension of
rationality, which is the mark o f humanity (b 5-6), 'possession' actually increases it (see
pp. i69-70 above). People don't dismiss seers and poets as simply crazy; still less should they
v/iite off the philosopher in these terms. The philosopher is not mad. Love, however, the
invo jlse which first causes us to seek union with a partner, and so begin our philosophical
development, i s a kind of madness, as Socrates now explains.
;

249 d 4 - 2 5 7 a 2: the blessings of the madness of love.

Socrates now has all the materials he needs for his account o f the workings of true love: a
pi^ce in which Plato unleashes his full capacities for imaginative writing. (But as de Vries
182

says, 'Plato holds himself ironically aloof even in his highest flights' (192). The comment is
made with reference to a specific passage, but also has a general application.)
249 d 4 ff. SeGpo (d 4) looks forward to e 1 . . . ( d 5): internal or cognate
accusative after = in d 8 - e 1. 'true beauty': i.e. the F o r m
of Beauty.
e 2 'for the man who is subject to it and shares in i t ' : literally 'both for the one who has it
and for the one who shares in i t ' . Hackforth takes the second phrase as referring to the
beloved (cf. 255 d); I take it as explaining the first, in the light o f e 3 'when he partakes in this
madness ( m e t e c h e i n = k o i n b n e i n ) .
250 a 3 'who fall to earth and have the misfortune to .*: taking (but not
in a 2 or 4) as yet another gnomic aorist; alternatively 'who fell to earth and h a d . . . ' O n
the dangers o f falling into the wrong company, even for the best individuals, see R e p u b l i c
490 eff.
a 7 ' : <> , proposed by Hirschig, would be the common
idiom; but see de Vries. The sense is in any case not in doubt.
b 1-3 'the earthly likenesses of justice and self-control': i.e. particular examples o f justice
and self-control, which 'imitate', are copies or images ( e i k o n e s , b 4) of, the Forms
corresponding to them. - 'the other things which are o f value to souls': see on d 6.
b 6 'a bless& sight before them': literally ' a blessed sight and vision' ( t h e a ) .
b 7 'ourselves following with Zeus': followers o f Zeus are later identified as philosophers
(252 e); 'ourselves* means either ' m y s e l f (regular plural for singular), i.e. Socratesthough
Hackforth, after Hermias, sees Plato as alluding to himself; or philosophers as a class; or
else Socrates and the boy he is addressing, whom he at least hopes to persuade to take the
same path as himself. ( A further, i f remote, possibility: since we have not yet reached 252 e,
might Socrates just be paying the boy a compliment: ' y o u , o f course, like me, were in the
first rank'?)
b 8 - c 1 'what it is right to call most blessed o f mysteries': alternatively, perhaps, 'what it
is permitted ( t h e m i s ) to call most blessed o f mysteries (sc. even i f we are not permitted to
reveal its innermost secrets). C f . Dodds on G o r g i a s 505 c 10.
c 3 'whole, simple': the F o r m o f Justice, e.g., will include all the parts or aspects of justice
(unlike particular just actions or individuals, which are only partial realisations o f it); and
the name 'justice' will apply to it without qualification (cf. notes on 247 c 6-8, d 7 - e 2).
c 4-6 'pure ourselves and not entombed ( a s e m a n t o i ) in this thing which we . . . call body
( s o m a ) * : the body is (a) a tomb for the soul (soma/sema:
for the origins of this idea, see
Dodds on G o r g i a s 493 a 2-3), (b) something o f which the soul can be cleansed, as in the
ritual purification o f the initiate. Similarly religious language is used in Socrates' account o f
loveor rather the account he claims was given to him by Diotima, priestess or m a n t i s o f
Mantineain the
Symposium.
c 7-8 ' L e t this . . . ' : perhaps the most direct indication yet o f Socrates' own status (i.e. as
'initiate' and philosopher). C f . Phaedo
76 b.
d 1. ov is presumably to be taken with ' . (The alternative reading , 'going
along with them', is implausible, since Forms do not move; though it might be taken in a
metaphorical sense.)
183

C O M M E N T A R Y 250d-251c

C O M M E N T A R Y 251c-252b

d 4 wisdom': p h r o n e s i s , the term which Aristotle later uses specifically to denote practical
wisdom as opposed to theoretical ( s o p h i a ) ; p h r o n e s i s is the wisdom that enables one to
organise one's life successfully.
d 5-6 'some such clear image of i t s e l f : i.e. as clear as the 'images' which beauty provides,
'image' here is e i d o l o n , apparently used in the same sense as e i k b n i n b 4 (cf. also 'likeness',
h o m o i b m a , i n b 3).
d 6 'the other objects of love': the things mentioned in b 1-2, 'justice and self-control and
the other things which are o f value to souls', the things which are the proper objects of love
or desire, because they contain true value. 'The other things' will be the remaining virtues,
over and above wisdom, justice and self-control, together with the good, which'we realise
primarily through the acquisition o f the virtues (cf. 241 c 4-6). It is just the absence of 'clear
images' o f justice and the rest which makes necessary the large-scale programmes for
political and moral reform envisaged in the R e p u b l i c and the L a w s , and indeed the philo
sophical quest, whose end is the achievement o f the knowledge required for & successful life.
e 3 'its namesake here': i.e. what passes for beauty here, and derives its name from the
Form.
e 4-5 'does his best ('tries', e p i c h e i r e i ) to go ( b a i n e i n ) on four feet ('like a four-footed
creature*)': alternatively, with de Vries and L S J (s.v. . II. 1), 'tries to mount [of the
male, in a sexual sense] like an animal*. The real solution, however, is probably to regard
as combining both meanings, with the sexual allusion brought out into the open by the
next verb ( p a i d o s p o r e i n , 'father offspring*).
e 5 'excess*: h u b r i s again (see on 238 a 2).
251 a 1 'contrary to nature': because it is the pleasure o f an animal, not a man.
a 2-3 *a godlike face or some form of body . . ' : a man may discover a good likeness of
beauty either in a face, or i n a whole b o d y ' s o m e f o r m ( i d e a ) o f body', because physical
beauty will come in different shapes and sizes, unlike the original Beauty (cf. note on 247
d 7 - e 2; and for i d e a in this sense, note on 238 a 3). A n alternative is to take i d e a in the sense
of v i s i b l e form (see Sir David Ross, P l a t o ' s T h e o r y o f Ideas
(Oxford 1951), 13 ff.); but
'some bodily form* is likely to have the same implications.
a 6 'to a statue of a god*: the Greek has 'to a statue and to a god*not so much a hendiadys as a more accurate description o f the religious act?
a 7 olov ex : 'a change comes over h i m . . ., the sort o f thing which comes
from/follows shuddering*i.e. the sort o f thing which usually follows a fit of shuddering or
'cold fit* (Thompson). (Cf. 258 e 6-7 .)
b 1-2 'the reception of the effluence o f beauty': for the idea o f 'effluences', see M e n o
76 c - d , where it forms part o f a general theory o f vision attributed to Empedocles (effluences
from the object make their way through pores in the eye). But it also appears, in a more
complex form, as part o f Plato's own developed account o f vision in the Timaeus
(45 b ff.,
67cff.).
b 7 'for formerly the whole o f it was winged': the whole o f it, not just the rational part,
once floated free.
c 5 'and tickles' ( g a r g a l i z e t a i ) : something o f a comic touch (cf. Symposium
189 a)? But
184

there is already, perhaps, an element o f comedy in the analogy itselfeven (tnough this
would be a radical suggestion) i n the whole elaborate description to which it belongs; for a
parallel o f a sort, see the detailed physiological account o f the origins o f human sexuality
conjured up by Aristophanes in the Symposium.
A t the very least, there is a degree o f
movement away from the high-flown language o f the immediately preceding parts o f the
speech.
c 6-7. M o r e etymological play (which can, admittedly, occur even in otherwise serious
contexts: cf. e.g. P h i l e b u s 17 d 5-6).
c 8. Most editors suspect ; it can hardly be kept in the text, on syntactical grounds
alone.
252 a 6. , sc. .
b 1 'its greatest sufferings': cf. 'the greatest maladies and sufferings' at 244 d 5-6. A
momentary echo o f the original comparison between love and the other forms o f madness?
b 2 'the one to whom my speech is addressed': in case we might have forgotten, just as
Socrates almost had.
b 2-4. F o r numerous other examples o f the same idea, that gods and men call things by
different names, see West o n Hesiod Theogony
831. A s so often, Plato makes his own use o f
a traditional idea: the gods, who know better than us (like 'the ancients', 244 b 6 ff.), have a
better name for L o v e , one which unlike ours catches his essential nature ( P t e r b s , b 9, a
combination o f eros and p t e r o n , 'wing'). See note on 244 b 6 - d 5. - * I expect you will
laugh': unless Plato actually broke off and said 'dear reader, please laugh', I cannot see how
he could indicate more clearly that he means us to be amused by what follows. It is not o f
course just that he says ' y o u ' l l laugh', since he simultaneously suggests that we really
shouldn't; rather it is that what we are not supposed to laugh at actually is absurd, and
transparently so. The joke is twofold: the invention o f the name, and its discovery in lines
from some 'less well-known' poem known to Homeric experts (like poor Ion). Humour
rarely survives having to be explained; and it would not be necessary to explain it here, were
it not that commentators seem resolutely set against seeing it.
b 5 'less well-known' ( a p o t h e t o s ) : or 'unpublished' (Hackforth), or 'secret* (?). Hardly
anyone doubts that the lines are at least in part Plato's own.
b 6 'quite outrageous': or 'quite excessive', h u b r i s t i k o n . The 'outrageousness' o f the
second line i n the Greek perhaps lies particularly in its straining second half (see following
note); its unmetricality consists in the shortening o f before (together with the
lengthening o f the second syllable o f before ': de Vries). The incompetence of
the second lineif we are expected to know that it is invented for the occasiononce again
separates Socrates from actual poets and their business. The translation of the two lines,
which 1 owe to David Hopkins, is in the form o f two 'fourteeners', with two extra syllables in
the first line.
b 9 'since E r o s ' wings lack d o w n ' : the Greek is much less smooth, something like 'because
of a wing-growing necessity'. ( A literal version o f the rest would be simply ' H i m mortals call
winged ( p o t e n o s ) Eros, but immortals P t e r o s . . . )

185

C O M M E N T A R Y 252c253b

C O M M E N T A R Y 253b-e

252 c 3-253 c 6. This passage effects a transition from the description of the state of the
lover tp an account o f his relationship with the beloved. A crucial element in that account
will bd the claim that benefits accrue to both parties (see especially 253 c 4-5), and not just to
the lover, as in the case o f the love described in Socrates' first speech. Each lover will
characteristically behave according to the form o f whichever god it was in whose company he
originally followed (252 c 3 - d 5); and he will naturally choose out as his partner someone
wh0 shares the same nature, sparing no effort to make him resemble his own god (d 5 ff.).
v

252 c 3-7. Zeus orders everything (246 e 5-6); i f his followers share his characteristics
(252 d 1-2), they will be well able to control their response to the burden o f 'the feathery one'
(literally 'the one/who takes his name from his feathers/wings'). Not so the followers of
Ares, god o f war, who will have inherited his pugnaciousness, and behave towards their
loved^ones accordingly^How, we might ask, is pugnaciousness (or still worse, as the Greek
actually puts it, murderousness) compatible with the goodness and wisdom claimed for the
gods as a class at 246 d-e? The answer is that it is not. Plato is merely savouring,
momentarily, an opportunity offered by the machinery he has put together for the story:
how would one expect Ares, and the Ares-type, to behave? (For Plato's real attitude towards
the gods in their traditional roles, see Timaeus
40 d ff., with E u t h y p h r o 6 a-c, and R e p u b l i c
377 e ff.; especially 380 d ff., which on one reading actually rules out the possibility of
differences of any kind between individual gods.)
e 1 'someone like Zeus': d i o s , usually 'divine', 'godlike*, 'superlative' (a poetic word,
frequent in Homer), is here pressed into a different kind o f service by its juxtaposition with
D i o s ('of Zeus*). It has also been argued that there is an allusion to the Dion of Syracuse who
played a pivotal part in Plato's adventures in Sicily as described in L e t t e r V I I ; references
once more in Hackforth and de Vries.
e 3 t o w a r d s philosophy*: or 'towards the love o f wisdom* (cf. 248 d 3 with note). The gods
are wise, and Zeus is the highest o f the gods (246 d ff.); the most god/Zeus-like among us
will therefore be those who search for wisdomeven though wisdom itself may be beyond
our grasp (278 d 3-6).
e 5 'set foot on this (way': 'way' translates e p i i e d e u m a (used also in 253 a 4 and b 6),
'practice' (cf. 233 d 4)j[ 'occupation*, 'business', 'way o f life*. The 'way' or 'practice' in
question must be that o f educating the loved one, which has as its precondition the
rediscovery of the nature o f the god who provides the model (e 7 ff.).
253 a 2 *on the god': i.e.through the medium o f the loved one, in so far as he resembles the
god (this resemblance being the source o f the love which compels the lover).
a 6 'like Bacchants': cf. I o n 534 a 'just as Bacchants draw honey and milk froro the rivers,
when they are possessed'. Hackforth connects 'like Bacchants* rather with what follows: 'the
point is that in both sorts of divine madness the immediate subject o f possession *'infects"
another or others' (100, n. 2). Bui the I o n passage attributes that capacity peculiarly to the
poets, and it seems better to take the phrase just as explaining the metaphor of vn* wing' (the
possession o f the Bacchants, o f course, comes not from Zeus but from Dionysus}
b 1-2. The 'regal' or queenly ( b a s i l i k o s ) Hera is Zeus' consort; her followers wii! perhaps
by implication be associated with the life of the 'lawful k i n g ' , placed after that o! the philo186

sopher in 248 d (or else they will represent i d e a l kingship, the philosopher in his political
role: cf. notes on 248 d 3 ff., 247 a 6).
b 3. W h o are 'those who belong to A p o l l o ' ? There appear to be two possibilities. A p o l l o is
associated (among other things) with prophecyas at 265 band with m o u s i k e , i.e.,
traditionally, music and poetry. His followers will be either those who choose the life of the
seer or poet, or, as I prefer, those who choose the mousikos
b i o s o f 248 d 3, the life o f true
devotion to the Museswhich will turn out to be the philosophical life itself (but under a
different description: the philosopher as artist?): cf. note on 248 d 3 ff., referring to 258
e ff.; add to that passage Phaedo
60 c ff., where Socrates describes philosophy as 'greatest
m o u s i k e \ in the service o f A p o l l o .
b 7 'pattern': or 'type' ( i d e a ) .
b 7-8 'without showing jealousy . . .*: 'a rejoinder to 239 a 7 [ff.] . . . a n e l e u t h e r b i
['mean' in mv translation, literally 'unfree'] echoes 243 c 8' (de Vries).
c 3 'its issue': . This reading has far stronger M S S support than , which is
preferred by other editors, has the advantage that it ties in closely with the con
ditional clause which follows (itself restored by the editors: for the variations in the
tradition, see de Vries), which ('their initiation') hardly does. In addition, the idea o f
initiation was last heard o f several pages ago (250 b), and in a different context; its isolated
resurgence here would be somewhat sudden and unexpected. With , the point will be
that the 'ending* or consummation o f the relationship (cf. 264 b 1-2, with note) is not to be
of the kind which lovers would normally be eager for; what the true lover 'achieves*
(, the same verb, as de Vries points out, which Lysias used euphemistically o f
lovers in his speech: 234 a 3) is something quite different, his own and his boy's improve
ment. O n the other hand (a) the larger part of the same point would be made with ;
(b) 1 can find no precise prose parallel for in the required sense (264 b 1 is a special
case, in that it involves a pun); (c) would naturally go with . . . (at least
without the comma after ), in which case it would have a differentand quite
inappropriatesense; and (d) it may be rash to go against a consensus among other editors.
c 7 'tale': m u t h o s .
c 8 'forms': e i d e , e i d o s , also used o f the 'parts* of the soul in R e p u b l i c IV (see note on
237 d 6). Contrast eidos in d 4, 'erect i n J o r m \ i.e. to look at (cf. note on 251 a 2-3).
d 6 'when joined with restraint and a sense of shame': our desire for honour can get out of
hand and is not always under the control of reason (hence the 'timocratic' state and
individual described in R e p u b l i c VIII; cf. also on 256 b 7 - c 2 below). That, however, is not
the natural state o f our good horsewhich is more than can be said for the other.
e S 'the light of his love' ( o m m a e r d t i k o n ) : or 'the person o f the beloved' (Hackforth), or
his face, or his eye ('it is the erotic power o f the eye which is visualized here*, de Vries). The
first, second and third meanings o f o m m a are perhaps found only in poetry; but there is in
any case a certain poetic feel about the phrase as a whole. A reference to light is prepared for
by 250 b 5-6 and d I, a context to which Socrates implicitly refers at 254 b 3 ff., i f not here.
But it may be that we should settle for some combination of the meanings listed.
e 5-6 'warming the whole soul through the medium of perception': cf. 251 a 7 ff.
187

