'Not mine the word'
which I am about to speak, but that of Phaedrus. For often he says to me
in an indignant tone:--'What a strange thing it is, Eryximachus, that,
whereas other gods have poems and hymns made in their honour, the great
and glorious god, Love, has no encomiast among all the poets who are
so many. There are the worthy sophists too--the excellent Prodicus for
example, who have descanted in prose on the virtues of Heracles and
other heroes; and, what is still more extraordinary, I have met with a
philosophical work in which the utility of salt has been made the theme
of an eloquent discourse; and many other like things have had a like
honour bestowed upon them. And only to think that there should have been
an eager interest created about them, and yet that to this day no one
has ever dared worthily to hymn Love's praises! So entirely has this
great deity been neglected.' Now in this Phaedrus seems to me to be
quite right, and therefore I want to offer him a contribution; also I
think that at the present moment we who are here assembled cannot do
better than honour the god Love. If you agree with me, there will be
no lack of conversation; for I mean to propose that each of us in turn,
going from left to right, shall make a speech in honour of Love. Let him
give us the best which he can; and Phaedrus, because he is sitting first
on the left hand, and because he is the father of the thought, shall
begin.
No one will vote against you, Eryximachus, said Socrates. How can I
oppose your motion, who profess to understand nothing but matters of
love; nor, I presume, will Agathon and Pausanias; and there can be
no doubt of Aristophanes, whose whole concern is with Dionysus and
Aphrodite; nor will any one disagree of those whom I see around me. The
proposal, as I am aware, may seem rather hard upon us whose place is
last; but we shall be contented if we hear some good speeches first. Let
Phaedrus begin the praise of Love, and good luck to him. All the company
expressed their assent, and desired him to do as Socrates bade him.
Aristodemus did not recollect all that was said, nor do I recollect all
that he related to me; but I will tell you what I thought most worthy of
remembrance, and what the chief speakers said.
Phaedrus began by affirming that Love is a mighty god, and wonderful
among gods and men, but especially wonderful in his birth. For he is the
eldest of the gods, which is an honour to him; and a proof of his claim
to this honour is, that of his parents there is no memorial; neither
poet nor prose-writer has ever affirmed that he had any. As Hesiod
says:--
'First Chaos came, and then broad-bosomed Earth, The everlasting seat of
all that is, And Love.'
In other words, after Chaos, the Earth and Love, these two, came into
being. Also Parmenides sings of Generation:
'First in the train of gods, he fashioned Love.'
And Acusilaus agrees with Hesiod. Thus numerous are the witnesses who
acknowledge Love to be the eldest of the gods. And not only is he the
eldest, he is also the source of the greatest benefits to us. For I know
not any greater blessing to a young man who is beginning life than a
virtuous lover, or to the lover than a beloved youth. For the principle
which ought to be the guide of men who would nobly live--that principle,
I say, neither kindred, nor honour, nor wealth, nor any other motive is
able to implant so well as love. Of what am I speaking? Of the sense of
honour and dishonour, without which neither states nor individuals ever
do any good or great work. And I say that a lover who is detected in
doing any dishonourable act, or submitting through cowardice when
any dishonour is done to him by another, will be more pained at being
detected by his beloved than at being seen by his father, or by his
companions, or by any one else. The beloved too, when he is found in
any disgraceful situation, has the same feeling about his lover. And if
there were only some way of contriving that a state or an army should be
made up of lovers and their loves (compare Rep.), they would be the very
best governors of their own city, abstaining from all dishonour, and
emulating one another in honour; and when fighting at each other's side,
although a mere handful, they would overcome the world. For what lover
would not choose rather to be seen by all mankind than by his beloved,
either when abandoning his post or throwing away his arms? He would be
ready to die a thousand deaths rather than endure this. Or who would
desert his beloved or fail him in the hour of danger? The veriest coward
would become an inspired hero, equal to the bravest, at such a time;
Love would inspire him. That courage which, as Homer says, the god
breathes into the souls of some heroes, Love of his own nature infuses
into the lover.
Love will make men dare to die for their beloved--love alone; and women
as well as men. Of this, Alcestis, the daughter of Pelias, is a monument
to all Hellas; for she was willing to lay down her life on behalf of her
husband, when no one else would, although he had a father and mother;
but the tenderness of her love so far exceeded theirs, that she made
them seem to be strangers in blood to their own son, and in name only
related to him; and so noble did this action of hers appear to the gods,
as well as to men, that among the many who have done virtuously she is
one of the very few to whom, in admiration of her noble action, they
have granted the privilege of returning alive to earth; such exceeding
honour is paid by the gods to the devotion and virtue of love. But
Orpheus, the son of Oeagrus, the harper, they sent empty away, and
presented to him an apparition only of her whom he sought, but herself
they would not give up, because he showed no spirit; he was only a
harp-player, and did not dare like Alcestis to die for love, but was
contriving how he might enter Hades alive; moreover, they afterwards
caused him to suffer death at the hands of women, as the punishment
of his cowardliness. Very different was the reward of the true love of
Achilles towards his lover Patroclus--his lover and not his love (the
notion that Patroclus was the beloved one is a foolish error into which
Aeschylus has fallen, for Achilles was surely the fairer of the two,
fairer also than all the other heroes; and, as Homer informs us, he was
still beardless, and younger far). And greatly as the gods honour the
virtue of love, still the return of love on the part of the beloved to
the lover is more admired and valued and rewarded by them, for the lover
is more divine; because he is inspired by God. Now Achilles was quite
aware, for he had been told by his mother, that he might avoid death and
return home, and live to a good old age, if he abstained from slaying
Hector. Nevertheless he gave his life to revenge his friend, and dared
to die, not only in his defence, but after he was dead. Wherefore the
gods honoured him even above Alcestis, and sent him to the Islands of
the Blest. These are my reasons for affirming that Love is the eldest
and noblest and mightiest of the gods; and the chiefest author and giver
of virtue in life, and of happiness after death.
