SPEAKERS

CAPHEISIAS, a Theban (brother of Epaminondas), who tells the story

of the return.

TIMOTHEUS., Athenian

ARCHIDAMUS., Athenian

THE SONS OF ARCHINUS., Athenian

LYSITHEIDES., Athenian

OTHER FRIENDS.

I. _Archidamus._ I once heard a painter, Capheisias, say a [Sidenote: B]

striking thing about the different people who come to view pictures,

which he put as a simile. Spectators with no technical knowledge, he

said, are like those who greet a large company in the mass; others, who

possess fine taste and a love of art, resemble those who have a personal

word for all comers. The former get only a general view of the works

before them, which is never accurate; the latter discuss each piece

critically and in detail, and no point of execution, good or bad,

escapes inspection and remark. Now I think that it is just the same with

the [Sidenote: C] actions of real life. Duller minds are satisfied if

they learn from history the summary account of what occurred and its

outcome; lovers of what is honourable and beautiful take keener delight

in hearing all particulars of the performances inspired by that great

Art Virtue. To the actual result, Fortune has much to say; but he who

dwells on causes and particulars sees Virtue at odds with circumstance,

acts of rational daring done in the face of danger, and calculation

meeting opportunity and passion. Take it that we belong to the second

class. Begin at the beginning of the enterprise, and give us all the

incidents and [Sidenote: D] all the speeches which were no doubt

delivered in your presence; and believe that I would not have hesitated

to go to Thebes on purpose to hear the story, but that the Athenians are

already beginning to think me too much of a Boeotian.

_Capheisias._ Indeed, Archidamus, since you are so kind as to press for

the whole story, it would be my duty to make it, as Pindar[21] says, ‘a

call before all business’ to come here to tell it; but as we are brought

here on an embassy, and have nothing to do until we receive the answers

of the people, I feel that any reluctance or embarrassment on my part

towards so kind and good a friend might well wake up the old reproach

against the Boeotians that they hate discussion. It was already fading

[Sidenote: E] away, thanks to your Socrates; but our own care for

Lysis,[22] of blessed memory, showed us true enthusiasts. But see whom

we have present: is it convenient to them to listen to so long a story

and to so many speeches? The narrative is not a short one, since you

yourself bid me include the speeches.

_Archidamus._ You do not know these friends, Capheisias? No, but you

should; sons of good fathers who were good friends to your people. This

is Lysitheides, nephew of Thrasybulus; [Sidenote: F] this is Timotheus,

Conon’s son; these are the sons of Archinus; the others are all of our

brotherhood; so your story finds a friendly and congenial audience.

_Capheisias._ That is well. But what should you think a good point for

me to start from, in view of what you know already?

_Archidamus._ We know fairly well, Capheisias, how things were at Thebes

before the return of the exiles. We had heard at Athens how Archias and

Leontides persuaded Phoebidas to [Sidenote: 576] seize the Cadmeia

during a truce; how they expelled some of the citizens and terrorized

others, and seized office for themselves in defiance of law. We were the

personal hosts here of Melon and Pelopidas, and constantly in their

company so long as they were in exile. Again, we had heard how the

Lacedaemonians fined Phoebidas for seizing the Cadmeia, removed him from

the command against Olynthus, and then replaced him at Thebes by

Lysanoridas and two others, and kept a stronger garrison than before in

the Citadel. We were aware, too, how Ismenias met an unworthy death,

since, immediately after his trial, Gorgidas wrote the whole account in

a letter to the [Sidenote: B] exiles here. Thus it remains for you to

tell us about the actual return of our friends and the capture of the

tyrants.

II. _Capheisias._ Well then, Archidamus, during those days, all of us

who were concerned in the movement were accustomed to meet for

conference when necessary in the house of Simmias, who was recovering

from a wound in the leg; ostensibly passing the time in philosophical

talk, into which, as a blind, we often drew Archias and Leontides, men

not altogether strangers to [Sidenote: C] such discussion. For Simmias

had spent much time abroad, and wandered among men of other lands, and

had shortly before this returned to Thebes full of all sorts of stories

and outlandish accounts. These stories Archias used to enjoy when he

chanced to have leisure, taking his seat with the young men, and liking

us to pass the time in talk rather than attend to their proceedings. On

the day upon which the exiles were to reach the walls at dusk, a man

came in from here, sent by Pherenicus, known to none of our party except

Charon; he proceeded to explain that the younger exiles, twelve in

number, had taken hounds to hunt the Cithaeron country, intending to

reach Thebes towards evening. He had been sent, he said, in advance

[Sidenote: D] to tell us this, and to find out who was to provide the

house for their concealment on arrival, so that they might have notice

and go straight to it. While we were puzzling it over, Charon agreed to

provide his own house. So the man settled to return to the exiles as

fast as he could.