COMMENTARY

254a-255e

C O M M E N T A R Y 256a-e

254 a 3 ff. Even in the soul o f the ideal lover, the bad horse represents a powerful force,
which must be controlled i f the soul's wings are to continue to grow. F o r a longer description
of, and argument for, the alliance o f charioteer and good horse (a 5 ff.), see R e p u b l i c
439 e f f .
b 4 face' ( o p s i s ) : cf. 240 d 6 (or else 'sight', 'appearance': 'the sight o f him, flashing
there'). The flashing ( a s t r a p t e i n ) is as o f lightning ( a s t r a p e ) .
d 3. after is bracketed or omitted by almost a l l editors, and is syntactically
impossible in the sentence as we have it.
e 1-2 'as he falls back as i f from a h u s p l e x ' i i.e. some sort o f mechanical.contrivance; see
the first three meanings listed in L S J s.v. : (1) (part of) a mechanical snare; (2) a
contraption which works an automaton; (3) a starting-barrier (in a race). The third sense
initially looks the most promising, but presumably no charioteer worth his salt 'falls back'
from the starting-gate; and a comparison between the charioteer and a horse ('like a racer
recoiling from the starting-rope', Hackforth) seems inappropriate, despite the image in
Ibycus' poem (see note on 242 c 8 - d 1). (De Vries says 'the rider throws himself back to get
his horse under full control'; but the 'same thing' is supposed to happen to the charioteer as
at b 8, where he certainly falls back i n v o l u n t a r i l y . )
255 a 7 : so-called 'apodotic' 8(Denniston 177 ff.). - ' b y his age*: i.e. being young, he
is still open to improving influences?
c 1-2 'the spring(s) of that stream which Zeus . . . named " d e s i r e " ' : cf. 251 c 6-7, with
252 b 1 - c 1. Ganymede, a male equivalent o f Oreithuia (229 b 5), was carried off because of
his beauty to be Zeus* wine-pourer; his father Tros was recompensed by the gift of
marvellous horses ( I l i a d 20. 232-5, 5. 265-7). (: masculine, by attraction to the gender of
the predicate .).
4

c 7 'setting him all of a flutter': a n a p t e r o b , which seems to be used almost exclusively in a

metaphorical sense ('set on the wing, put on the tiptoe o f expectation*, L S J ) , neatly prepares
for the momentary reintroduction o f the motif o f the soul's wings (d 1-2), this time in
relation to the loved one.
d 4 'nor can he even say what it i s ' : explained by e 1-2 (he even calls it by the wrong
name)?
d 8 - e 2 'because his return of love is a reflection o f love, though he calls what he h a s . . .
friendly affection rather than love': more literally 'possessing counter-love (Hackforth's
rendering o f Plato's invented term a n t e r b s ) as a reflection ( e i d o l o n ) o f love; but he calls
i t . . A boy's relationship to his lover would normally be describable as 'friendly affection'
(or 'friendship', p h i l i a ) rather than love ( e r o s ) , because eros implies the desire for sexual
satisfaction, which only the lover, not the boy, would be expected to get: cf. note on 230 e 6.
But on Socrates' new account, the boy's feelings are similar to the lover's (though weaker,
e 3: the desire has further to travel?), and are directed towards the same object, i.e. his own
beauty; he too, then, can be said to be ' i n love'.
e 4 'soon afterwards he does just that': i.e. lies down with himjust that, at least so far.
e 6 : the indicative given by most o f the M S S is indefensible, and Bekker's
(deliberative subjunctive) is the 'easy and obvious correction', as de Vries says.
188

256 a 6 'with a reasoned sense of shame': two nouns in the Greek; the charioteer's
reasoning is supported by the good horse's sense o f shame ( a i d b s ) .
b 2-3 'that part through which . . . that p a r t . . . ' : 'part' is supplied by the translation in
both cases, - ' e v i l attempted to enter the soul' (conative imperfect); alternatively 'evil
entered the soul' (literally 'evil o f soul attempted to enter/entered'). There is not much to
choose between the two versions, since i f it enteredwith the disturbances created by the
second horseit is certainly no longer present, 'evil* renders k a k i a (cf. note on 248 b 7);
'goodness' is a r e t e (b 3; so also 'virtue* in 256 e 6). Socrates here adopts a conception o f
a r e t e diametrically opposed to Lysias': for Socrates, it consists primarily in the successful
suppression o f the desire for sexual gratification; on Lysias' account, sexual indulgence was
not only compatible with a r e t e , but even its natural reward (232 d 4-5).
b 4-5 'the first of their three submissions': cf. 249 a 3-5. The struggle with our unruly
horse is 'truly O l y m p i c ' (a) in that it exceeds even competition in the games at Olympia in
importance; and perhaps also (b) because the victors will have shown themselves true
followers o f Olympian Zeus, who provides the model for the philosophical life.
b 5-7. The claim which Socrates originally set out to refute was that favours should be
granted to non-lover rather than to lover, because the lover was mad, while the non-lover
was sane (244 a 3-5). H e now announces, i n suitably rounded form, that the task is
complete: there is no greater good than the one which the philosophical lover and his partner
achieve, in virtue o f their love (cf. 245 b 7 - c 1).
b 7 - e 2. L o v e also brings benefits to lovers o f a different kind: those who live a nonphilosophical and (therefore) coarser kind o f life, one devoted to the pursuit o f honour
( p h i l o t i m o s \ . Pairs who belong to this type sometimes give in to lust, but only sparingly, and
they remain friendsthough not as firmly as the first typeeven when their love has passed.
Though they are not winged after death, they have undergone the first stages o f wing-growth
(see on d 4), and acquire privileges accordingly.
Lovers o f the ideal kind are liable to be in short supply, so that i f the argument relied on
the blessings accruing to them, it would turn out to be somewhat hollow (in all the dialogue!*,
only one actual example is claimed to existi.e. Socrates himself: see Alcibiades' speech in
the latter part o f the S y m p o s i u m ) . Lovers o f this second kind (the p h i l o t i m o i ) , on the other
hand, are a more realistic possibility. They represent, in part, Plato's view o f the better kind
among actual lovers. But the p h i l o t i m o s also represents one o f the three main psychological
types recognised in R e p u b l i c 580 d ff., along with the p h i l o s o p h o s , the lover o f wisdom, and
the p h i l o k e r d e s , the lover o f gain ('gain' here standing for all the objects o f appetite, on the
grounds that material wealth is the main precondition o f our achieving them). The principle
of the division, obviously enough, is that in each type a different part of the soul dominates:
the reasoning part i n the p h i l o s o p h o s , the 'spirited* part in the p h i l o t i m o s , and the
appetitive part in the p h i l o k e r d e s . Here in the P h a e d r u s , Socrates has dealt both with the
love which belongs to the first type, and with that belonging to the third (the latter in his first
speech, supported by parts o f the second, especially 250 e 1 -251 a 1); he now completes the
account with a description o f love as found in the second type. A m o n g them, perhaps, will
be the followers o f Ares (252 c 4-7), and representatives o f the second (? and third: cf.
Symposium
191 e 6 - 1 9 2 a 7) kinds o f life in 248 d.
189

C O M M E N T A R Y 256c-e

COMMENTARY 256d-257b

c 1-5 * &v: best taken, as de Vries says, as a single particle; with the further addition of
( suppose'), it underlines the rarity, and perhaps also the undesirability, of the
occurrence being described, (active, with in a concrete sense: so Verdenius) and
in c 4-5 will then be gnomic aorists. (Variation between dual and plural is almost
endemic in the present context.)
c 6-7 'because what they are doing was not approved by the whole m i n d ' : it was, after all,
chosen only by their 'licentious* horses.
c 7 - d 1. This perhaps suggests, though it does not strictly imply, that the ideal lovers too
will 'pass beyond love*. In Socrates* account o f love in the Symposium,
there is talk of the
beauty o f souls (210 b - c ) ; in the P h a e d r u s , the lover is portrayed as being aroused essentially
by the physical beauty o f the beloved, and that will inevitably fade. (On the other hand, the
lover's choice is also affected by the qualities o f the boy's mind: 252 d ff.) But being philo
sophical souls, the ideal lovers will *iave a continuing basis for friendship, whereas the
p h i l o t i m o i depend merely on pledges given and received (d 1-3). The physical aspect of
loveeven in the case o f the ideal pair, who touch, kiss and embrace, 255 e 3-4is in
general much more prominent in the P h a e d r u s than in the Symposium.
W e should not make
too much o f this difference in itself; it may be in large part a consequence o f the fact that the
Symposium
is concerned with charting the progress o f the lover towards wider horizonsthe
vision of beauty itselfwhile the P h a e d r u s , having started there, has moved back to
something more recognisable as love: a passionate relationship between individuals, which as
even the Symposium
admits will include a strong element o f physical attraction. But this
change o f emphasis is by itself significant, in so far as it suggests a warmth and sympathy in
Plato's conception which it is hard (or harder) to detect in the
Symposium.
d 4 'but with the impulse to gain them': i.e. because they glimpsed something higher, in
between their bouts o f negligence?
d 5 - e 2. Even i f we put this passage together with the related passage at 249 a 5 - b 1,
Socrates is singularly vague about the details o f the post-mortem fate o f the p h i l o t i m o i .
What they enjoy seems to be some a d hoc Platonic equivalent o f Elysium, defined by its
opposition to the destination of the damned: in the heavens (249 a 7-8), rather than under
the earth, light ( p h a n o s ) rather than dark. But they also live a c o n s p i c u o u s life ( p h a n o s in
another sense) after death, just as they did before it (cf. 249 a 7 - b 1). (Homer too talks
about 'life*, b i o s , in Elysium: cf. note on 243 a 5-6.) - ' a n d acquire matching plumage,
when they acquire it (i.e. plumage) . . . ' : literally 'and become like-winged ( h o m o p t e r o i ) ,
when they become (winged)'. The idea is reminiscent of, and may be derived from, the
mythical theme o f the metamorphosis of human individuals into animal (or plant) forms
which express some aspect o f their nature or history (e.g. Procne, Alcyone; cf. 258 e ff.).
But that theme in its turn is likely to recall the different idea o f metempsychosis between men
and animals, introduced earlier in the speech; and it so happenswhether or not the result is
intendedthat the clause translated 'when they become' could also be taken to mean vhen
they come into being/are b o r n ' , i.e. into a new body (cf. the use of the noun
genesis,
translated as 'birth*, at 248 d 2). O n this interpretation, the 'prize* offered to the p h i l o t i m o i
will be double-edged; the wings they eventually acquire may not be the wings of the soul, but
wings of a different sort.
190

d 8 : sc. .
256 e 3 - 2 5 7 a 2. So Lysias' thesis is finally refuted. The non-lover may have been
victorious over the ordinary lover (a result which, by implication, still stands), but he loses to
the lover who is divinely inspired, because he can offer benefits only of a mean and
perishable kindthe ones, presumably, which were listed in Lysias* original balance-sheet.
257 a 1. Hackforth curiously suggests (110, n . 1) that 'around the earth', p e r i gen, 'must
be taken as equivalent to, or perhaps rather as a slight variation o f " t o some region of the
heavens" (249 a)'. If that were right, then the non-lover would apparently receive much the
same prize as the p h i l o t i m o i in 256 d 3 ff., which contradicts the logic o f the context. De
Vries more plausibly refers to Phaedo
81 c-e (souls which are weighed down by too close an
association with the body are 'dragged back into the realm o f the visible', and 'roam around
tombs and graves' until their next life).
257 a 3 - b 6: a prayer to L o v e .
a 5-6 'given that it has been forced to use somewhat poetical language because of
Phaedrus': cf. 234 c 6-7, the Greek o f which isat least superficiallyechoed in what
Socrates says here. What Phaedrus demands most o f a speech is excellence of language; and
here Socrates pretends that his resort to the high language o f poetry (cf. 241 e 1-2) has been
in response to that demand. Alternatively, or in addition, the point is that he has been forced
into an emotional defence o f love, poetry being the language o f emotion ( R e p u b l i c 603 b ff.,
Aristotle, R h e t o r i c 1408 b 10 ff.). But he is not a poet; what he has offered is merely the best
he can manage. O n the other hand, i f he cannot express himself adequately, he really does
know something about love (a 7-8; cf. Symposium
177 d).
a 8. Taking away his 'expertise in love', e r b t i k e techne,
or part of it ('maiming* it), would
be the equivalent o f the blinding o f Homer and Stesichorus (243 a 2 ff.).
a 9. For a vivid description o f his hold over at least one beautiful young man, see
Alcibiades' speech in the
Symposium.
b 4. The same Polemarchus is the host in the dramatic setting of the R e p u b l i c , and plays
some part at the beginning o f the discussion. His brother Lysias, who is also present, plays
none.
b 4-6 'as he does n o w ' : Phaedrus* immediate response in b 7 ff. does indeed suggest a
readiness on his part to be weaned away from Lysias and his products. But Socrates could
hardly predict that, since up till now there has not been the slightest sign of anything of the
sort. It is rather that he offers Phaedrus an escape route: after all, i f Phaedrus is not at least
inclining in the direction o f philosophy, then he stands condemned by Socrates' powerful
speech. He at once accepts Socrates' offer, first by appearing to be ready to question Lysias'
stature, and then later by adopting what has been defined as the 'philosophical* stance
towards sensual pleasure (258 e 1-5).
b 6 'love': not 'Love* (as e.g. Hackforth has it), since it is Love who is being addressed,
- ' t a l k ' : in the context, the primary reference must be to 'speeches'; but later the argument
will be in favour o f a different kind o f l o g o i (see especially 276 a).