This, or something like this, was the speech of Phaedrus; and some other
speeches followed which Aristodemus did not remember; the next which he
repeated was that of Pausanias. Phaedrus, he said, the argument has not
been set before us, I think, quite in the right form;--we should not be
called upon to praise Love in such an indiscriminate manner. If there
were only one Love, then what you said would be well enough; but since
there are more Loves than one,--should have begun by determining which
of them was to be the theme of our praises. I will amend this defect;
and first of all I will tell you which Love is deserving of praise, and
then try to hymn the praiseworthy one in a manner worthy of him. For we
all know that Love is inseparable from Aphrodite, and if there were
only one Aphrodite there would be only one Love; but as there are two
goddesses there must be two Loves. And am I not right in asserting that
there are two goddesses? The elder one, having no mother, who is called
the heavenly Aphrodite--she is the daughter of Uranus; the younger, who
is the daughter of Zeus and Dione--her we call common; and the Love
who is her fellow-worker is rightly named common, as the other love is
called heavenly. All the gods ought to have praise given to them, but
not without distinction of their natures; and therefore I must try to
distinguish the characters of the two Loves. Now actions vary according
to the manner of their performance. Take, for example, that which we
are now doing, drinking, singing and talking--these actions are not in
themselves either good or evil, but they turn out in this or that way
according to the mode of performing them; and when well done they are
good, and when wrongly done they are evil; and in like manner not every
love, but only that which has a noble purpose, is noble and worthy
of praise. The Love who is the offspring of the common Aphrodite is
essentially common, and has no discrimination, being such as the meaner
sort of men feel, and is apt to be of women as well as of youths, and
is of the body rather than of the soul--the most foolish beings are the
objects of this love which desires only to gain an end, but never thinks
of accomplishing the end nobly, and therefore does good and evil quite
indiscriminately. The goddess who is his mother is far younger than
the other, and she was born of the union of the male and female, and
partakes of both. But the offspring of the heavenly Aphrodite is derived
from a mother in whose birth the female has no part,--she is from the
male only; this is that love which is of youths, and the goddess being
older, there is nothing of wantonness in her. Those who are inspired by
this love turn to the male, and delight in him who is the more valiant
and intelligent nature; any one may recognise the pure enthusiasts in
the very character of their attachments. For they love not boys, but
intelligent beings whose reason is beginning to be developed, much about
the time at which their beards begin to grow. And in choosing young men
to be their companions, they mean to be faithful to them, and pass their
whole life in company with them, not to take them in their inexperience,
and deceive them, and play the fool with them, or run away from one to
another of them. But the love of young boys should be forbidden by law,
because their future is uncertain; they may turn out good or bad, either
in body or soul, and much noble enthusiasm may be thrown away upon them;
in this matter the good are a law to themselves, and the coarser sort
of lovers ought to be restrained by force; as we restrain or attempt to
restrain them from fixing their affections on women of free birth. These
are the persons who bring a reproach on love; and some have been led to
deny the lawfulness of such attachments because they see the impropriety
and evil of them; for surely nothing that is decorously and lawfully
done can justly be censured. Now here and in Lacedaemon the rules about
love are perplexing, but in most cities they are simple and easily
intelligible; in Elis and Boeotia, and in countries having no gifts of
eloquence, they are very straightforward; the law is simply in favour of
these connexions, and no one, whether young or old, has anything to say
to their discredit; the reason being, as I suppose, that they are men
of few words in those parts, and therefore the lovers do not like the
trouble of pleading their suit. In Ionia and other places, and generally
in countries which are subject to the barbarians, the custom is held
to be dishonourable; loves of youths share the evil repute in which
philosophy and gymnastics are held, because they are inimical to
tyranny; for the interests of rulers require that their subjects should
be poor in spirit (compare Arist. Politics), and that there should be no
strong bond of friendship or society among them, which love, above all
other motives, is likely to inspire, as our Athenian tyrants learned by
experience; for the love of Aristogeiton and the constancy of Harmodius
had a strength which undid their power. And, therefore, the ill-repute
into which these attachments have fallen is to be ascribed to the evil
condition of those who make them to be ill-reputed; that is to say, to
the self-seeking of the governors and the cowardice of the governed; on
the other hand, the indiscriminate honour which is given to them in some
countries is attributable to the laziness of those who hold this opinion
of them. In our own country a far better principle prevails, but, as
I was saying, the explanation of it is rather perplexing. For, observe
that open loves are held to be more honourable than secret ones, and
that the love of the noblest and highest, even if their persons are
less beautiful than others, is especially honourable. Consider, too,
how great is the encouragement which all the world gives to the lover;
neither is he supposed to be doing anything dishonourable; but if he
succeeds he is praised, and if he fail he is blamed. And in the pursuit
of his love the custom of mankind allows him to do many strange things,
which philosophy would bitterly censure if they were done from any
motive of interest, or wish for office or power. He may pray, and
entreat, and supplicate, and swear, and lie on a mat at the door, and
endure a slavery worse than that of any slave--in any other case friends
and enemies would be equally ready to prevent him, but now there is no
friend who will be ashamed of him and admonish him, and no enemy will
charge him with meanness or flattery; the actions of a lover have a
grace which ennobles them; and custom has decided that they are highly
commendable and that there no loss of character in them; and, what is
strangest of all, he only may swear and forswear himself (so men say),
and the gods will forgive his transgression, for there is no such thing
as a lover's oath. Such is the entire liberty which gods and men have
allowed the lover, according to the custom which prevails in our part of
the world. From this point of view a man fairly argues that in Athens
to love and to be loved is held to be a very honourable thing. But when
parents forbid their sons to talk with their lovers, and place them
under a tutor's care, who is appointed to see to these things, and their
companions and equals cast in their teeth anything of the sort which
they may observe, and their elders refuse to silence the reprovers
and do not rebuke them--any one who reflects on all this will, on the
contrary, think that we hold these practices to be most disgraceful.