191

C O M M E N T A R Y 257b-258a

C O M M E N T A R Y 258a-e

257 b 7 - 2 5 9 d 9: transition to a discussion (conversation, d i a l e g e s t h a i ) about speaking and

writing.
One o f the main effects o f this transitional section is to widen the area o f discusssion: not
just speech-writing as defined by Lysias' activity, but speaking and writing o f all kinds.
257 c 1 'for us*: i.e. for himself and Lysias. (Note the ' i f : his conversion evidently still has
a long way to go.)
c 3 ' i f he really does consent': cf. 243 d 5 ff. Phaedrus is still thinking o f speeches and
speaking as a matter o f competition, rather than o f trying to say what is true (cf. 259 e ff.).
A t least, however, he has recognised the superiority o f Socrates* performance (though by
what criteria?).
c 4-5 'my fine (fellow)': the adjective i n the Greek is t h a u m a s i o s , 'amazing', 'marvellous'
(used here, according to L S J , 'with slight irony'), which is probably meant to pick up have
been amazed' ( t h a u m a z e i r i ) in c 2.
c 5 'this very charge': i.e. o f being involved in a very low-grade activity (implied in c 3-4),
as a mere speech-writer (c 6).
c 7 O u t of a concern for his reputation': 'out o f p h i l o t i m i a \ tne noun corresponding to
p h i l o t i m o s in 256 c 1.
d 2-3 'meant what he said': literally 'said what he said (while actually) believing/thinking
(it)*. For this use o f , cf. 258 c 4. , which is preferred by some editors, gives
the far less probable sense 'said what he said as a reproach' (he d i d say it as a reproach; the
question is, as tne sequel shows, whether he reaiiy believed what ne saiabecause politicians
are actually themselves ardent speech-writers).
d 8. For a view on (he sophists from one contemporary politician, see M e n o 90 c ff. (and
for Plato's own attitude towards them, note o n 248 d 3 ff. above). A t least i n the context of
the fifth century, the class in question would have befen represented primarily by people like
Protagoras and Hippias, who claimed to offer an education i n citizenship (see my 'Plato on
the Sophists as Teachers o f Virtue', H i s t o r y o f P o l i t i c a l T h o u g h t 4 (1983), 409 ff.). As
Plato's P r o t a g o r a s confirms, such individuals were not slow to advertise their wares,
whether orally or in writing: the 'Great Speech' put into Protagoras' mouth is probably
based on one of his written works (cf. Guthrie, v o l . I l l , 63-4).
d 9 - e 1. For a long and clear discussion o f the phrase 'pleasant (or'sweet', g l u k u s ) b e n d *
(or 'elbow', a n g k o n ) , and o f the clause h o t i . . . eklethe
(represented by the bracketed words
in the translation), see de Vries. There was dispute about the meaning of the phrase even
among the ancient commentators; but the general sense seems to be something like 'saying
one thing while meaning another'. A s for its origins, we can only guessif, that is, the
e m a n a t i o n given in the text is a gloss, as I take it to be along with many editors. (If we retain
it, what Phaedrus is supposed not to know is the d e r i v a t i o n o f the expression; but that
implies that he is familiar with its use, which seems to be more relevant to the context than its
derivation.) For the difficulties involved, consider the expression 'itchy chin' currently
(December 1984) in fashion among schoolchildren o f a certain age: any outsider is liable to
be* in the dark both about what it means and how it arose.
258 u 1-2. The reading of most M S S , , looks indefensible; is the
'jft.siesi solution (see de Vries).
192

a 5 'and "so-and-so s a i d " ' : or, without Winckelmann's addition, 'and "he said'* ' . -
: cf. the expression ( instances in de Vries).
b 3 'author*: poietes,
'maker' ( p o i e o ) , or 'poet*hence the metaphor o f the theatre.
b 4 O f being recognised as a writer': literally ' o f being worthy o f writing' (cf. L S J s.v.
.3).
b 10 f f. Darius the Persian acquired his legislative authority by becoming king; Lycurgus
and Solon had to rely on their persuasive powers (their 'oratory'). According to L e t t e r V I I
332 b (cf. also L a w s 695 c - d ) , Darius was a paradigm o f what a law-giver should be;
Lycurgus and Solon are singled out at Symposium
209 d (as they probably would have been
by anyone: Lycurgus, as the reputed founder o f the Spartan constitution, and Solon as
father o f Athenian democracy). But here there is a touch o f sarcasm about the treatment o f
these great men o f the past: 'people like that think themselves equal to the g o d s . . . ' .
d 7-11 'So what is the way to write a c c e p t a b l y . . . ? ' But writing implies speakingat least
in Lysias' case, since he writes speeches for performance and use; hence Socrates'
reformulation o f the question at 259 e 1-2 ('we must consider what we proposed for
consideration just now: in what way it is acceptable to make
( l e g e i n ) a n d w r i t e a speech
( l o g o s ) . . . ' ) . - ' a n d anyone else who has so far written anything . . . ' : an important
announcement. If the ensuing discussion begins with Lysias, it ends by being wholly general;
its lessons are to apply to any and every writer, whatever his medium.
e 1-5. Something quite like the basic idea which Phaedrus expresses heresome pleasures
as necessarily involving antecedent pain, others notis found in Socrates' mouth both at
R e p u b l i c 583 c ff. and P h i l e b u s 51 a ff. Hackforth says that 'it has the air of being dragged
in here as a deliberate allusion to the R e p u b l i c passage, and I think we must admit that its
attribution to Phaedrus is a dramatic fault' (115, . 1). For de Vries, on the other hand, it is
'a very conscious play . . . [Phaedrus'] p h i l o l o g i a is far from philosophical; but, as it now is
about to be satisfied once more, and unexpectedly, he borrows words from a level that is far
above him . . . The background and the conditions o f true p h i l o l o g i a have been shown.
Now, after a critical survey, its possibility and desirability is to be demonstrated. B y making
Phaedrus utter these words, in such a way, at this very point, Plato holds h i n w l f ironically
aloof even in his highest flights'(192. with a suggested parallel, and references: cf. pp. 182-3_
above). De Vries* case is subtle and well argued. I believe, however, that the passage can be
explained better and more simply without reference to either R e p u b l i c or P h i l e b u s (where
one o f the main points is to question whether 'pleasures' associated with pains are really
pleasures at allsomething o f which there is no hint in what Phaedrus says here). The
obvious reference in 'those (pleasures) which have to be preceded by pain' is to the pleasures
of sex, the painful preliminaries to which have been described at length. Phaedrus takes the
opportunity to declare his own position i n relation to these (see note on 257 b 4-6): Jie
pleasures he lives for are the ones Socrates has just proposed, not the 'slavish* pleasures of
the body (cf. 243 c 7-8), wherehe clearly savours the paradoxOne has to be pained first
to be pleased at all*. (The i n e 3 is by attraction to the case o f the antecedent , for
, cognate accusative after : 'those pleasures which one must be pained first or not
even enjoy*.) The off-hand extension o f the idea to 'nearly all* bodily pleasures underlines
193

C O M M E N T A R Y 258e-259d

COMMENTARY 259e-260e

his newly-adopted 'philosophical* pose, - ' w h i c h is why indeed they are called slavish*:
because only someone thoroughly irrational, like a slave (cf. 259 a 4 - 6 , and e.g. R e p u b l i c
590 c - d , Aristotle, P o l i t i c s 1254 b 16-24), could choose themand/or because it is only the
slave who 'likes* to have pain inflicted on him?
e 6 ff. O n the significance o f the story o f the cicadas, see p . 135 above. Socrates now in
effect explains the connection which was made at 248 d 3 between philosophy and 'music*:
philosophy is the highest-kind o f m o u s i k e (cf. note on 253 b 3), as the province of the two
eldest Muses (259 d 3-7).
The playfulness o f the passage goes without saying. But I doubt de Vries's suggestion that
the comparison with the garrulous cicadas (cf. L S J s.v. ) makes fun o f Phaedrus,
specifically: why not Socrates too, since Socrates is the one who is proposing that they
should talk? The joke is perhaps rather on the cicadas.
259 b 1 'that gift': we are left in the dark about the precise identity o f this gift until 262
c - d . What it turns out to be is 'the true science o f speaking*; but this has yet to be
introduced, so that for the moment Phaedrus is fobbed o f f with the suggestion merely that if
they talk, they will become dearer to the Muses (259 c 6 ff.: promising, but what actual
b e n e f i t will they get from that?).
b 5 'a man who loves the Muses*: as Phaedrus has shown himself to be, by agreeing to
'converse with' Socrates?
b 6-7 . . . : is partitive genitive'men of/belonging to those (who
lived)before...'.
c 1 'they neglected to eat and d r i n k ' : the reference in L S J to Aristophanes, C l o u d s 1360
seems to be based on a misunderstanding o f that passage. Aristotle says that the cicada alone
of all animals has no mouth, and feeds exclusively on dew, through a 'tongue-like' part
( H i s t o r i a a n i m a l i u m 532 b 10-13). H a d Plato heard something about this?
c 6 ff. The name Terpsichore means 'she who delights in the dance'; Erato, of course,
suggests e r o s ; Calliope is 'she o f the beautiful voice' (cf. d 7), Ourania 'the heavenly one*.
There can be little doubt that we are intended to recall Hesiod's full list o f the nine Muses'
names in the Theogony
(77 ff.). Calliope there too is the eldest and best: 'for she attends on
revered kings; whoever among . . . kings is honoured by the daughters o f Z e u s . . ., on his
tongue they pour sweet dew, and honeyed words flow from his mouth'. But now for 'king'
read 'philosopher*.
d 1 Erato: linked, perhaps, with eros in Hesiod's mind too, via the adjective e r a t o s
('lovely', Theogony
65, o f the sound o f the Muses' song).
d 3-4 'Ourania who comes after her* (sc. in age): Ourania is merely next to Calliope in the
Hesiodic list. F o r her prominence here, and her pairing with Calliope, see next note.
d 6 'both the heavens and talk*: because as Socrates* second speech showed, philosophers'
'talk* (what philosophers say) relates intimately to things inor beyondthe heavens.
- 'both divine and human': cf. 246 a 4 - 6 (divine/human accounts o f the soul).
259 e 1 - 2 7 4 b 5: rhetoricas it should be, and as it is.
Throughout this section, speaking and writing are taken together; 'rhetoric' is to be
194

understood as including both (cf. note on 258 d 7-11). In Greek as in English, what is
written, as well as what is actually spoken, can be described as 'said' ( l e g o m e n o n ) : so, e.g., in
259 e 4-5 'things that are going to be said' should be read as 'things that are going to be
written and/or said'.
259 e 1-2 'So we must c o n s i d e r . . .*: cf. 258 d 7-11, with note.
259 e 7 - 2 6 0 a 4. See especially G o r g i a s 452 d ff., where Gorgias himself, doyen of fifthcentury oratory, implies just this claimat least until Socrates shames him into denying it.
260 a 2 ' &v: equivalent to / .
a 5 ' " N o t to be cast a s i d e ' " : quoted from I l i a d 2.361.
c 3-4. In the imagined example Socrates would at least be trying to be helpful; the clever
orator who is about to be described is not (or so it is assumed), (( ]: see de Vries.)
c 7 *a miserable donkey': Hackforth's rendering o f o n o u s k i a s , literally 'donkey's shadow'
(a proverbial expression in its own right: 'a trifle', 'a mere nothing').
c 10. The M S S seems to me preferable to the editors' ' : the bad harvest reaped by
rhetoric is a fact, not just a possibility.
d 3-9 'the science o f speaking': ten t o n l o g o n technen
(more traditionally, 'the a r t of
speaking'), which is precisely equivalent to 'rhetoric' ( r h e t o r i k e * sc. techne)
in c 10. In the
broadest terms, as Plato understands it, a techne
is the capacity to produce the right results
in a given sphere, based on a knowledge o f the relevant principles (but see further on 262
c 1 0 - d 6). The product o f rhetoric is here in effect defined as the persuasion o f an audience,
and its 'principles' as the techniques o f persuasion. It protests against the accusation that it
presupposes ignorance o f the truth (i.e. about the subjects on which it aims to produce
conviction); on the other hand, it does not itself claim to teach knowledge of the truth, which
is something its aspiring practitioners ought to acquire first for themselves. This is essentially
the more respectable side o f rhetoric as presented by Gorgias at G o r g i a s 456 c-457 c:
rhetoric as a purely neutral set o f techniques, which he expects his pupils to put to good use;
if they do not, he is not to blame. (For textual problems in d 6-7, see de Vries; they do not
substantively affect the sense.)
e 2-7. Rhetoric has just claimed to be the only means of 'persuading scientifically'; but
there is evidence that it is not a science at a l l , only a 'knack* or 'routine' ( t r i b e ) . Again we
find a close parallel in the G o r g i a s (462 b ff.): rhetoric is a mere 'knack based on experience'
( e m p e i r i a , e m p e i r i a k a i t r i b e : see P h a e d r u s 270 b 5-6): not a techne,
because it lacks
knowledge about its true subjectsi.e. right and wrong, good and bad. It is like cookery,
which 'just remembers what usually happens, which is the means by which it is able to
provide its pleasures* (501 a-b). (Rhetoric too, according to the G o r g i a s , aims at pleasure,
i.e. at merely pleasing its audience: cf. P h a e d r u s 273 e-274a.)
e 4 'solemnly protesting even before the case comes to court*: d i a m a r t u r e i s t h a i
( d i a m a r t u r i a : 'as Attic law-term, o b s t r u c t i v e p l e a , put forward at the preliminary
investigation to prevent a case from coming to trial', L S J ) .
e 5 'saith the Spartan*: or ' L a c o n i a n ' ( L a k o n ) . The Spartans (a) spoke a different dialect
(Doric) from the Athenians, and (b) were proverbially philistine and 'laconic' (cf. e.g.
Herodotus III. 46). L S J , s.v. , the immediately following word in the Greek ('genuine'
195

C O M M E N T A R Y 261a-d

COMMENTARY 262b-d

in the translation), seem to take 'the Spartan says' just as identifying that word as Doric, but
other evidence for the D o r i c origin o f etumos
is either thin or non-existent. It is better,
perhaps, to look for a connection with (b) above. ' T o put it bluntly*; or 'as the Spartan says,
call a spade a spade*; or ' i f you've nothing to say, say nothinglike the Spartans*? But why
then the poetic word etumos,
which otherwise appears i n P l a t o i f we exclude the pseudoPlatonic A x i o c h u s , 366 b 5only at P h a e d r u s 243 a 8, i n the quotation from Stesichorus,
and 244 a 3, echoing that passage? (Might there then be some connection with that earlier
context?) Perhaps after all L S J are rightsee also L . B r a n d w o o d , A W o r d I n d e x t o P l a t o .
(Leeds 1976): 'denoted as a D o r i c i s m ' . N o n l i q u e t .
261 a 3 - 5 . The G o r g i a s too recognises the possibility o f a reformed rhetoric, united with
philosophy (503 a ff.). - ' P h a e d r u s o f the beautiful offspring' ( k a l l i p a i s ) : cf. 247 a 8 ff.,
and 257 b 2 (de Vries).
a 9 ' i n private ones t o o ' : de Vries refers to G o r g i a s 452 e 1-8 (with Dodds's note; cf. also
453 d ff.). But the point is better understood i n terms o f what follows here in the P h a e d r u s
itself: we've no need to look at public speeches, because we can find examples o f rhetorical
technique i n use even outside them, e.g. i n Zeno's arguments (b 8, d 6-8)even in the
speeches we've just had (262 c 5-7).
b 6. Nestor, as arbitrator between Agamemnon and Achilles, has a voice 'sweeter than
honey' at I l i a d 1.249; o f Odysseus, Helen later says that no one could compete with him as a
speaker (3.223V
b 8 'Palamedes': another epic hero (though not i n Homer), proverbial for his cleverness.
c 1-3. Significantly, the comparisons are made by Phaedrus, not Socrates, who has a
somewhat less exalted view at least o f Gorgias, and o f Thrasymachus (see R e p u b l i c I).
Thrasvmachus appears again at 267 c. Theodorus (of Byzantium, not to be confused with the
mathematician Theodorus o f Cyrene i n the I neaetetus)
at 266 e.
c 5 : emphatic (cf. 229 b 4), bringing out the nature o f the inference (//
).
c 10 ff. If a man is a real expert at 'speaking i n opposition' (i.e. in 'the science of contra
diction', 'antilogic', d 10), then he will be able to argue convincingly on both sides of every
questionan essential feature o f rhetoric as currently understood. This capacity has its
most obvious application in the law-courts or the assembly; but it also has a much wider
application, as the example o f Zeno's arguments shows (d 6-8). O n 'antilogic', with special
reference to the present passage, see G . B . Kerferd, The S o p h i s t i c M o v e m e n t (Cambridge
1981), 62 ff.
d 6 - 8 . The identification o f 'the Eleatic Palamedes' with Zeno o f Elea is as certain as
anything can be. C f . especially P a r m e n i d e s 127 d - 1 2 8 a ('what do you mean', Socrates asks
Zeno, who has been reading from a treatise o f his, 'when you say " i f the things that are are
many, they must be b o t h l i k e a n d u n l i k e . . . " '). O n the general nature and purpose of
Zeno's arguments, see K i r k , Raven and Sen field, ch. I X .
d 1 0 - e 4. So apparently (e 1), i n relation to anything that is said, i f a thing is capable of
being made to appear like something else, the expert will be able to achieve that effect. - T h e
construction in e 3 is (partitive genitive), sc. (=
196

), () () .
262 b 2 'what is the case*: literally 'the (things) that are' ( t a o n t o , cf. a 6), 'things as they
actually are i n the w o r l d ' .
c 1-3. The argument has shown that i f rhetoric is to achieve its ends, it needs to know the
truth o f things; since it spends its time 'hunting down appearances', i.e. discovering what
will appear plausible to an audience (cf. 259 e 7 - 2 6 0 a 4), it is no science. (Clearly true, in a
sense: i f a speaker doesn't know the truth, then he won't know what he's doing, and he will
be liable to having the wool pulled over h i s eyes by somebody else. This latter point is an
important part o f the argument: 261 e 3-4,262 a 5-6, b 7.)
c 5-6 'the ones I made': or, possibly, 'the things I said' (en h o i s e i p o m e n ) .
c 1 0 - d 6. According to both Hackforth and de Vries, 'the two speeches which were given'
means L y s i a s ' p l u s both o f Socrates', taken as one. But there are two problems about this.
(1) U p till now, Socrates' two speeches have been consistently and emphatically separated,
c 5-7 must then be interpreted accordingly (whichever translation we adopt o f en h o i s
e i p o m e n ) : what they are to look at is Lysias' one speech and Socrates' twoso that we
already have a well-defined pair (Socrates') for 'the two speeches' i n d 1 to refer to.
Hackforth and de Vries claim to find support for their interpretation in later passages (263
d 3,265 c 6,265 d 7), but the fact is that a t t h i s p o i n t it would be extremely odd for three to
be referred to, without warning, as two. (2) Socrates says that 'the two speeches were said
having an example, how the man who knows the truth might mislead his hearers . . .*. N o w
the ensuing critique o f Lysias' speech clearly showsif there were any doubtthat Socrates
does not regard h i m as ' a man who knows' (see e.g. 263 d 5-6), although he might describe
him as such ironically (so Hackforth; cf. 271 c). It is Socrates who knows (257 a 7-8). The
example i n question is surely his first speech, which 'misled' its audience (the boy) about
love, and had to be corrected by the second. True, i f 'the two speeches' really meant 'the
three', the example would still be contained in them; but they would also contain an example
of how an i g n o r a n t man can mislead an audience (Lysias). W h y then should Socrates pick
out the one, but not the other?. See now also SzlezAk 34, n . 21.
Socrates says 'the two speeches', not 'my two speeches', because he is again about to
shuffle off responsibility for them (cf. note on 242 a 7 - b 5)or rather for the rhetorical
expertise which they have just been implied as displaying. The true rhetorical expert, the
argument said, will be able to represent one thing as another, on the basis o f knowledge: just
so Socrates used his knowledge about love to represent it, in his first speech, as something
bad, when it is in fact good (242 e 3-4; cf. 263 c 9-12). What he said was true only about one
kind o f love, love as it is ordinarily understood, not about love as it can and should be. Not
my fault, he now tells Phaedrus: blame the gods of the place, or the cicadas, since / don't
possess any 'science o f speaking' (d 2-6).
Socrates' first speech is thus now seen as having some sort o f positive value: still to be
regretted (because misleading), but nevertheless a product o f techne.
(For a techne
as
entailing understanding, and, in the case o f productive t e c h n a i , the ability actually to
produce bad as well as good results in its sphere, see e.g. I o n 531 a ff., H i p p i a s M i n o r 373
c ff., R e p u b l i c 333 e ff.; and Rowe (1984), 149-51.) This change in perspective is mirrored in
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C O M M E N T A R Y 262d-264a

COMMENTARY 264b-265c

the attribution o f his newly-discovered rhetorical expertise first to the local gods, who till
now have appeared as standing wholly on the side o f current or Lysianic rhetoric (see on 242
a 7 - b 5, 241 e 1-7, and on the first section o f the dialogue), but then to the cicadas, who
have already been appropriated for the cause o f philosophy (258 e f f.).
d 7 'only make clear what you're saying': which Socrates proceeds to do by comparing
Lysias' attempt to mislead with his own (262 d 8-264 e 6). A particular fault of Lysias'
speech was that it failed to start with a definition o f the slippery term Move', of the kind
which he gave at the beginning o f his (it may or may not have been a good definition, he says
at 265 d 6-7, but 'the speech was able to say what was at any rate clear and self-consistent
because o f it'); and because it lacked a proper beginning, there was no necessary order to the
rest o f it either.
263 a 3 'things like this* ( ): i.e. 'such as 1 am thinking o f (Verdenius, 283),
' o f the kind that I'm now going to talk about'.
a 5. A n excessively polite reply, under the circumstances; what Socrates has just said is
quite unintelligible by itself. O r does Phaedrus just not like to say that about something
which is supposed to be 'clear to anyone'?
a 6 - b 9. A similar idea appears at Statesman
285 d - 2 8 6 a, (apparently: but see Owen) in
relation to Forms: there are some which have 'clearly perceptible likenesses* corresponding
to them, others which do not (the 'mark* referred to here at b 8?). C f . P h a e d r u s 250 d 4-6,
with note on d 6. The second class are 'finest and greatest', and must certainly include the
Forms o f Justice and the G o o d (cf. a 9 in the present passage). But o f course we hardly
need either the Statesman
or the Forms to understand the main point here: there are some
terms about whose application we are regularly in dispute. (It is worth noticing that there are
no clear implications about the metaphysical status o f items like justice and goodness
anywhere in the P h a e d r u s except in the context o f the myth in Socrates* second speech. The
kinds o f things said about them there may resemble the kinds o f things said about Forms in
the middle dialogues; but since they are now being said in the context o f a m y t h , it is scarcely
safe to assume that Plato is necessarily committed to their literal truthespecially in the light
of his general verdict on the speech in 265 b-c.)
c 1-2. Obviously ironic: a fine achievement, to have got hold o f something that even the
masses are clear about. (If we omit , as de Vries and others propose, the sense remains
the same; but I see no compelling reason for suspecting it.)
c 11. HeindorPs addition o f looks right, pacede
Vries.
d 3 'when beginning my speech*: i.e. my first (see on 262 c 1 0 - d 6, d 7); alternatively, as de
Vries suggests, 'when starting to speak*, with l o g o s ('thing said*) picking up the use of the
v e r b l e g e i n i n c 10.
d 8 'some one definite thing': hen t i t o n o n t b n , 'some one (thing) o f those (things) that
are*.
264 a 5 'on his back': so 'taking it easy*, de Vries; or else ex h u p t i a s itself means
'backwards* (so L S J , s.v. , following some ancient readers o f the P h a e d r u t ) , in which
case it is explained and supported by a n a p a l i n ('in reverse*).
a 8 'my dear*: a flabby rendering o f the Greek p h i / e k e p h a l e ; cf. our 'dear heart \ used in
198

an ironic tone (as now always?).

b 1-2. Some translators either have not noticed the pun, or deliberately suppress it: out of
a sense o f decorum, or because they think Plato above that sort o f thing? It seems innocuous
enough. Alternatively the view is that no levity is to be allowed in a serious discussion. But is
it all in any case quite so straight-faced?
b 6 'as one who knows nothing about i t ' : i.e. as one who is innocent o f any 'science o f
speaking' (262 d 5-6).
c 2-5. De Vries refers to G o r g i a s 503 e-504 a, with Dodds's note on 504 a 1 (a similar
principle applied to all the arts and practical sciences).
c 9 'some say': perhaps indicating that the epigram is made up by Plato himself, perhaps
not (see de Vries).
d 1 'what feature o f i t . . ' : (sc. ); 'its being like what/in what sort of case'
(cf. L S J s.v. II. 1).
e 3. A n epitaph on the speech? (Note Phaedrus' continuing attachment to Lysias'our
speech': cf. note on 257 b 4-6.)
264 e 7-266 c 5: a more complex lesson on method, from Socrates' two speeches
combined.
265 a 4 ' A n d very manfully too': Socrates has done just what a real orator, according to
Phaedrus, should dospeak powerfully on both sides o f the question.
a 9-10 'the one caused by sicknesses of a human sort': i.e. the madness of love as
described in the first speech (see especially 241 a 4).
a 10 'reversal': ('complete change, alteration', LSJ).
b 3 'to A p o l l o . . . to Dionysus': not in so many words; but they were ascribed to gods, ana
which o t h e r gods would these two kinds of inspiration be ascribed to? -, sc.
(other translators take as agreeing with , 'ascribing the inspiration o f the
seer to A p o l l o . . . ' ; but it is, after all, types o f madness
that we are talking about).
b 6-8. O n Plato's general attitude towards his myths, see on 229 c 6 ff., 245 c 2.
c 1-2.1 take as internal accusative after (intransitive, as at 262 d 2: 'we
made play'), implying , which allows . . . " as direct object. C f .
Thompson; Hackforth and de Vries have different explanations.
c 4. Literally 'and 1 may say (sc. you did what you've just described) not unpleasantly for
me to listen to' (, epexegetic infinitive).
c 6 'pass over': m e t a b a i n e i n ; cf. the use of the same verb at 262 a 2. - 'the speech*: that
Socrates should now refer to his two speeches as one is perhaps natural enough, since he has
just been running their contents togetherand is about to treat them, more than a little
disingenuously, as i f all the time they happened to be just a systematic exercise in logical
classification, with the rest as mere playful trimmings (c 8 ff.; in e 3 ff., however, they have
become t w o speeches again). But we should continue to bear in mind that the Greek word
l o g o s has other meanings than 'speech*: cf. e.g. on 263 d 3.
c 9 'two principles of method of the following sort were expressed': the Greek merely says
'two kinds', e i d e , i.e. 'kinds o f thing' (cf. note on 237 d 6)'these certain two kinds having
been said/exprcssed/introduced . . But the supplement is fully justified by what follows.
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C O M M E N T A R Y 265d-266b

C O M M E N T A R Y 265d-266b

('Principle' is similarly supplied i n the translation o f d 8.)

d 1 ' i n a scientific w a y ' : contrasting with 'by chance'. B y happy accident, Socrates used
the right kind o f procedure; now they are to grasp 'scientifically' what that procedure was,
a science or techne
being something which involves working on the basis o f knowledge, and
not just happening to get it right (see 260 d 3 - e 7, with notes).
d 3 ff. The two ' k i n d s ' or principles o f method, 'collection' and 'division', together
constitute a recommended procedure for establishing definitions (the mapping of reality)
which plays a prominent role in three other dialogues, a l l late: Sophist,
Statesman
and
P h i l e b u s . Probably Plato invented it; it is he, rather than Socrates, who is 'a lover of these
divisions and collections' (266 b 3-4). Certainly, he seems to have set great store by it, as a
means o f achieving clarity about 'the things that are'.
'Collection' means bringing together things which are widely scattered in experience but
nevertheless belong to the same genus (d 3-4, with note), ' i n order that one can define and
make clear whatever it is that one wishes to instruct one's audience about' (d 4-5). This does
not mean that collection itself provides the definition (one can hardly claim to have defined
something merely by discovering its genus), but that is a necessary p r e l i m i n a r y to it. 'Just
so', Socrates says, 'with the things said just now about love, about what it is when defined'
(d 5-6). T h e reference must be to his definition o f love i n the first speech (cf. 263 d 1 ff.),
and the implication is that that definition was preceded by a 'collection'. So it was: love was
found to be a kind o f desire, and then more specifically to belong to the category o f 'excess',
that type o f desire which overcomes judgement (237 d 3 ff.). It is the latter which Socrates
seems to settle for i n e 3-4 (cf. note) as the intended genus o f love: 'as just now the two
speeches took the unreasoning aspect o f the mind as one form together . . . ' . 'Division' then
means cutting up the genus again, 'by its natural joints' (e 1-3), until the definiendum is
reached; and Socrates claims that there were two illustrations o f this type o f procedure, one
in each o f his speeches. The first speech 'cut o f f a t least i n retrospectthe left-hand or
suspect part o f 'derangement' ( p a r a n o i a , 266 a'2), and cut that again until it found 'lefthanded' love, while the second took the right-hand part and discovered 'divine* love (265
e3 - 2 6 6 b l ) .
F r o m all this, we get a reasonably clear general picture o f the method being recommended,
although there is a certain feeling o f artificiality about the way in which Socrates* two
speeches are used to illustrate it. In fact, the first speech would provide quite a good example
of the method just by itself, as Socrates comes close to admitting at 265 d 5-7. But the
purpose o f the section is not after all just to introduce a particular kind of dialectical
procedure (cf. 266 c 1); it is also to explain how Socrates was able to 'pass over* from
censuring love to praising it (265 c 5-6). The most recent position adopted on the first speech
was that it showed how the expert can mislead an audience (262 c 1 0 - d 2). It can certainly
still be seen like that. But the result is to leave Socrates, as representative o f the new rhetoric,
dangerously close to appearing to imitate the o l d : not just arguing on both sides of the
question, but in one case deliberately intending to mislead. W h y , however, should someone
interested i n the truth, as he is, want to do thateven
i f he does have the resources to do it?
A supplementary account o f the first speech is thus urgently needed (blaming the place or the
200