But, as I was saying at first, the truth as I imagine is, that whether
such practices are honourable or whether they are dishonourable is not a
simple question; they are honourable to him who follows them honourably,
dishonourable to him who follows them dishonourably. There is dishonour
in yielding to the evil, or in an evil manner; but there is honour in
yielding to the good, or in an honourable manner. Evil is the vulgar
lover who loves the body rather than the soul, inasmuch as he is not
even stable, because he loves a thing which is in itself unstable, and
therefore when the bloom of youth which he was desiring is over, he
takes wing and flies away, in spite of all his words and promises;
whereas the love of the noble disposition is life-long, for it becomes
one with the everlasting. The custom of our country would have both of
them proven well and truly, and would have us yield to the one sort of
lover and avoid the other, and therefore encourages some to pursue,
and others to fly; testing both the lover and beloved in contests and
trials, until they show to which of the two classes they respectively
belong. And this is the reason why, in the first place, a hasty
attachment is held to be dishonourable, because time is the true test of
this as of most other things; and secondly there is a dishonour in being
overcome by the love of money, or of wealth, or of political power,
whether a man is frightened into surrender by the loss of them, or,
having experienced the benefits of money and political corruption, is
unable to rise above the seductions of them. For none of these things
are of a permanent or lasting nature; not to mention that no generous
friendship ever sprang from them. There remains, then, only one way of
honourable attachment which custom allows in the beloved, and this is
the way of virtue; for as we admitted that any service which the lover
does to him is not to be accounted flattery or a dishonour to himself,
so the beloved has one way only of voluntary service which is not
dishonourable, and this is virtuous service.
For we have a custom, and according to our custom any one who does
service to another under the idea that he will be improved by him either
in wisdom, or in some other particular of virtue--such a voluntary
service, I say, is not to be regarded as a dishonour, and is not open
to the charge of flattery. And these two customs, one the love of youth,
and the other the practice of philosophy and virtue in general, ought to
meet in one, and then the beloved may honourably indulge the lover. For
when the lover and beloved come together, having each of them a law, and
the lover thinks that he is right in doing any service which he can to
his gracious loving one; and the other that he is right in showing any
kindness which he can to him who is making him wise and good; the one
capable of communicating wisdom and virtue, the other seeking to acquire
them with a view to education and wisdom, when the two laws of love are
fulfilled and meet in one--then, and then only, may the beloved yield
with honour to the lover. Nor when love is of this disinterested sort is
there any disgrace in being deceived, but in every other case there is
equal disgrace in being or not being deceived. For he who is gracious to
his lover under the impression that he is rich, and is disappointed of
his gains because he turns out to be poor, is disgraced all the same:
for he has done his best to show that he would give himself up to any
one's 'uses base' for the sake of money; but this is not honourable. And
on the same principle he who gives himself to a lover because he is a
good man, and in the hope that he will be improved by his company, shows
himself to be virtuous, even though the object of his affection turn
out to be a villain, and to have no virtue; and if he is deceived he has
committed a noble error. For he has proved that for his part he will do
anything for anybody with a view to virtue and improvement, than which
there can be nothing nobler. Thus noble in every case is the acceptance
of another for the sake of virtue. This is that love which is the
love of the heavenly godess, and is heavenly, and of great price to
individuals and cities, making the lover and the beloved alike eager in
the work of their own improvement. But all other loves are the offspring
of the other, who is the common goddess. To you, Phaedrus, I offer this
my contribution in praise of love, which is as good as I could make
extempore.
Pausanias came to a pause--this is the balanced way in which I have
been taught by the wise to speak; and Aristodemus said that the turn of
Aristophanes was next, but either he had eaten too much, or from some
other cause he had the hiccough, and was obliged to change turns with
Eryximachus the physician, who was reclining on the couch below him.