nymphs will not be enough). This is what the present section provides, by representing both
speeches together as a single systematic inquiry into the nature o f love. If there are ways in
which they do not fit this redescription (as inevitably there will be, since they were originally
designed to meet the demands o f a different kind o f context), then so much the worse for
them; the message is that they will only stand as serious examples o f 'speaking acceptably* in
so far as they do fit it.
d 3-4 'bringing into one f o r m ' : ' f o r m ' here is i d e a in the sense o f class or genus, o f which
the 'forms' or e i d e o f e 1 are the species. C f . 249 b 6 ff., with notes on 249 b 7 and c 1 - 2 , and
on 238 a 3. - . . . : noun-clause (cf. e 1-3); supply as subject. After
we expect xa(, introducing the second ' k i n d ' ; but the length o f the exposition o f the first then
leads to a change o f construction. The literal sense o f the Greek is '(the two kinds are) (1)
(someone's) perceiving and bringing together . . . ' 'What o f the second kind?' (2) 'Being
able...'
d 5 'whatever it is that one wishes to i n s t r u c t one's audience about': a tacit redefinition o f
the aims o f oratory. Since it is now to be concerned with truth rather than appearances, its
function will no longer be merely to persuade but to teach
(didaskein).
d 6 'whether it (i.e. the definition o f love in the first speech) was right or wrong': both, in
a senseright, as a definition o f love o f one kind (cf. 266 a 4-6), wrong, in so far as it
pretended to be a definition o f love in general.
d 7 'the speech': presumably the first by itself, since the second made no use o f the
definition.
e 1-2 'according to its natural joints': literally 'at joints, where it is its nature (to be cut)'.
e 3-4 'the unreasoning aspect of the m i n d ' : t o a p h r o n tes d i a n o i a s , i.e. mind (or the
conscious self) in its aspect as uncontrolled by reason, a description which fits both the
various kinds o f madness in the second speech, and the kinds o f 'excess' in the first, ( a p h r o n
is normally 'senseless', 'stupid', but here acquires a specialised sense from the context.)
266 a 2 'derangement': p a r a n o i a , substituted quietly for the 'unreason' o f 265 e 3-4. If
gluttons or drunkards can be described as unreasoning, they are hardly in any normal sense
deranged, 'not o f sound m i n d ' , or mad (a 6). But then neither is the lover.
a 4-5 'among the parts': literally ' i n them' (en a u t o i s ) , i.e. the pieces resulting from the
cutting. (The 'search' was hardly as laborious as Socrates here suggests; but otherwise the
description is accurate enough, as is what is said o f the second speech in a 6 - b 1.)
a 5 'left-handed' ( s k a i o s ) : the connotations are 'clumsy', 'awkward', 'stupid*, 'barbaric*.
b 3-4 ' N o w I am m y s e l f . . . ' : cf. P h i l e b u s 16 b .
b 5-6 'has the natural capacity to look to one and to many': taking * (clearly to be
preferred to , which is scarcely intelligible) as masculine singular, agreeing with *
, and with as predicate after it; cf. 252 d 5 ff., and especially e 3, with 250 b 7.
Others take it as neuter plural, agreeing either with or with both iv and (so e.g.
Thompson: 'both a one and a many as they e x i s t i n n a t u r e * ) , which makes good sense but
sf ems a harsher way o f construing the Greek. ' L o o k i n g to' will perhaps include the sense o f
'paying attention to', I regard simply as a variation for , which helps to underline the
fact that t w o processes are involved.
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C O M M E N T A R Y 266b-267c

C O M M E N T A R Y 267c-272b

b 6 - 7 ' ' i n his footsteps.. . " ' : an adaptation from H o m e r (see de Vries).
b 8 - c 1 'god k n o w s : for the supposed superiority o f the gods i n the business o f naming,
see 252 b 2-4 with note, -'experts in dialectic': d i a l e k t i k o i , proponents o f d i a l e k t i k e , sc.
techne,
'the science o f conversation' ( d i a l e g e s t h a i ) . C f . P h i l e b u s 17 a. W e should not
perhaps read as much into Socrates' hesitation about the title as Hackforth does (Plato
realises that his new tool 'has yet to be tested i n practice', 134, n . 4: possible, but only a
guess); it is rather simple i r o n y 7 call them dialecticians (though you and Lysias may have
another name for them)'. B y the time o f the P h a e d r u s , 'dialectic' seems to have become an
established (Platonic) term for proper philosophical method.
c 1-2. The implication is presumably that Lysias and those like h i m would use a rather less
complimentary name. A fair guess would be 'babblers and lofty talkers'; cf. 270 a 1, with
note o n 269 e l - 2 7 0 a 9.
c 2 'this': i.e. what we have just been talking about, the method o f collection and division.
c 5 'to bring them gifts as i f they were kings': a reference perhaps to the size o f the fees
charged by the purveyors o f rhetoric (cf. e.g. M e n o 91 d).
266 c 6-267 d 9: the rules o f rhetoric as currently understood.
266 c 6 'They are kingly enough': without irony, as said by Phaedrus?
d 1-4. Phaedrus has missed the point, not for the first time: dialectic is itself part of
rhetoric, i f not the whole o f it.
d 7 ' " p r e a m b l e " ' ( p r o o i m i o n ) : o n the technical terms introduced i n this section, and on
the individual rhetoricians named, see e.g. Kennedy, 54 ff. Socrates' tone throughout
beginning with his reference to 'the "refinements" o f the science' in d 9is one of gentle
ridicule.
267 b 1 'and put new things i n an o l d way . . .* (supplying from what precedes): i.e.
they dress up new ideas as familiarso giving them a cloak o f respectabilityand familiar
ones as i f they were new?
b 1-2. De Vries compares G o r g i a s 449 b - c (Socrates: ' W i l l you answer a straight question,
instead o f using long speeches as your pupil Polus just started to d o ? ' Gorgias: 'Long
answers are sometimes necessary; but when it c4mes to it, no one can say the same things
more briefly than me').
b 4. I f we keep , the sense will be ' . . . had discovered a science o f what speeches are
needed', which is probably weak enough to justify de Vries's suspicion that it is an
explanatory marginal note', i.e. by a later hand.
b 1 0 - c 1 'what Polus has enshrinedterms l i k e . .
literally 'Polus* shrines (mouses*:
cf.
m o u s e i o n , 'sacred place', at 278 b 9) o f terms ( l l o g o i ) , like . . . ' . Alternatively, m c u s e i a
l o g o n are 'choirs (?) o f l o g o i : cf. Aristophanes' ' m o u s e i a o f swallows', used of the
unmusical chattering o f inferior tragedians ( F r o g s 93). Hackforth interprets the p h r a * as
the title o f a book by Polus ('his Muses'
T r e a s u r y o f P h r a s e s ) ; but among other gs
what would it make o f the syntax?this may involve attributing an anachronistic sea: to
mouseion.
c 2 - 3 . Literally 'and o f (the) Licymnian names ('words', H a c k f o r t h : o n o m a t a ) , whic. h
(i.e. Licymnius) gave him . . . ' . The genitive depends on .
9

202

rt

c 8-9 'the might o f the Chalcedonian': i.e. Thrasymachus o f Chalcedon ('a designation in
Homeric style', de Vries), given to verbal bullying, according to the portrait o f him in
R e p u b l i c I.
268 a 1-269 c 5: Socrates objectscan this really be all there is to rhetoric?
268 c 2. The plural (or else Burnet's ) is clearly needed.
e 2 'being a musician': sc. and therefore not interested in discord (being e u h a r m o s t o s ,
'well-turied'/'even-tempered')? O r , perhaps more simply, the play is on two senses o f
m o u s i k o s : 'musician', and 'person o f culture' (cf. de Vries). Either way, the clause provides
the point o f the introduction o f the musician: others might be inclined to respond harshly to
so elementary an error; but at least the musician would have the patience to explain i t . . .
e 5 : is here intransitive, 'to be (in a certain condition)*, with
. . . 2 (the corresponding verbal noun) as internal accusative.
e 6. 'elements' is supplied: literally 'the (things) to do with harmony*.
269 a 2 & (: sc. .
a 5 ' "the honey-tongued A d r a s t u s " ' : probably a reminiscence o f Tyrtaeus (the Spartan
poet) 9.8. Pericles is paired with a heroic counterpart (Adrastus, king o f Argos. led the
Seven against Thebes), as were Gorgias and others i n 261 b - d ; or else, less likely. 'Adrastus'
refers to some other contemporary orator or politician. Pericles is chosen as the obvious
example o f the successful practising orator (cf. e 1-2)or rather, what most people would
accept as such: see on 269 e 1 - 2 7 0 a 8. - : sc. .
b 1-2 'like y o u and ' : cf. 268 c 2 (Phaedrus on the parallel case o f the man pretending t o .
be a doctor).
b 5-6 'some people who are ignorant of dialectic : literally, 'who do not know how to
converse' ( d i a l e g e s t h a i ) . But how much did Pericles himself really know about it? See on
9

269 e l - 2 7 0 a 8.
269 c 6 - 2 7 2 b 6: further requirements o f a proper science o f rhetoric. The orator needs
natural ability, knowledge, and practice; but in particular he needs to understand the nature
of s o u l , since it is i n men's souls that he aims to produce conviction.
The analogies just drawn with tragedy and medicine were deliberately chosen. The effect
of the first is to reiterate the earlier point, about the need for a speech to constitute an
organic whole (compare especially 268 d 3-5 with 264 c 2-5); and the second, too, has its
own particular implications, which Socrates will draw out in the present section, beginning at
270 b. A s doctor is to body, so the true orator is to soul (cf. G o r g i a s 4 6 4 a ff.. 513 d ff.): just
as a doctor needs to know about the nature o f the body in order to apply his treatments
successfully, so the orator will need to know about the soul in order to apply the kinds o f
speech which will produce the desired effects in each type.
The point is reached, however, by a somewhat circuitous route (269 e 1-270 a 9).
Rhetoric, like all other important sciences, 'requires the addition o f babbling and lofty talk
about nature': take the case o f Pericles, who presumably 'became filled with (such) lofty talk
and arrived at the nature o f mind and its absence* through his association with Anaxagoras.
'What do you mean?*, asks Phaedrus. 'Rhetoric is like medicine . . .* In other words,
Pericles supposedly exemplifies the very feature which is about to be demanded of*the
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C O M M E N T A R Y 269e-270a
C O M M E N T A R Y 270a-c
orator: understanding o f (the relevant aspects of) nature. For the detailed interpretation of
this passage, see following note.
What are the 'kinds o f speech' which oratory will apply to the soul? A t first sight these
seem at least to include the inventions o f the experts who were mocked in 266 d-267 d: see
272 a 4 ff. (the orator must 'grasp the occasions . . . for speaking concisely . . . ' ) . Socrates is
not perhaps so much concerned to throw doubt on the effectiveness
o f these inventions; the
burden o f his criticism is rather just that those responsible for them should have paid more
attention to the question how and when they should be used. O n the other hand, it is worth
noticing that he does not explicitly commit himself here (or indeed anywhere else) to the view
that a l l , or indeed any, o f the techniques in question are in fact useful towards the proper
purposes o f the orator (on which see 270 b 7-9, with note)in the event, it might be that he
would discover no occasion for using them at all; and the tone in which they were originally
introduced perhaps makes any such commitment unlikely. But see further on 277 c 2-3.
269 e 1-270 a 8. Both Hackforth and de Vries find genuine praise o f Pericles' eloquence
here, despite the scathing criticisms o f him as statesman in the G o r g i a s (515 b ff.). Guthrie
(vol. I V , 432) rightly replies that 'to Plato the two [i.e. oratory and statesmanship] cannot be
separated'. Either, then, Plato has changed his mind since the G o r g i a s , or, as Guthrie
supposes, the passage is ironic. There is no clear evidence, pace
Hackforth, for the first
alternative, but plenty for the second. Plato has previously criticised not just Pericles, but
Anaxagoras as welland precisely for what he had to say about mind or nous:
first
declaring, in his book, that everything in the universe was ordered by mind, but then 'not
using his mind at a l l ' (hence the suggestion here at 270 a 5 that Pericles learnt about a n o i a ,
'absence o f mind'/'foolishness', from h i m , as well as about n o u s l ) , and so denying Socrates
the kind o f explanation he was looking for ( P h a e d o 97 b ff., 98 b 8-9). If we take the present
passage in the P h a e d r u s seriously, not only will Plato have withdrawn that criticism, which
he had no reason for doing, but he will actually have promoted Anaxagoras to the status of
ge- jine philosopher, which according to the available evidence he has a positive reason for
not doing. In any case, all that Socrates says is that Pericles 'turned out to be the most
complete of a l l ' , i.e. all a c t u a l orators; and that, given his criticisms of existing rhetoric, is
not saying much. What he and Phaedrus are now looking for is the complete orator in the
unqualified (Socratic) sense, which is an altogether different matter. Perhaps Pericles, he
suggests, is the model we need? Certainly he is the most complete we have yet heard; but then
that is no surprise, since he had Anaxagoras as a teacher, who o f course had a special insight
into the nature of mind: he must have filled him with the 'babbling and lofty talk* which
:?!ade him so high-minded and effective . . . Given what we know of Plato's view of
/ ' . w a g c r a s , the net result is to transform what looks initially like a positive judgement on
Pericles into a negative one. A similar tactic is employed in 269 a 5 - c 5: as an honest (?)
working orator, Pericles would have been able to point out the mistake made by current
rhetorical theorists (i.e. of confusing the 'necessary preliminaries' to rhetoric with the thing
itself)but hardly because he was an expert in dialectic, as Socrates pretends at 269 b 5-7.
There is no evidence that he was influenced by the methods o f the historical Socrates; and he
was probably dead by the time Plato was born. But i f he was innocent o f dialectic, his claims
204

as an orator are already undermined, even before we reach 269 e.

'Babbling and lofty talk' (270 a 1), a d o l e s c h i a k a i m e t e d r o l o g i a (literally 'babbling and
talk about things in the sky', t a m e t e d r a ) , is the description which will be applied to talk
about the nature(s) o f things o f the kind in question by people who think it unnecessary and
irrelevant (including current rhetoricians: cf. 266 c 1-2, with note). We find a related pair o f
terms used at R e p u b l i c 488 e 4 - 4 8 9 e 1, in the parable o f the ship (other references in de
Vriesbut the reference to the Statesman
should be to 299 b, not 229 b; similar ideas in
Theaetetus
175 b ff.): those who now compete for power in cities are like sailors on a badlyrun ship, who would call the true steersman (the philosopher) 'a star-gazer ( m e t e b r o s k o p o s ) ,
a babbler ( a d o l e s c h e s ) , and a good-for-nothing' ( a c h r e s t o s , 'useless'). Guthrie treats this as
*a fairly obvious reference to the Socrates o f comedy' (vol. I l l , 374), and in the A p o l o g y
Socrates himself describes the way in which Aristophanes had portrayed him in the C l o u d s ,
as (among other things) meddling with 'things under the earth and in the heavens' (19 b).
Later in the same work, he rebuts the special charge that he regards the sun and moon as
lumps o f matternot as godsby retorting that his accuser must be confusing him with
Anaxagoras, 'whose books are full o f such strange ideas' (26 d-e). The real 'babbling and
lofty talk' ('idle chatter') is perhaps Anaxagoras' actual 'meteorology*.
For what we know o f Anaxagoras independently o f Plato, see K i r k , Raven and Schofield,
ch.XH.
270 a 5. Burnet alters to , with one relatively late M S . But makes
perfectly good sense (see preceding note); merely introduces redundancy, as de
Vries says.
b 5-6 'by knack and experience*: cf. 260 e 5.
b 7-9 'whatever virtuous conviction you wish': literally 'whatever conviction you wish,
and virtue ( a r e t e ) * . The orator's aim will be only to produce the r i g h t kinds o f conviction in
the soul, as the doctor aims to promote only healthy conditions in the body. That the
'practices* prescribed will be ' i n accordance with law and custom' (translating the single
word n o m i m o s ) underlines the same point, (... , sc. .)
c 2 'without (understanding) the nature of the whole': the whole u n i v e r s e , or merely the
whole s o u l ! Hackforth and de Vries must be right in opting for the second interpretation,
because the following discussion, which starts from the proposition in c 1-2, says nothing
whatever about the need to study the universe, and a great deal about the need to study soul
in general. ('The upshot is that we are back again at dialectic as the right methodos
for the
orator', Hackforth; cf. 277 b 5 ff.)
c 3 - 5 . There has been long and fruitless discussion about which, i f any, part of the
Hippocratic corpus Phaedrus is referring to (see Hackforth, de Vries). But it is difficult to
see what occasion Hippocrates would have had for expressing what for all practical purposes
looks close to being a tautology. O r is this just the point? Might Phaedrus be mocking
Socrates by appealing to the highest authority (Asclepius, via Hippocrates) for something
which he regards as blindingly obvious? If so, Socrates refuses to join in the game: 'Hippo
crates was quite right . . . ' (c 6-7). From a philosophical point of view, it is an entirely
necessary step in the argument.
205