Eryximachus, he said, you ought either to stop my hiccough, or to speak
in my turn until I have left off.
I will do both, said Eryximachus: I will speak in your turn, and do you
speak in mine; and while I am speaking let me recommend you to hold your
breath, and if after you have done so for some time the hiccough is
no better, then gargle with a little water; and if it still continues,
tickle your nose with something and sneeze; and if you sneeze once or
twice, even the most violent hiccough is sure to go. I will do as you
prescribe, said Aristophanes, and now get on.
Eryximachus spoke as follows: Seeing that Pausanias made a fair
beginning, and but a lame ending, I must endeavour to supply his
deficiency. I think that he has rightly distinguished two kinds of love.
But my art further informs me that the double love is not merely an
affection of the soul of man towards the fair, or towards anything, but
is to be found in the bodies of all animals and in productions of the
earth, and I may say in all that is; such is the conclusion which I seem
to have gathered from my own art of medicine, whence I learn how great
and wonderful and universal is the deity of love, whose empire extends
over all things, divine as well as human. And from medicine I will begin
that I may do honour to my art. There are in the human body these two
kinds of love, which are confessedly different and unlike, and being
unlike, they have loves and desires which are unlike; and the desire of
the healthy is one, and the desire of the diseased is another; and as
Pausanias was just now saying that to indulge good men is honourable,
and bad men dishonourable:--so too in the body the good and healthy
elements are to be indulged, and the bad elements and the elements of
disease are not to be indulged, but discouraged. And this is what the
physician has to do, and in this the art of medicine consists: for
medicine may be regarded generally as the knowledge of the loves and
desires of the body, and how to satisfy them or not; and the best
physician is he who is able to separate fair love from foul, or to
convert one into the other; and he who knows how to eradicate and how to
implant love, whichever is required, and can reconcile the most hostile
elements in the constitution and make them loving friends, is a skilful
practitioner. Now the most hostile are the most opposite, such as
hot and cold, bitter and sweet, moist and dry, and the like. And my
ancestor, Asclepius, knowing how to implant friendship and accord in
these elements, was the creator of our art, as our friends the poets
here tell us, and I believe them; and not only medicine in every branch
but the arts of gymnastic and husbandry are under his dominion. Any one
who pays the least attention to the subject will also perceive that in
music there is the same reconciliation of opposites; and I suppose that
this must have been the meaning of Heracleitus, although his words are
not accurate; for he says that The One is united by disunion, like the
harmony of the bow and the lyre. Now there is an absurdity saying that
harmony is discord or is composed of elements which are still in a state
of discord. But what he probably meant was, that harmony is composed of
differing notes of higher or lower pitch which disagreed once, but are
now reconciled by the art of music; for if the higher and lower notes
still disagreed, there could be no harmony,--clearly not. For harmony
is a symphony, and symphony is an agreement; but an agreement of
disagreements while they disagree there cannot be; you cannot harmonize
that which disagrees. In like manner rhythm is compounded of elements
short and long, once differing and now in accord; which accordance, as
in the former instance, medicine, so in all these other cases, music
implants, making love and unison to grow up among them; and thus music,
too, is concerned with the principles of love in their application to
harmony and rhythm. Again, in the essential nature of harmony and rhythm
there is no difficulty in discerning love which has not yet become
double. But when you want to use them in actual life, either in the
composition of songs or in the correct performance of airs or metres
composed already, which latter is called education, then the difficulty
begins, and the good artist is needed. Then the old tale has to be
repeated of fair and heavenly love--the love of Urania the fair and
heavenly muse, and of the duty of accepting the temperate, and those
who are as yet intemperate only that they may become temperate, and of
preserving their love; and again, of the vulgar Polyhymnia, who must
be used with circumspection that the pleasure be enjoyed, but may not
generate licentiousness; just as in my own art it is a great matter so
to regulate the desires of the epicure that he may gratify his tastes
without the attendant evil of disease. Whence I infer that in music, in
medicine, in all other things human as well as divine, both loves ought
to be noted as far as may be, for they are both present.
The course of the seasons is also full of both these principles; and
when, as I was saying, the elements of hot and cold, moist and dry,
attain the harmonious love of one another and blend in temperance and
harmony, they bring to men, animals, and plants health and plenty, and
do them no harm; whereas the wanton love, getting the upper hand and
affecting the seasons of the year, is very destructive and injurious,
being the source of pestilence, and bringing many other kinds of
diseases on animals and plants; for hoar-frost and hail and blight
spring from the excesses and disorders of these elements of love, which
to know in relation to the revolutions of the heavenly bodies and the
seasons of the year is termed astronomy. Furthermore all sacrifices and
the whole province of divination, which is the art of communion between
gods and men--these, I say, are concerned only with the preservation
of the good and the cure of the evil love. For all manner of impiety is
likely to ensue if, instead of accepting and honouring and reverencing
the harmonious love in all his actions, a man honours the other love,
whether in his feelings towards gods or parents, towards the living or
the dead. Wherefore the business of divination is to see to these loves
and to heal them, and divination is the peacemaker of gods and men,
working by a knowledge of the religious or irreligious tendencies which
exist in human loves. Such is the great and mighty, or rather omnipotent
force of love in general. And the love, more especially, which is
concerned with the good, and which is perfected in company with
temperance and justice, whether among gods or men, has the greatest
power, and is the source of all our happiness and harmony, and makes us
friends with the gods who are above us, and with one another. I dare say
that I too have omitted several things which might be said in praise
of Love, but this was not intentional, and you, Aristophanes, may now
supply the omission or take some other line of commendation; for I
perceive that you are rid of the hiccough.