C O M M E N T A R Y 270c-272e
C O M M E N T A R Y 272e-274b
c 6 - 7 . C f . G o r g i a s 474 a-b ('you may assemble a l l the witnesses you like; the only witness
who interests me is the man I'm talking to here and nowdoes he accept my conclusions,
when he has heard the arguments?')
d 1 'simple or complex' ( p o i u e i d e s ) : cf. 238 a 3 with note.
d 3 : sc. (from d 2 ) (from c 10).
d 9 - e 1 ' . . . proceeding without doing these things would be just like a blind man's
progress': someone who had to rely on the description o f the method just given ( a sample
piece o f 'meteorology'?) might well be equally in the dark. But all will be made clear.
e 2-3 ' i f anyone teaches anvone rhetoric': put rather obscurely i n the Greek, but cf.
271 a 4-5.
e 3-4 'the essential nature': more literally, 'the essence ( o u s i a ) o f the nature'; cf. 'the o u s i a
o f each thing* at 237 c 3, 'what each thing really i s ' .
271 a 6 - 7 . What precisely is the questionwhether the soul has more than one 'part* or
form' (cf. 253 c 8, with note), or whether there is more than one type o f soul? b 1 ff.
suggests that the latter is meant. O n the other hand, the two questions will in the end go
closely together: see on 256 b 7 - e 2, and on 277 c 2 - 3 . - ' l i k e the form ( m o r p h e ) of the
hody *: i.e. its visible form or shape.
- i 'with v/hich o f its forms': the Greek says only 'with w h i c h ' ; ' o f its forms' is supplied
from 270 d 1-7, in combination with 271 a 7 (where 'complex' is again 'many-formed',
polueides).
b 3 'what sort o f soul's being subjected . . .*: literally 'being o f what sort, by what sorts of
speeches, through what cause one (soul) is convinced, another not'.
b 7 ' i f a model speech is written' ( e n d e i k n u m e n o n ) : the reference is to ' "fair copies"
issued to pupils in the [rhetorical! schools' (Hackforth).
t
1 'not on any other subject, and not on this one': the issue is again deliberately
/w beyond the narrow limits o f rhetoric and speech-writing (cf. 258 d 7-11).
: ^ ^r.^sng o i the soul' ( p s u c h a g o g i a ) : cf. 261 a 8.
d o HL real iife': literally ' i n actions', p r a x e i s ; 'actually being put into practice'
translates the cognate verb p r a t t e i n .
272 a 3 ' (sc. ): the dative is probably to be construed with
a 7-8 . . . The is non-connective; either 'apodotic', or as de Vries
prefers, 'resumptive' (Denniston, 177 ff.).
a 4 Mfct occasions for speaking and for holding back': cf. 275 d 9 - e 3. - ' f o r speaking
cor.'-isciy . . . and for all the forms o f speeches he may learn'; see p . 204 above.
3 j -i^.Vz ; (for ) is unnecessary,
i
; \ 2~-i u r Socrates runs through the issues, and summarises his full position.
T;& ':
vr,rj beginning of this discussion': 259 e 7 - 2 6 0 a 4.
d 6 % natwiz-s ; upbringing': for the distinction, cf. 252 d ff. Real oratory once more
emerges, by implication, a > a tool o f moral education: discovering good qualities vvhere they
i/.lrA naturally, anri building on these.
.
go c<i -jny gives an acceptable sense to ; there is no need foi P'eindorPs
' i'vvhi > actually done': 'actually' here simply marks the emphasia .;ven to

-* Oy \ p o ' i i i c ^ in the sentence.)

206
n

e 3 ' i f it is improbable': literally ' i f it has been improbably done'.

273 a 1 'when this happens': i.e. when one 'pursues' (and captures) the probable.
c 8-9 O r someone else . . .*: 'Plato perhaps hints that the real discoverer was Corax, the
reputed teacher o f Tisias, who "was pleased" to be called after a bird o f prey (the crow
[ k o r a x ] ) \ Hackforth; or, as de Vries maintains, the meaning is genuinely indefinite: O r
whoever the inventor is, and wherever (i.e. whatever city) he boasts o f belonging toI don't
know, and I don't care'.
273 e 8 - 2 7 4 a 2. F o r the idea o f men as slaves o f the gods, cf. e.g. Phaedo
62 b - c . O u r
' w o r k ' is perhaps just to imitate the divine state, by speaking and acting so far as we can in
accordance with reason. - T h e charge that existing orators aim exclusively at gratifying their
audiences is developed at length i n the G o r g i a s : cf. note on 260 e 2 - 7 . But here Socrates
makes a concession: pleasing one's audience may be a consideration (if only secondary)
and that he can hardly deny, i n the light o f the acknowledged presence o f playful elements
in his o w n earlier speeches (cf. note on 277 c 2-3). - : cf. 246 a 8
, 249 e 1-2 . The literal meaning, 'good and o f
good descent', will hardly l i t i n the case o f the gods; Hackforth reasonably infers from
parallels i n Aristophanes that 'the phrase became stereotyped, and often meant no more
than " w h o l l y g o o d " ' (69, n . 2; hence 'good and noble' i n my translation). In 246 a 8, the
formula can be taken i n its literal sense (it would be pedantic or worse, since we are there
dealing with a simile, to insist that our horses could not actually have had sires or dams); in
249 e 1-2, it is adapted to a new use.
274 a 2-5 'the way r o u n d ' ( p e r i o d o s ) : a non-mythical counterpart o f the soul's p e r i o d o s
or 'circuit' i n the heavens (247 d 5)? - 'for the sake o f great things': what are these? Since
oratory has now been closely linked with philosophy, it is natural to think o f the rewards
outlined for the philosopher i n the myth i n Socrates' second speech. But this would imply
that the two things have actually been identified, which is not the case (or at least not yet: see
on 276 c 3-5): for one thing, the orator operates in a public arena, which the philosopher as
such does not. The 'great things' i n question should perhaps rather be taken as consisting
primarily in what has previously been hinted at as the aim o f oratory proper: the realisation
of the good, the fine and the just in society at large. The argument will then again run in
parallel with the G o r g i a s (see especially 513 d ff.), though the G o r g i a s is also eloquent on the
rewards for the just individual himself, both i n life and after death. - 'for those you have in
m i n d ' : i.e. merely succeeding as an orator (de Vries). Heindorf's for would make the
Greek smoother, but would not alter the sense.
b 3 - 7 . Since the 'science o f speaking', or rhetoric, includes the w r i t i n g o f speeches (see
pp. 194-5 above),, there j s no real contrast between 'speaking' in b 3 ('the scientific and
unscientific aspects~of speaking') and 'writing' in b 6. The transition eftected here is not, as
it might appear, between a discussion o f the spoken word and one o f the written word, but
between a discussion o f the technical requirements involved in making or writing speeches,
and one o f 'propriety and impropriety in writing'i.e. about the conditions under which the
use o f writing (in the first instance, the writing o f speeches) becomes a matter for reproach
(b 6-7 with 277 d 1-3). The subject was 'left over' (b 7) from 257 c 4 ff., where Lysias was
207

C O M M E N T A R Y 274d-275b

C O M M E N T A R Y 274c-275b

said to have been abused 'by one o f the politicians' for being a speech-writer. N o one, of
course, least o f all the politicians, would have doubted the propriety o f s p e a k i n g (though
Socrates has suggested, at 272 a 4, that there will be right and wrong occasions for it). We
have dealt with the technical aspects o f speeches, spoken or written; now it remains to
consider what our attitude should be towards writing as such.
274 b 6-277 a 5: how useful is writing as a medium of communication and teaching?
On the implications o f this section for Plato's own activity as a writer, and for our under
standing o f the P h a e d r u s itself, see Introduction (and notes on 277 d 6 - e 3, 278 b 7, and
278 d 9 - e 1).
274 b 9 i n relation to speaking': l o g o i again (as in b 3). After the implicit reference to
speech-writing in b 6-7, it would be possible to take l o g o i here as referring specifically to
written speeches. But (a) the question Socrates is now raising ('how you will most gratify
god . . . ' ) clearly derives from 273 a 8-274 a 2, where the subject was the spoken as well as
the written speech (cf. note on 274 b 3-7); (b) the discussion which follows is in fact about
both the written and the spoken word (in so far as it compares the merits of the two),
-'whether actually speaking, or talking about i t ' : literally 'acting or talking/speaking
{ l e g o n Y ; i.e., presumably, in practice or in theory. A n y conclusions reached will apply both
to actual speaking (or writing), and to theorising about itas the rhetoricians do, but also as
Socrates and Phaedrus have been doing. The rhetoricians put their theories in writing, while
Socrates and Phaedrus (dramatically speaking, at least) have been using the medium of
c o n v e r s a t i o n . These are the two kinds o f medium which are about to be compared; the
discussion thus implicitly takes place in the light o f actual examples o f each.
c 1-3. The story will pretend to give direct insight into what will 'gratify god in relation to
l o g o i (b 9); but if we are to reject human opinions on the subject (i.e. about the value to be
pUced on writing), we must rely on our own findings, not on hearsay (cf. 270 c 6-7, with
r c i c ; , since only those who passed on the story know whether it is true or not. (It is, of
course, yet another Platonic fiction: see 275 b 3-4.)
274 c 5-275 b 2: Theuth and Thamus.
The content and style of this piece o f pseudo-historical writing immediately call to mind
Herodotus* account of Egypt in Book II o f his H i s t o r i e s ; and I believe that tiiat is the
intended effect. The initial choice o f Egypt as a setting might itself have been suggested by
Herodotus' remark (II. 77) that ' o f the Egyptians, those who live in the cultivated part are
he most careful of all men in keeping up the memory o f the past, and by far the most given
id hfonicling (or 'the telling o f laics', l o g i o l a t o i ) o f all those I have questioned'. When it
comes :o matters relating to memory (274 c 4 ff.), who should know better than the
Egyptians'' i C f . Timaeus
20 d ff., where Egyptian records provide a suitable pedigree for the
myth ol Atlantis.) True, Herodotus does not mention a Theuth, though he docs talk ahout
the sacred ibis ( T h a m u s / T h a m o u s / / K m m o n he calls by what he says is the Egyptian name
A m o u n , II. 42). But Theuth probably still has Hcrodotean connections of a kind. It is
: icrodoujs' stated view that 'nearly all the gods* names came to Greece from Egypt' (II. 50):
j 's behind 'Theuth' there is an original (?) T h o t h (so at least the name is transcribed later),
1

208

the change o f vowel sound suggesting P r o m e t h e u s , who is his Greek counterpart as inventor
o ' the arts and sciences. (Relevantly, Thoth is also the s c r i b e o f the gods: see E . A . Wallis
Budge, The E g y p t i a n B o o k o f t h e D e a d (London 1895, republished New York 1967) c x v i i i cxix. For Prometheus, cf. P r o t a g o r a s 320 d ff., and P h i l e b u s 16 c ff.; the latter passage
again implicitly connects him with Theuth, who this time becomes something o f an expert in
theoretical linguistics.) A m o u n , Herodotus says, is the Egyptian Zeus: a different name, i . i
this case, but the same god. O f course, such ideas need not necessarily have been restricted to
Herodotus, and much o f the authentic detail in the passage clearly does not come from him.
Nonetheless, that Plato is alluding to (parodying?) him is still in my view a possible
hypothesis.
The net result is a new version o f an old theme, the quarrel between Zeus and Prometheus
(for its original forms, see Hesiod Theogony
535 ff., W o r k s a n d D a y s 42 ff.). H a d Plato
presented it directly as such, he would have had to use the form o f myth, as Protagoras does
in his Great Speech in the P r o t a g o r a s (reference above). But through the device of
translating it to Egypt, he is now able to present it, by way o f variation, as i f it were h ' t s t o r y
(though as c 1-3 warns us, no more to be relied upon for that): Egypt is a place where
memories are long enough even to recall the actual disposition o f things in the beginning . . .
(That Zeus should be the real protagonist in the story will be highly appropriate. The Zeus of
the P h a e d r u s is the patron o f philosophy; and Thamus* argument against the use o f writing
will soon be the basis o f the argument for the rival medium o f conversation as a condition o f
intellectual progress.)
274 c 5. The real Theuth/Thoth seems to have had no connection with Naucratis.
Naucratis was a Greek foundation, and according to Herodotus the only port o f Egypt in
ancient times (II. 179): is Theuth/Prometheus perhaps located there in the story because o f
his dual nationality (see previous note)? (I owe some o f the information on which both notes
are based to my colleague Earl McQueen; he is not to blame for the conclusions 1 have
derived from it.)
c 8 - d 2. The form o f the list is significant: first serious inventions, then draughts and dice,
then letters. Writing, Socrates will soon suggest, is itself properly seen as a form of
amusement (276 d).
d 4 'Thamus they call Ammon': the M S reading ('while the god they call Amnion')
would give an intelligible sense, since Thamuswho must in any case be meantis
undoubtedly a god. But it seems to make the reader work unnecessarily hard, and is even
marginally ambiguous, given that only Theuth has explicitly been identified as a god:
Postgate's looks altogether more convincing, and can be defended palaeographically (see de Vries).
275 a 4-5 'they are reminded': a n a m i m n e i s k e s t h a i , the verb corresponding to the noun
anamnesis,
translated as 'recollection' at 249 c 2.
a 6 'the reality of i f : as de Vries points out, a l e t h e i a in this context is also likely to suggest
Mack o f forgetfulness' (a privative plus l e t h e ) .
b 1 'when for the most part they know nothing': 'for the most part*, because they do know
somethinglike
the pupils o f ihc rhetoricians: what they don't know is how to use what they
have for good or i l l .
209

C O M M E N T A R Y 275b-d

C O M M E N T A R Y 275e-276c

b 2 'because they have acquired the appearance . . ' : the Greek is neater'because they
have become appearing-wise ( d o x o s o p h o i ) instead o f wise*.
b 5 ff. "those at the sanctuary at Dodona said . . . ' : the aorist tense ( e p h i s a n ) ought to
mean that they said it on some particular occasion, which is p u z z l i n g w h e n did they say it,
and to whom? There is, as it happens, a report i n Herodotus' same account o f Egypt (see on
274 c 5-275 b 2) o f what the priestesses at Dodona told h i m about the origins of the oracle
when he visited the place (II. 55, with the preceding chapters). But his version is different:
what they told him was that the first 'prophetic utterance was made by a black dove (from
Egyptian Thebes) perched in an oak, not by the oak itself. The idea that the sacred oak itself
speaks is found, not in Herodotus, but e.g. in the Odyssey
(14. 327 ff.) and in Sophocles
( T r a c h i n i a e 171,1168). It is not impossible, however, that Plato has conveniently conflated
this idea with Herodotus' report, in order to be able to introduce the complex conceit which
follows (b 7 - c 2).
The phrase 'oak and rock' is proverbial; for its occurrences, and its general meaning and
origins, see West on Hesiod, Theogony
35. But on the two other occasions on which it occurs
in Plato ( A p o l o g y 34 d, R e p u b l i c 544 d-e) it is introduced not by itself but as a quotation
from a particular passage in the Odyssey
(19.162-3, Penelope to Odysseus before she knows
>:s 'Identity): In Lattimore's translation, 'But even so, tell me who you are, and the place
where you come from. / Y o u were not born from any fabulous oak, or a boulder.' ( A p o l o g y :
'the very thing Homer says holds of me1 am not sprung " f r o m oak or from rock", but
from human parents'; R e p u b l i c : 'do you think that constitutions come about perhaps "from
oak or r o c k " , and not from the characters o f those who live in cities?') Here too Plato has
the same passage in mind, except that in this case he turns it on its head: 'truth comes from
oak, or from rock ('just anywhere', as in the Odyssey
passage, but now in a positive sense);
you should not ask who the speaker is and where he comes f r o m ' .
9

: a '5 i h z Theban says': 'you tell me I shouldn't care who the speaker is and where he
ccn-ss .; ir. that case I accept what your Theban says'. But might there also be the
rrpl5cat!cn that one would not normally accept anything from a Theban? A later writer,
Plutarch, says that the people of Attica regarded the Boeotiansand so, by implication,
those of (Greek) Thebesas 'dense, stupid and silly* ( O n t h e E a t i n g o f M e a t 995 2; see also
e.g. Pindar O l y m p i a n s 6. 90). (Herodotus also prefers the account o f the founding of the
oracle at Dodona given by the priests o f Egyptian Thebes; but it is doubtful whether anyone
could be expected to pick up t h a t allusion.)
c 3 - d 2. What Socrates says in this passage is in principle entirely general; it *-.:} apply to
e practitioners c f each and every science. But he will soon bring the discission back
^ ; : ^ ; ; y to 'the science of speaking': see 276 c 3-5 with note, - ' w r i t t e n w c r d s \ l o g o i
t.ezTQmmexoi
(c 8 - d 1): we need not insist on 'words' as a translation o f l o g o i ' .
phrase is
precisely equivalent tc 'the things written' ( t a g e g r a m m e n a , 'the things said in wrir>:3 ).
d 5-6. For :he idee here de Vries compares P r o t a g o r a s 329 a (see note on 2 7 ' 3-9) and
247 e.
> c

t 1 'written words': the Greek here has only l o g o i ; but the l o g o i g e g r a m m e n o ^ 1 must
jr. meant.
210

e 1 'composition : l o g o s yet again.