Yes, said Aristophanes, who followed, the hiccough is gone; not,
however, until I applied the sneezing; and I wonder whether the harmony
of the body has a love of such noises and ticklings, for I no sooner
applied the sneezing than I was cured.
Eryximachus said: Beware, friend Aristophanes, although you are going
to speak, you are making fun of me; and I shall have to watch and see
whether I cannot have a laugh at your expense, when you might speak in
peace.
You are right, said Aristophanes, laughing. I will unsay my words; but
do you please not to watch me, as I fear that in the speech which I
am about to make, instead of others laughing with me, which is to the
manner born of our muse and would be all the better, I shall only be
laughed at by them.
Do you expect to shoot your bolt and escape, Aristophanes? Well, perhaps
if you are very careful and bear in mind that you will be called to
account, I may be induced to let you off.
Aristophanes professed to open another vein of discourse; he had a
mind to praise Love in another way, unlike that either of Pausanias or
Eryximachus. Mankind, he said, judging by their neglect of him, have
never, as I think, at all understood the power of Love. For if they had
understood him they would surely have built noble temples and altars,
and offered solemn sacrifices in his honour; but this is not done, and
most certainly ought to be done: since of all the gods he is the best
friend of men, the helper and the healer of the ills which are the great
impediment to the happiness of the race. I will try to describe his
power to you, and you shall teach the rest of the world what I am
teaching you. In the first place, let me treat of the nature of man and
what has happened to it; for the original human nature was not like
the present, but different. The sexes were not two as they are now, but
originally three in number; there was man, woman, and the union of the
two, having a name corresponding to this double nature, which had once
a real existence, but is now lost, and the word 'Androgynous' is only
preserved as a term of reproach. In the second place, the primeval man
was round, his back and sides forming a circle; and he had four hands
and four feet, one head with two faces, looking opposite ways, set on a
round neck and precisely alike; also four ears, two privy members,
and the remainder to correspond. He could walk upright as men now do,
backwards or forwards as he pleased, and he could also roll over and
over at a great pace, turning on his four hands and four feet, eight in
all, like tumblers going over and over with their legs in the air; this
was when he wanted to run fast. Now the sexes were three, and such as I
have described them; because the sun, moon, and earth are three; and the
man was originally the child of the sun, the woman of the earth, and the
man-woman of the moon, which is made up of sun and earth, and they were
all round and moved round and round like their parents. Terrible was
their might and strength, and the thoughts of their hearts were great,
and they made an attack upon the gods; of them is told the tale of Otys
and Ephialtes who, as Homer says, dared to scale heaven, and would
have laid hands upon the gods. Doubt reigned in the celestial councils.
Should they kill them and annihilate the race with thunderbolts, as they
had done the giants, then there would be an end of the sacrifices and
worship which men offered to them; but, on the other hand, the gods
could not suffer their insolence to be unrestrained. At last, after a
good deal of reflection, Zeus discovered a way. He said: 'Methinks I
have a plan which will humble their pride and improve their manners; men
shall continue to exist, but I will cut them in two and then they will
be diminished in strength and increased in numbers; this will have the
advantage of making them more profitable to us. They shall walk upright
on two legs, and if they continue insolent and will not be quiet, I will
split them again and they shall hop about on a single leg.' He spoke and
cut men in two, like a sorb-apple which is halved for pickling, or
as you might divide an egg with a hair; and as he cut them one after
another, he bade Apollo give the face and the half of the neck a turn
in order that the man might contemplate the section of himself: he would
thus learn a lesson of humility. Apollo was also bidden to heal their
wounds and compose their forms. So he gave a turn to the face and pulled
the skin from the sides all over that which in our language is called
the belly, like the purses which draw in, and he made one mouth at
the centre, which he fastened in a knot (the same which is called the
navel); he also moulded the breast and took out most of the wrinkles,
much as a shoemaker might smooth leather upon a last; he left a few,
however, in the region of the belly and navel, as a memorial of the
primeval state. After the division the two parts of man, each desiring
his other half, came together, and throwing their arms about one
another, entwined in mutual embraces, longing to grow into one, they
were on the point of dying from hunger and self-neglect, because they
did not like to do anything apart; and when one of the halves died and
the other survived, the survivor sought another mate, man or woman as
we call them,--being the sections of entire men or women,--and clung to
that. They were being destroyed, when Zeus in pity of them invented a
new plan: he turned the parts of generation round to the front, for this
had not been always their position, and they sowed the seed no longer as
hitherto like grasshoppers in the ground, but in one another; and after
the transposition the male generated in the female in order that by the
mutual embraces of man and woman they might breed, and the race might
continue; or if man came to man they might be satisfied, and rest, and
go their ways to the business of life: so ancient is the desire of one
another which is implanted in us, reuniting our original nature, making
one of two, and healing the state of man. Each of us when separated,
having one side only, like a flat fish, is but the indenture of a man,
and he is always looking for his other half. Men who are a section
of that double nature which was once called Androgynous are lovers of
women; adulterers are generally of this breed, and also adulterous women
who lust after men: the women who are a section of the woman do not care
for men, but have female attachments; the female companions are of this
sort. But they who are a section of the male follow the male, and while
they are young, being slices of the original man, they hang about men
and embrace them, and they are themselves the best of boys and youths,
because they have the most manly nature. Some indeed assert that they
are shameless, but this is not true; for they do not act thus from any
want of shame, but because they are valiant and manly, and have a manly
countenance, and they embrace that which is like them. And these when
they grow up become our statesmen, and these only, which is a great
proof of the truth of what I am saving. When they reach manhood they
are lovers of youth, and are not naturally inclined to marry or beget
children,--if at all, they do so only in obedience to the law; but they
are satisfied if they may be allowed to live with one another unwedded;
and such a nature is prone to love and ready to return love, always
embracing that which is akin to him. And when one of them meets with his
other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth
or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love
and friendship and intimacy, and one will not be out of the other's
sight, as I may say, even for a moment: these are the people who pass
their whole lives together; yet they could not explain what they desire
of one another. For the intense yearning which each of them has towards
the other does not appear to be the desire of lover's intercourse, but
of something else which the soul of either evidently desires and cannot
tell, and of which she has only a dark and doubtful presentiment.
Suppose Hephaestus, with his instruments, to come to the pair who are
lying side by side and to say to them, 'What do you people want of one
another?' they would be unable to explain. And suppose further, that
when he saw their perplexity he said: 'Do you desire to be wholly one;
always day and night to be in one another's company? for if this is what
you desire, I am ready to melt you into one and let you grow together,
so that being two you shall become one, and while you live live a common
life as if you were a single man, and after your death in the world
below still be one departed soul instead of two--I ask whether this
is what you lovingly desire, and whether you are satisfied to attain
this?'--there is not a man of them who when he heard the proposal would
deny or would not acknowledge that this meeting and melting into one
another, this becoming one instead of two, was the very expression of
his ancient need (compare Arist. Pol.). And the reason is that human
nature was originally one and we were a whole, and the desire and
pursuit of the whole is called love. There was a time, I say, when we
were one, but now because of the wickedness of mankind God has dispersed
us, as the Arcadians were dispersed into villages by the Lacedaemonians
(compare Arist. Pol.). And if we are not obedient to the gods, there is
a danger that we shall be split up again and go about in basso-relievo,
like the profile figures having only half a nose which are sculptured
on monuments, and that we shall be like tallies. Wherefore let us exhort
all men to piety, that we may avoid evil, and obtain the good, of which
Love is to us the lord and minister; and let no one oppose him--he is
the enemy of the gods who opposes him. For if we are friends of the God
and at peace with him we shall find our own true loves, which rarely
happens in this world at present. I am serious, and therefore I must beg
Eryximachus not to make fun or to find any allusion in what I am saying
to Pausanias and Agathon, who, as I suspect, are both of the manly
nature, and belong to the class which I have been describing. But my
words have a wider application--they include men and women everywhere;
and I believe that if our loves were perfectly accomplished, and each
one returning to his primeval nature had his original true love, then
our race would be happy. And if this would be best of all, the best
in the next degree and under present circumstances must be the nearest
approach to such an union; and that will be the attainment of a
congenial love. Wherefore, if we would praise him who has given to
us the benefit, we must praise the god Love, who is our greatest
benefactor, both leading us in this life back to our own nature, and
giving us high hopes for the future, for he promises that if we are
pious, he will restore us to our original state, and heal us and make
us happy and blessed. This, Eryximachus, is my discourse of love, which,
although different to yours, I must beg you to leave unassailed by the
shafts of your ridicule, in order that each may have his turn; each, or
rather either, for Agathon and Socrates are the only ones left.
Indeed, I am not going to attack you, said Eryximachus, for I thought
your speech charming, and did I not know that Agathon and Socrates are
masters in the art of love, I should be really afraid that they would
have nothing to say, after the world of things which have been said
already. But, for all that, I am not without hopes.
Socrates said: You played your part well, Eryximachus; but if you were
as I am now, or rather as I shall be when Agathon has spoken, you would,
indeed, be in a great strait.
You want to cast a spell over me, Socrates, said Agathon, in the hope
that I may be disconcerted at the expectation raised among the audience
that I shall speak well.
I should be strangely forgetful, Agathon replied Socrates, of the
courage and magnanimity which you showed when your own compositions were
about to be exhibited, and you came upon the stage with the actors and
faced the vast theatre altogether undismayed, if I thought that your
nerves could be fluttered at a small party of friends.
Do you think, Socrates, said Agathon, that my head is so full of the
theatre as not to know how much more formidable to a man of sense a few
good judges are than many fools?
Nay, replied Socrates, I should be very wrong in attributing to you,
Agathon, that or any other want of refinement. And I am quite aware that
if you happened to meet with any whom you thought wise, you would care
for their opinion much more than for that of the many. But then we,
having been a part of the foolish many in the theatre, cannot be
regarded as the select wise; though I know that if you chanced to be in
the presence, not of one of ourselves, but of some really wise man, you
would be ashamed of disgracing yourself before him--would you not?