276 a 1 'another way of speaking' ( a l i o s l o g o s ) : 'speaking' again covers both actual
speaking or talking and writing (see pp. 194-5, and especially 274 b 3 and 9, with notes),
a 9 'phantom : or 'image' ( e i d d l o n ) .
b 3-4 'would he sow them':, the verb used, a r o d , normally seems to be connected with
p l o u g h i n g ; de Vries calls its use here a poeticism, comparing a fragment o f Sophocles (320),
but it might also be a witticism: a 'garden o f Adonis' might be very small ('a pot or windowbox for forcing plants at the festival o f A d o n i s ' , Hackforth).
c 1-2 : ' i n the other way*; 'adverb o f 6 fapoc', L S J .
c 3-5 'The man who has pieces o f knowledge about the just, the fine and the good' is the
expert in the true science o f speaking, whose business it is to 'pass on virtuous convictions to
the soul' (270 b 7-9). L i k e the experts in other sciences (cf. 275 c 5ff.), he will prefer the
living, spoken word to the written, because effective teaching can only take place where the
pupil can question his teacher, and the teacher can defend his statements; both o f which are
impossible i n the case o f written works (275 d 4 ff., 276 c 7-9). But this means, i n effect, that
the science o f speaking will now, after all, be actually identical with the science o f dialectic
(276 e 5-7; contrast note on 274 a 2 - 5 , relating to a previous stage in the argument). It was
shown earlier that the speaker required the same methods as the dialectician (the procedures
of collection and division, 264 e 7-266 c 1); it is now shown that he also requires the same
medium. There are also further consequences. Firstly, the model of teaching as the 'passing
o n ' o f convictions on the basis o f knowledge is superseded. What the teacher possesses, as
Socrates specifies here, is not full knowledge or wisdom (cf. 278 d 3-6), but only 'pieces o f
knowledge ( e p i s t e m a i : cf. Theaetetus
197 e ff.; not, as often, 'branches o f knowledge',
which would hardly be appropriate in this context); he is not to regard any statement he
makes as clear and definitive, but only as a seed which will bear fruit in due time. (Hence
Socrates repeated warning to Phaedrus, in relation to their own discussion, not to accept
anything merely on the basis o f what other people say, however great their authority may
appear to bewhat matters is what the two o f them agree about the argument, here and
now: 270 c 6-7, 275 b 5 - c 2.) Secondly, the science o f speaking ceases to be strictly
comparable with other sciences. There, teaching and practice are separate: teaching the tools
of the trade is one thing, using them another. In the case of speaking, as now understood
(i.e. as dialectic), teaching and practice are coextensivepractising the science
means
teaching, conversing with, a pupil, who will then continue the process with h i s pupils, and so
on (277 a 1-3). Thirdly, as this immediately suggests, speaking is no longer seen as a matter
of addressing large audiences (again see note on 274 a 2-5); it can achieve its proper purpose
only in the context o f direct contact between one individual mind and another (one cannot
carry on a c o n v e r s a t i o n with large numbers o f people at once). This is in line with what
Socrates suggested at the beginning o f the discussion (261 a 7 ff.), that 'rhetoric is a kind o f
leading o f the s o u l . . . , not only in law-courts and all other kinds o f public gatherings, but in
private ones too'. There w i l l , o f course, still be a place for public speaking too, and there will
be a right and a wrong way o f doing it. But the implication o f the present argument is that it
will be ineffective in achieving its purposes, to the extent that it lacks the conditions
9

211

C O M M E N T A R Y 276d-277c

COMMENTARY 277oe

necessary for true communication and teaching.

We can hardly miss the resemblance between the relationship described here between
teacher and pupil and that described in Socrates' second speech, between the ideal lover and
his boy: the one is perhaps just a prosaic version o f the other. Having earlier based the
discussion o f rhetoric partly on the f o r m o f the speech, so now Plato links it with its c o n t e n t ,
indicating something o f the cash value to be put on it (as perhaps as 274 a 2-3).
d 1-5. The omission o f in d 2 is clearly necessary for the sense. - * "reaches a forgetful
old age" * (d 3-4): a poetic turn, i f not an actual quotation from poetry. - ' a s he watches
their tender growth : i.e. on the page/papyrus roll?
e 3 'telling stories about justice and the other subjects you speak o f (cf. c 3): the telling of
stories, perhaps, being the obvious example o f the use o f writing for mere amusement. But as
Hackforth suggests, we are probably also intended to find here an allusion to Socrates'
second speech (cf. Thompson, xvi ff., and note on 277 c 2-3 below). Alternativelyso
Szlezak, 14, following W . Lutherthe allusion is to the R e p u b l i c : see R e p u b l i c 376 d, 501 e.
276 e 4 - 2 7 7 a 4. A vivid description o f the dialectical process, 'taking a fitting soul': cf.
252 d 5 ff. 'plants and sows' announces a slight change o f metaphor: the teacher's l o g o i
are no longer themselves seeds, but possess one (277 a 1). F r o m this, other l o g o i will grow in
ether soils/other minds (the phrase in the Greek means both): i.e. new l o g o i , though deriving
from the insights contained in the first, 'capable o f rendering it for ever immortal': 'it' is
presumably the seed, which will live on in the l o g o i produced by successive minds. T h e man
who possesses it' will therefore have achieved something o f permanent value, and will be 'as
happy as it is possible for a man to be'. Hackforth here aptly compares Socrates' speech in
the Symposium:
all men strive for immortality through their products; but if anyone
achieves it, it is the man who 'has brought forth and nurtured true virtue' (212 a 5-7).
1

277 a 6-279 b 5: conclusions.

277 9 6 w can decide those other issues': i.e. pass a formal verdict on them.
c 2-3 'offering a variegated soul variegated speeches containing all the modes, and simple
speeches to a simple soul*: it is natural at first sight to read the distinction here between the
'simple' ( h a p l o u s ) and the 'variegated* ( p o i k i l o s ) soul in terms o f that between simplicity and
complexity (soul as h a p l o u s or p o l u e i d e s , 'many-formed*) in 27O b ff., which is after all the
context referred to in b 8 - c 2. But this evidently cannot be right, since as Socracs* second
speech showed, every
soul is in principle complex, in the sense o f having a number of
distinguishable 'forms' or 'parts*. The connection is rather with 230 a 3-6, which is the only
other passage in the dialogue which applies the idea o f 'simplicity* to the individual as such.
The 'simple' soul, thai passage suggests (see note), will be the 'tame' one. ir> Ahich the
'divine portion* of reason controls the wild and complex ( p o l u p l o k o s ) beast of apatite. For
the concept of a 'variegated* soul, see especially the description o f the democraik ate and
the corresponding type of individual in R e p u b l i c V I I I : the democratic state is 'like p o i k i l o s
garment . .
variegated ( p e p o i k i l m e n e ) with all types o f characters' (557 c); > too the
democratic individual (561 e), whose way o f life is marked by his giving equal sta"j all his
desires, with no distinction between good and bad (558 c ff.). In this case thr- u'ast of
fc

212

appetiteitself described as p o i k i l o s at 588 c 7has asserted itself, although not necessarily

at the total expense o f the desires of the other parts o f the soul, since a l l desires are to be
treated equally (democratic man will be found playing at politics, trying his hand at general
ship, even dabbling in philosophy: 561 d). T o return to the P h a e d r u s passage: i f speeches are
to match souls (b 8 - c 2), a 'simple' speech for a 'simple' soul will address itself to the ruling
rational element alone, while a 'variegated' speech, for the variegated soul, will be forced to
speak to all the elements in it, including the worsthence the further description o f it as
p a n ( h ) a r m o n i o s , 'containing all the modes': music too, as R e p u b l i c III tells us, adapts itself
through its different modes to the whole range o f types of behaviour and o f character,
c 2 - 3 , that is, gives a quite specific application o f the general principle (speeches for souls).
But most o f the musical modes are specifically outlawed from the ideal state o f the
R e p u b l i c , on the grounds that by imitating the wrong kinds o f behaviour they serve to
encourage them. The comparison with music thus ought to imply an entirely n e g a t i v e
attitude on Plato's part towards the 'offering o f variegated speeches' (see especially R e p u b l i c
399 c - d , 404 d-e). H o w then can he make Socrates include it here as a legitimate part o f
rhetoric, as he appears to do? Perhaps because he recognises that we do not, after all, live in
the best o f all possible worlds; men are not as they should be ('simple' and 'tame'), and the
speaker must take account o f that fact. Plato might then be prepared, in principle, to give
more weight than he appeared to do at the time to the 'refinements' of the recognised experts
described in 266 d - 2 6 7 d (cf. note on 269 c 6-272 b 6); see especially 267 c - d , on Thrasymachus' ability to play on the emotions o f an audience. But it is hard to see how such skills in
themselves could serve the cause o f truththe essential requirement. A more likely model, 1
think, is to be found in Socrates* own speeches on love, in whichas in much o f Plato's
writing generallyemotional appeal is duly combined with logical rigour (? cf. 236 b 7-8).
See Introduction, and Thompson, x v i i - x v i i i .
c 3 ff. The accusative and infinitive construction depends on in b 3.
c 4 'to the degree that its nature allows': either implying that the making o f speeches is
inevitably to some extent unscientific (by comparison with dialectic: cf. 277 e 8-9); or merely
'to the highest degree possible*. Alternatively,the Greek may mean 'to the best o f his ability*
('within h u m a n limits*, Hackforth).
c 5-6 'whether for the purposes of teaching or persuading*: the conclusions apply both in
terms o f the aims which rhetoric should set itself, and in terms o f those it currently
recognises (cf. especially 261 e ff.).
d 6 - e 3. What lies behind the argument here is probably the point made earlier, at 263
a-b, that justice and goodness are typically things about which we dispute (so that even the
ideal speaker will only have 'pieces o f knowledge* about them, 276 c 3-4). These are the
subjects people write about, especially orators and politicians; i f they think that they have
written anything about them that contains clarity and certainty, then they must be ignorant
of them, - 'whether Lysias or anyone else ever wrote or writes in the future . . . ' : in
accordance with the terms in which he first introduced the subject o f writing (258 d),
Socrates now extends the scope o f the conclusions reached to cover a l l written works
(although this was already implicit in the original discussion itself); similarly, but more
213

C O M M E N T A R Y 277e-278b

COMMENTARY 278b-e

emphatically, i n e 5-8 and 278 b 9 - c 4. Here, i f not before, we are bound to consider what
the consequences are for Plato's own works, the P h a e d r u s included. Socrates' conclusions
will as a matter o f fact apply to them, i n so far as they are written, and Plato can neither have
been unaware o f the point himself, nor have expected his readers to miss it. C f . also notes on
278 b 7, d 9 - e 1. But for a fuller discussion o f these and other related issues, see Intro
duction. - 'or publicly, i n the course o f proposing laws, so writing a political composition':
cf. 257 e-258 c (echoed also i n 'even i f the whole mass o f the people applauds i t ' , e 2-3).
- ' w h e t h e r awake or asleep' (d 10): i.e. whether a person is conscious o f his ignorance or
not. O n the account o f oratory which Phaedrus gave at the beginning o f the discussion
(259 e-260 a), it was openly claimed that the orator has no need to know what is really just;
but even i f someone is ignorant without recognising itas i n the case o f the writers just
referred toit w i l l still be a matter for reproach.
9

e 8-9 'or Indeed spoken, i n the way that rhapsodes speak theirs : cf. G o r g i a s 449 b - c (note
on 267 b 1-2 above), and P r o t a g o r a s 328 e - 3 2 9 aconsult Pericles or any other expert
speaker, and they will give you a speech; 'but i f someone were to question them on
something, like books they have no answer to give, and no questions to ask for themselves
. . . ' . Rhapsodes would lecture o n poetry, as well as performing it (as Plato's Ion lectures on
Homer). But there are examples closer to home, i n the shape o f Socrates two speeches; it is
true o f each, i n its original context, that it is a set piece, designed to 'produce conviction
without questioning or teaching .
278 a 4. iv before is perhaps the result o f someone's attempt to cure what is
admittedly an unwieldy piece o f Greek; i f so, it makes matters worse.
a 5 'speeches ( l o g o i ) o f that k i n d : i.e. 'things said which have all the features just
describedand so not really 'speeches at a l l , although what is said might i n c l u d e speeches.
See on b 9.
b 2 - 4 . Socrates usual politeness: who else would tit the description just given, i f not
himself?
b 7 'So now we have had due amusement from the subject o f speaking : at first sight an
odd thing for Socrates to say, since to all appearances it has been a quite serious discussion,
though containing playful elements- W e might perhaps interpret it just i n terms c f his old
pretence o f ignorance (cf. especially 262 d 5-6)'but o f course, since I know nothing about
it, what's been said can t be taken too seriously ; and this will fit well with b 2-4. Ths:e may,
however, also be a further significance. There is one feature o f the preceding discussion
which according to the terms o f the argument will immediately deprive it o f any clair, to real
seriousness; namely that it is, i n the end, a piece o f w r i t i n g . It may be that Plate * j here
acknowledging this, surfacing momentarily as author (while still preserving the c. ;matic
proprieties, i n the terms suggested above) in order to indicate to the reader fcc'> the
discussion is ultimately to be taken. O n the one hand (as he might want to say), it p r o x i e s an
illustration o f dialectic in action; on the other, no more certainty or clarity is to be dissevered
in it than in any other example o f writing. (The reference, o f course, is to the hole
conversation, from 259 e; 'speaking ( l o g o i ) is then to be taken in its broadest ser % as
including both actual speaking in its various forms, and writing.
9