Yes, said Agathon.
But before the many you would not be ashamed, if you thought that you
were doing something disgraceful in their presence?
Here Phaedrus interrupted them, saying: not answer him, my dear Agathon;
for if he can only get a partner with whom he can talk, especially a
good-looking one, he will no longer care about the completion of our
plan. Now I love to hear him talk; but just at present I must not forget
the encomium on Love which I ought to receive from him and from every
one. When you and he have paid your tribute to the god, then you may
talk.
Very good, Phaedrus, said Agathon; I see no reason why I should not
proceed with my speech, as I shall have many other opportunities of
conversing with Socrates. Let me say first how I ought to speak, and
then speak:--
The previous speakers, instead of praising the god Love, or unfolding
his nature, appear to have congratulated mankind on the benefits which
he confers upon them. But I would rather praise the god first, and then
speak of his gifts; this is always the right way of praising everything.
May I say without impiety or offence, that of all the blessed gods he
is the most blessed because he is the fairest and best? And he is the
fairest: for, in the first place, he is the youngest, and of his youth
he is himself the witness, fleeing out of the way of age, who is swift
enough, swifter truly than most of us like:--Love hates him and will not
come near him; but youth and love live and move together--like to like,
as the proverb says. Many things were said by Phaedrus about Love in
which I agree with him; but I cannot agree that he is older than Iapetus
and Kronos:--not so; I maintain him to be the youngest of the gods, and
youthful ever. The ancient doings among the gods of which Hesiod
and Parmenides spoke, if the tradition of them be true, were done of
Necessity and not of Love; had Love been in those days, there would have
been no chaining or mutilation of the gods, or other violence, but peace
and sweetness, as there is now in heaven, since the rule of Love began.
Love is young and also tender; he ought to have a poet like Homer to
describe his tenderness, as Homer says of Ate, that she is a goddess and
tender:--
'Her feet are tender, for she sets her steps, Not on the ground but on
the heads of men:'
herein is an excellent proof of her tenderness,--that she walks not
upon the hard but upon the soft. Let us adduce a similar proof of the
tenderness of Love; for he walks not upon the earth, nor yet upon the
skulls of men, which are not so very soft, but in the hearts and souls
of both gods and men, which are of all things the softest: in them
he walks and dwells and makes his home. Not in every soul without
exception, for where there is hardness he departs, where there is
softness there he dwells; and nestling always with his feet and in all
manner of ways in the softest of soft places, how can he be other than
the softest of all things? Of a truth he is the tenderest as well as
the youngest, and also he is of flexile form; for if he were hard and
without flexure he could not enfold all things, or wind his way into and
out of every soul of man undiscovered. And a proof of his flexibility
and symmetry of form is his grace, which is universally admitted to be
in an especial manner the attribute of Love; ungrace and love are always
at war with one another. The fairness of his complexion is revealed by
his habitation among the flowers; for he dwells not amid bloomless or
fading beauties, whether of body or soul or aught else, but in the place
of flowers and scents, there he sits and abides. Concerning the beauty
of the god I have said enough; and yet there remains much more which I
might say. Of his virtue I have now to speak: his greatest glory is that
he can neither do nor suffer wrong to or from any god or any man; for
he suffers not by force if he suffers; force comes not near him, neither
when he acts does he act by force. For all men in all things serve him
of their own free will, and where there is voluntary agreement, there,
as the laws which are the lords of the city say, is justice. And
not only is he just but exceedingly temperate, for Temperance is the
acknowledged ruler of the pleasures and desires, and no pleasure ever
masters Love; he is their master and they are his servants; and if he
conquers them he must be temperate indeed. As to courage, even the God
of War is no match for him; he is the captive and Love is the lord,
for love, the love of Aphrodite, masters him, as the tale runs; and the
master is stronger than the servant. And if he conquers the bravest of
all others, he must be himself the bravest. Of his courage and justice
and temperance I have spoken, but I have yet to speak of his wisdom; and
according to the measure of my ability I must try to do my best. In the
first place he is a poet (and here, like Eryximachus, I magnify my art),
and he is also the source of poesy in others, which he could not be if
he were not himself a poet. And at the touch of him every one becomes
a poet, even though he had no music in him before (A fragment of the
Sthenoaoea of Euripides.); this also is a proof that Love is a good poet
and accomplished in all the fine arts; for no one can give to another
that which he has not himself, or teach that of which he has no
knowledge. Who will deny that the creation of the animals is his doing?
Are they not all the works of his wisdom, born and begotten of him?
And as to the artists, do we not know that he only of them whom love
inspires has the light of fame?--he whom Love touches not walks
in darkness. The arts of medicine and archery and divination were
discovered by Apollo, under the guidance of love and desire; so that he
too is a disciple of Love. Also the melody of the Muses, the metallurgy
of Hephaestus, the weaving of Athene, the empire of Zeus over gods and
men, are all due to Love, who was the inventor of them. And so Love set
in order the empire of the gods--the love of beauty, as is evident, for
with deformity Love has no concern. In the days of old, as I began by
saying, dreadful deeds were done among the gods, for they were ruled
by Necessity; but now since the birth of Love, and from the Love of
the beautiful, has sprung every good in heaven and earth. Therefore,
Phaedrus, I say of Love that he is the fairest and best in himself, and
the cause of what is fairest and best in all other things. And there
comes into my mind a line of poetry in which he is said to be the god
who
'Gives peace on earth and calms the stormy deep, Who stills the winds
and bids the sufferer sleep.'
This is he who empties men of disaffection and fills them with
affection, who makes them to meet together at banquets such as these: in
sacrifices, feasts, dances, he is our lord--who sends courtesy and sends
away discourtesy, who gives kindness ever and never gives unkindness;
the friend of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the
gods; desired by those who have no part in him, and precious to those
who have the better part in him; parent of delicacy, luxury, desire,
fondness, softness, grace; regardful of the good, regardless of the
evil: in every word, work, wish, fear--saviour, pilot, comrade, helper;
glory of gods and men, leader best and brightest: in whose footsteps
let every man follow, sweetly singing in his honour and joining in that
sweet strain with which love charms the souls of gods and men. Such
is the speech, Phaedrus, half-playful, yet having a certain measure of
seriousness, which, according to my ability, I dedicate to the god.
When Agathon had done speaking, Aristodemus said that there was a
general cheer; the young man was thought to have spoken in a manner
worthy of himself, and of the god. And Socrates, looking at Eryximachus,
said: Tell me, son of Acumenus, was there not reason in my fears? and
was I not a true prophet when I said that Agathon would make a wonderful
oration, and that I should be in a strait?
The part of the prophecy which concerns Agathon, replied Eryximachus,
appears to me to be true; but not the other part--that you will be in a
strait.
Why, my dear friend, said Socrates, must not I or any one be in a strait
who has to speak after he has heard such a rich and varied discourse? I
am especially struck with the beauty of the concluding words--who could
listen to them without amazement? When I reflected on the immeasurable
inferiority of my own powers, I was ready to run away for shame, if
there had been a possibility of escape. For I was reminded of Gorgias,
and at the end of his speech I fancied that Agathon was shaking at me
the Gorginian or Gorgonian head of the great master of rhetoric, which
was simply to turn me and my speech into stone, as Homer says (Odyssey),
and strike me dumb. And then I perceived how foolish I had been in
consenting to take my turn with you in praising love, and saying that
I too was a master of the art, when I really had no conception how
anything ought to be praised. For in my simplicity I imagined that the
topics of praise should be true, and that this being presupposed, out
of the true the speaker was to choose the best and set them forth in the
best manner. And I felt quite proud, thinking that I knew the nature of
true praise, and should speak well. Whereas I now see that the intention
was to attribute to Love every species of greatness and glory,
whether really belonging to him or not, without regard to truth or
falsehood--that was no matter; for the original proposal seems to have
been not that each of you should really praise Love, but only that
you should appear to praise him. And so you attribute to Love every
imaginable form of praise which can be gathered anywhere; and you say
that 'he is all this,' and 'the cause of all that,' making him appear
the fairest and best of all to those who know him not, for you cannot
impose upon those who know him. And a noble and solemn hymn of praise
have you rehearsed. But as I misunderstood the nature of the praise when
I said that I would take my turn, I must beg to be absolved from the
promise which I made in ignorance, and which (as Euripides would say
(Eurip. Hyppolytus)) was a promise of the lips and not of the mind.
Farewell then to such a strain: for I do not praise in that way; no,
indeed, I cannot. But if you like to hear the truth about love, I
am ready to speak in my own manner, though I will not make myself
ridiculous by entering into any rivalry with you. Say then, Phaedrus,
whether you would like to have the truth about love, spoken in any words
and in any order which may happen to come into my mind at the time. Will
that be agreeable to you?
Aristodemus said that Phaedrus and the company bid him speak in
any manner which he thought best. Then, he added, let me have your
permission first to ask Agathon a few more questions, in order that I
may take his admissions as the premisses of my discourse.
I grant the permission, said Phaedrus: put your questions. Socrates then
proceeded as follows:--
In the magnificent oration which you have just uttered, I think that you
were right, my dear Agathon, in proposing to speak of the nature of Love
first and afterwards of his works--that is a way of beginning which I
very much approve. And as you have spoken so eloquently of his nature,
may I ask you further, Whether love is the love of something or of
nothing? And here I must explain myself: I do not want you to say that
love is the love of a father or the love of a mother--that would be
ridiculous; but to answer as you would, if I asked is a father a father
of something? to which you would find no difficulty in replying, of a
son or daughter: and the answer would be right.
Very true, said Agathon.
And you would say the same of a mother?
He assented.
Yet let me ask you one more question in order to illustrate my meaning:
Is not a brother to be regarded essentially as a brother of something?
Certainly, he replied.
That is, of a brother or sister?
Yes, he said.
And now, said Socrates, I will ask about Love:--Is Love of something or
of nothing?
Of something, surely, he replied.
Keep in mind what this is, and tell me what I want to know--whether Love
desires that of which love is.
Yes, surely.
And does he possess, or does he not possess, that which he loves and
desires?
Probably not, I should say.
Nay, replied Socrates, I would have you consider whether 'necessarily'
is not rather the word. The inference that he who desires something
is in want of something, and that he who desires nothing is in want of
nothing, is in my judgment, Agathon, absolutely and necessarily true.
What do you think?