214

b 9 'the sacred place : m o u s e i o n , normally 'place o f the Muses',

but here apparently used
as a generic term. - T h e discussion o f writing is slightly oddly described as consisting o f
'speeches ; i f Socrates did most o f the talking, it was still a genuine enough example o f
conversational method or dialectic. O n the other hand, 'speeches certainly describes what
Lysias writes (c 1). Since Plato evidently intends a contrast between the two kinds o f l o g o i ,
the translation needs to preserve that effect by using the same English word in both cases;
and 'speeches is perhaps the best that one can do. The trouble, as usual, is that English has
no term which possesses the extraordinary flexibility o f the Greek l o g o s .
9

c 2-3 'and to H o m e r . . ' : the poet too, it will be implied, is at least ultimately concerned
with the subjects o f the just, the fine and the good (278 a 3-4,277 d 10-e 1), like the speechwriter and the politician; and this accords with Plato's general view o f his function, as
providing models for behaviour (so e.g. in R e p u b l i c IIIII, X ) .
c 7 ' o f little w o r t h : or even ' o f no worth ( p h a u l o s ) , i.e. by comparison with what he now
has to say (cf. d 8).
d 4 ' a lover o f wisdoma philosopher : for this pregnant sense o f the word p h i l o s o p h o s ,
cf. 248 d 3.
d 9 - e 1 'turning them upside down . . ' : surely another deliberate self-reference. We are
told by later sources (references in Hackforth) about the meticulous attention which Plato
paid to his compositions; but the important point is that this is obviousand must be
expected to be obviousfrom the intricate structure o f the P h a e d r u s itself. In the whole
context o f the discussion o f writing, he is not only criticising others, but criticising himself
(Hackforth, 165, n . 2, finds a suggestion o f 'the impatience o f Plato the philosopher with
Plato the meticulous artist )or, more likely, announcing his attitude towards what he
writes. See Introduction.
e 5 ff The introduction o f the rhetorician, teacher and speech-writer Isocrates (436-338
B . C . ) , a counterpart o f Lysias belonging to Plato's own generation, neatly translates a
conversation set in the fifth century into the contemporary world o f the fourth. Plato would
no doubt have expected his immediate readers to make the connection for themselves from
the beginning (even apart from any o f the supposed verbal echoes o f Isocrates which have
been identified by scholars in the body o f the dialogue: references in de Vries, 16). One
special point in common between Lysias and Isocrates, and one which is particularly relevant
to the concerns o f the P h a e d r u s , is that both were essentially w r i t e r s of speeches. Lysias'
main occupation was as a 'consultant' to individuals involved in court cases, but because he
was a 'metic or resident alien, not an Athenian citizen, he could not appear personally in
support o f his 'client (the terms 'consultant' and 'client' are borrowed from Dover (1968),
148 ff.). In Isocrates case, the story is that he was prevented from speaking in publicand
from taking a direct part in politicsby the poorness o f his delivery. But by this stage it
hardly requires further argument that the aim o f the P h a e d r u s is not to attack one individual
speech-writer, however prominent (and Isocrates, at least, was highly influential), but a l l
writers and a l l speakers: i f Lysias is their representative at the dramatic level (see pp. 135
6 above), so Isocrates is in terms o f the real world.
9

A l l this presupposes that what Plato says about Isocrates here is ironic. Hackforth, with
215

C O M M E N T A R Y 279a-c

COMMENTARY 279b-c

many others, disagrees: should interpret the first half o f the prophecy [279 a 5-7) as
already fulfilled when Plato wrote; Isocrates, orations, notably the P a n e g y r i c u s of 380 B.C.,
had already put all previous orators in the shade (whether we ourselves agree is beside the
point); the second half, the "sublime impulse leading to greater things" [a 8-91 is as yet
unfulfilled; but I do not see why Plato should not still have hoped for its fulfilment' (168). In
that case, the P J t p e d r u s cannot be an attack on Isocrates' 'personally and individually';
Plato writes the present passage, Hackforth thinks, partly in order to clear up any doubt on
the point. But (a) i f Isocrates had not already been converted to philosophy by the time of
writing o f the P h a e d r u s , then however superior a political essay like the P a n e g y r i c u s might
have been by some criteria, it would still fail to meet those which Socrates has proposed; and
(b) both before and after any likely date for the P h a e d r u s he defends a conception of
p h i l o s o p h i a which is as far removed from the Socratic-Platonic conception as it could
possibly be ( A g a i n s t t h e Sophists
16 ff.; A n t i d o s i s 270 ff.). It is against this background that
we should read Socrates' suggestion at a 9 - b 1 that 'there is innately a certain philosophical
instinct ( p h i l o s o p h i a t i s ) in the man's m i n d ' .

only a man o f moderate desires (the sbphrbn man) could bear (pherein) or carry (ageinY: a
play on two senses o f pherein,
'put up with', and 'carry*, the second being brought out by
the addition o f agein. The ordinary man would pray for more gold than he can carry; he
would not tolerate what the man o f moderate desires wishes for? sbphrbn also means 'sane':
as we know from Socrates' first speech, having moderate desires and being in one's right
mind are the same thing.
On the remarks surrounding the prayer: in b 6, Bekker's (dual) is undoubtedly to
be preferred to the M S S (Phaedrus has just proposed something for both Socrates
and himself); in c 6-7, 'what friends have they share' is a proverbial expression.

For an excellent short discussion o f the general question o f the relationship between Plato
and Isocrates (with bibliography), see de Vries 15-18.
27? ?. 3-4 . . . : a variation o f the expression Xy, where X is
a proper name and y a term denoting a class o f individuals connected with the person named
(e.g. , Thucydides V I I I . 63, with 49, 'Peisander and his fellowambassadors': cf. L S J s.v. n t p i C . I. 2).
b 1-3 'from the gods here': cf. 262 c 1 0 - d 6, with note. W i t h the reassessment of Socrates'
first speech in 262 c ff., the local gods ceased to be regarded as a malign influence (see
especially 263 d 5-6); now their rehabilitation is completeand gods are, after, all, wise and
good (246 d-e, 278 d). Divine influence has not been mentioned in connection with the
discussion of speaking and writing itself; but cf. 249 c 8 - d 3 (the discussion was p h i l o
s o p h i c a l in nature, because conducted on dialectical principles; and the philosopher is
inspired). -Isocrates suddenly becomes Socrates' 'beloved', instead o f his 'friend' or
'associate' ( h e t a i r o s , 278 e 5-6) because o f what is said about him in a 9 - b 1: Socrates will of
course love a man who is naturally inclined to philosophy (cf. 252 e 1 ff. with 2p0 b 7).
Phaedrus, by contrast, is ' i n love with* a man for his speaking.
279 b 6 - c 8: a final prayer.
De Vries suggests that Socrates here adapts a popular prayer, comparing 'the wefi-known
skolion' or drinking-song: T o be healthy is best for a mortal man,/second to be torn of
noble stature,/the third to be wealthy without g u i l e , / a n d the fourth to be your;.;, in the
company o f friends' (Page, Poetae
M e l i c i G r a e c i no. 890). For the idea of real ixnmy as
lying within, see Symposium
216 d ff. A man's external possessions will be 'in riendly
accord with what is within' i f he has few o f them, because such things divert him f ' m his
proper concerns (see especially Phaedo
66 b ff.). Wisdom is the only wealth wort'.i >?.ving
(de Vries compares R e p u b l i c 521 a; contrast Phaedrus* wish for resources of a diffe. sort
at 228 a 3-4). * A n d may my pile of gold ( c h r u s o s : cf. c h r u s i o n at 228 a 4) be of a s i / " htch
4

216

217

G E N E R A L INDEX T O INTRODUCTION AND COMMENTARY

Academy
Acumenus
Aeschylus
Alcmaeon of Croton
Anacreon
Anaxagoras
Apollo

Axiochus

1, 6 , 1 1 , 1 3 , 1 4 1
1 3 6 , 137
1 5 3 , 168
174
151
203-5
1 4 0 , ( 1 6 5 ) , 1 8 7 , 199
149, 150, 161, 164-5,
166, 169, 172, 177,
181, 210
146, 1 8 9 , 205
136, 138, 140, 167,
202, 205
6, 1 1 , 148, 152, 156,
157, 158, 167, 184,
1 9 1 , 194
1, 2 - 3 , 4 , 1 3 , 167
196

Boreas (and Oreithuia)

138,

Cicadas
Cicero
Collection and division
Corax

135, 163, 194, 197-8

176
200-2
207
141, 153, 157, 164,
172
1, 3

Apology
arete"
Aristophanes
Aristotle
Athens

Cratylus
Critias
Delphi
Democritus
Dialectic (see also Collection and

division, dialegesthai,

Philosophy)

219

140,
171
151

(188)

165, 169, 170-1,

6, 8 f f . , 1 3 5 , 1 6 3 - 4 ,
200, 202, 211-2, 212,
213, 2 1 4 , 216

dialegesthai

(see also Dialectic,

Philosophy)

Dialogue form
Diogenes Laertius
Dion
Dodona

doxa

135, 140, 162, 163-4,

194, 202, 203, (208),
211-2, 214
5, 10, 214
1-2, 5
4, 186
169, 170-1, 210
154, 180, (210)

Hippias
Hippias

Major
Minor

13, 157
197
205
141, 153, 161, 166-7,
179, 180, 188, 190,
195, 196, 202, 210,
215

Hippocrates
Homer

hubris

156, 184, 185, 200

Ibycus

eidos

(see also idea)

155, 156, 182, 187,

(198), 199-200, 201,
206
151
178
( 7 f f . ) , 136, 143, 145,
147-8, 151, (152),
153-4, 157, 166, 168,
168-71, 188, 190
136, 163
138, 146, 153, 170,
172, 178
186

eironeia
Empedocles
eros

Eryximachus
Euripides

Euthyphro
Forms

155, 179, 180, 182,

183, 184, 198

Gods

139, 140-1, 157, 158,

160, 161, 163, 166,
168-71, 178, 179, 185,
202, 207, 216
136, 144, 145, 195,
196
13, 135-6, 17?, 181,
182, 195, 196, 199,
202, 203, 204, 206,
207, 214

Gorgias

Gorgias

Heraclitus
Herodicus
Herodotus
Hesiod

170
137
195, 208-9, '/AO
140, 153, 16?.. 166,
194, 209
220

166
155, 177, 184, 187,
201
153, 168-71, 171-2,
216
153, 169, 172, 173,
185, 186, 197, 214
12-13, 137, 215-6
181, 189

idea (see also eidos)

Inspiration

Ion
Isocrates

kakia

4, 155, 167, 169,

176, 182, 193
4
2-5, 6, 176, 186, 193
135, 138, 152, 155,
162, 163-4, 191, 193,
194, 195, 198, 207-8,
208, 210, 211, 212,
214, 215
7, 12, 13-14, 135-6,
137, 142, 147, 151,
215

Laws
Letter
Letter
logos,

V
VII
logoi,

legein

Lysias

Madness,

138, 146, 154,

(162), 168-71,
199
152, 155, 169,
184, 192, 202
135, 167, 181,
194, 203
135, 153, 161,
167, 169, 181,
194

mania

Meno
mousikS
Muses

221

(156),
(182).
182,
187,
163,
187,

muthos

('myth', 'story')

139, 162, 173, 187,

198, 199, 212

pais ('boy')

143
14, 166, 180, 196
203-5, 214
14, 164, 173, 174,
176, 180, 182, 183,
187, 191, 204, 207,
216
11-12, 135-6, (149),
168, 191, 193-4
14, 152, 159, 180,
185, 193, 200, 201,
202, 209
144, 145, 146, 147-8,
155, 188
3-6, 8ff., 135, 138,
159, (163), 169-70,
181, 186, 189, 194,
202, 207, 215, 215-6
136, 210
7ff., 135, 137, 168
71, 178, 184-5, 185,
186, 190, 194, 207,
(211-2), 212, (213-4),
214
152, 210
138, 151, 153, 157-8,
161', 169-70, 171, 173,
179, 187, 191, 193,
215
13-14, 191

Parmenides
Pericles

Phaedo

Phaedrus

Philebus
philia
Philosophy,

philosophia

Pindar
Play and seriousness

Plutarch
Poetry

Polemarchus
Politicus
- see
Prometheus
Protagoras

Statesman

Republic

4, 4-5, 14, 137, 139,

140, 150, 151, 154,
155, 155-6, 156, 166,
167, 169, 171, 174,
177, 179, 180, 181,
182, 183, 186, 187,
188, 189, 191, 193,
194, 197, 205, 210,
212-3, 215, 216
7ff., 13, 135, 136,
137, 138, 140, 153,
163, 168, 194ff.,
211-2, 213

Rhetoric

Sappho
Seers

151
165, 168-71, 171, 172,
187
135-6, 139, 197-8
164
3, 5-6, 11-12, 135,
136, 137, 140, 141,
150, 151, 154, 154-5,
155, 163-4, 164-5
1, 193
157, 181, 192
14, 157, 181, 200
210, 211
139, 151, 173, (215)
146, 156, 160, 171,
217
140-1, 153-4, 165,
174ff., 203, 206,
212-3
1
14, 156, 181, 198,
200, 205
166-7, 171
7, 11, 14, 136, 138,
142, 145, 146, 151,
155, 159, 163, 164,
166, 180, 183, 184,
185, 189, 190, 191,
193, 216

Setting
Simmias
Socrates (the historical figure)

Solon
Sophists

Sophist
Sophocles

sophos,
sdphronein,
Soul

sophia
sophrosune

(psuche~)

Speusippus

Pythagoreans

208-9
142, 192
13, 140, 142, 150,
192, 209, ?14
174, 178

Recollection

182, (203)

Protagoras

222

Statesman
Stesichorus

Symposium

223

Syracuse

4-5, 186

techne
Thamus

172, 195, 197, 200

208-9
14, 205, 211
196
208-9
150-1, 196, 203, 213

Theaetetus
Theodorus of Byzantium
Theuth
Thrasymachus
thumos,
thumoeides
('spirited part of
the soul')

Timaeus
Tisias
Typhon

(140), 154, 177, 189

14, 154, 171, 172,
174, 178, 182, 184,
186, 208
137, 207
140-1

Writing

9ff., 135, 163-4,

194-5, 206, 207ff.

Xenophanes
Xenophon

161, 178
138

Zeno of Elea

196

224

PLATO - P H A E D R U S
with translation and commentary by C.J. Rowe
The dating of the Phaedrus has been hotly debated: sometimes it has
been counted among Plato's earliest works; sometimes with the dialogues
of the 'middle' period (Phaedo, Symposium,
R e p u b l i c ) ; sometimes with
the late works (e.g. Sophist, Statesman).
The safest and easiest hypothesis
is that it stands somewhere between the latter two groups, in that it
displays themes and preoccupations in common with both. Love,
knowledge and the Forms, the nature and fate of the immortal soul:
these are subjects familiar from the constructive middle dialogues; on the
other hand, the discussion Wflich frames Socrates* treatment of them, about
the relationship between rhetoric and philosophy, about the value of writing,
and about methodology, can in many respects plausibly be linked with the
approach of the later and more critical dialogues. In modern times the
Phaedrus has been relatively neglected; yet the rich mixture of its themes,
and the consequent variations of style and tempo, make it one of the most
rewarding parts of the Platonic corpus. This same variety is also the source
of one of the major problems affecting our understanding of the work; is
it a real unity? If so, what are the threads which hold the parts together?

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