III. Here the prophet Theocritus pressed my hand hard, and looking at

Charon, who was walking in front, said: ‘This man is no philosopher,

Capheisias; he has received no extraordinary training, as Epaminondas

your brother has; yet you see how he is naturally drawn by the laws

towards the nobler [Sidenote: E] course, volunteering to encounter the

greatest danger for our country’s sake. Whereas Epaminondas, who claims

to have been trained to virtue above all Boeotians, is dull and

spiritless;[23] what better opportunity than this will he ever have to

bring into play his fine gifts and training?’ I said: ‘Not so fast,

[Sidenote: F] Theocritus the eager! We are carrying out what we

ourselves resolved; but Epaminondas, failing to persuade us to drop the

plan, as he thinks would be best, naturally resists when invited to a

course of action which he dislikes and disapproves. Suppose a physician

undertook to cure a disease without the use of knife or fire: you would

not be using him fairly, to my thinking, if you compelled him to cut or

burn.[24] Very well; my brother, as you know, will not have any citizen

die without a trial, yet is eager to work with those who wish to free

the city from internal bloodshed and slaughter. As, however, he fails to

convince the majority, and as we have embarked on this course, he bids

you let him stand out, clear and guiltless of murder, and free to watch

opportunities; when justice and expediency [Sidenote: 577] meet, he will

strike in. He feels that, work once begun, there will be no limitations;

perhaps Pherenicus and Pelopidas will turn their attack against the

greatest criminals, but Eumolpidas and Samidas, men of fire and passion,

when night puts power in their hands, will not sheathe their swords

before they have filled the city with murder from end to end, and

dispatched many of our leading men.

IV. While I was thus conversing with Theocritus, Galaxidorus kept trying

to check us;[25] Archias was near, and Lysanoridas the Spartan, both

walking quickly from the Cadmeia, [Sidenote: B] apparently towards the

same point as ourselves. So we broke off; Archias called Theocritus, and

drew him towards Lysanoridas; then he talked a long time with them

apart, having changed his direction a little towards the Amphion. Thus

we were in an agony: had some hint or information reached them, upon

which they were questioning Theocritus? In the meanwhile Phyllidas, whom

you know, Archidamus, and who was at that time acting as clerk to

Archias and the Polemarchs, and knew of the expected arrival of the

exiles,[26] being privy to our scheme, pressed my hand as it was his way

to do, and went on with bantering talk for every one’s benefit, about

the gymnasia and the wrestling; then, having drawn me some distance from

the others, he began to ask me about the exiles, and whether [Sidenote:

C] they were keeping to their day. When I said that they were, he

continued: ‘Then I have done right in preparing for to-day the party at

which I mean to entertain Archias, and to deliver him into their hand in

his cups.’ ‘Better than right, Phyllidas!’ I said; ‘and do you try to

collect all or as many as you can of our enemies to the same place.’

‘That is not easy;’ said he, ‘indeed, it is impossible; for Archias,

expecting that a certain lady of high rank will come there to meet him,

does not wish Leontides to be present. We must therefore mark [Sidenote:

D] them down to separate houses. If Archias and Leontides are once

captured, I think that the others will take themselves off, or else will

remain quiet, glad to close with any offer of safety.’ ‘We will do so,’

I said, ‘but what can Theocritus have to talk about with these people?’

‘I cannot answer clearly or from knowledge,’ said Phyllidas, ‘but I

heard portents mentioned and prophecies disastrous to Sparta.’

[27][Meanwhile Theocritus rejoined us, and] Pheidolaus of Haliartus came

up and said, ‘Simmias wants you to wait hereabouts a little. He is

closeted with Leontides, interceding for Amphitheus to get his sentence

of death commuted, if possible, to exile.’

V. ‘The very man!’ said Theocritus. ‘You might [Sidenote: E] have come

on purpose, for I was longing to hear what the discoveries were, and

about the general appearance of the tomb of Alcmena in your country when

it was opened, if you were really present yourself when Agesilaus sent

and removed the remains to Sparta.’ Pheidolaus answered: ‘I was not

present; and vexed and indignant I was with my citizens for leaving me

out. However, no vestige of a body was found, only a bracelet of brass,

not a large one, and two earthenware jars containing [Sidenote: F] earth

which had become solid as stone. Above the tomb lay a brass plate, with

many letters wonderful for their great antiquity; they afforded no

intelligible sense, though they came out clear to the eye when the brass

was washed. The characters were of a peculiar and barbaric type, most

closely resembling the Egyptian; and Agesilaus accordingly, as they

said, sent copies to the king of Egypt, asking him to show them to the

priests, on the chance of their understanding them. However, Simmias

may, perhaps, have something to tell you about all this, as he was at

that time in Egypt, and philosophy [Sidenote: 578] brought him much into

the society of the priests. But the people of Haliartus believe that the

great scarcity of crops and the advance of the lake were not accidental,

but were an angry visitation because they allowed the tomb to be dug

open.’ After a short pause Theocritus went on: ‘Nor yet are the

Lacedaemonians themselves clear of the wrath of heaven, as is shown by

the portents about which Lysanoridas was lately conferring with us. He

is now off to Haliartus to fill in the [Sidenote: B] tomb again and to

offer libations to Alcmena and Aleus, of course in accordance with some

oracle, not knowing who Aleus was. When he comes back from there he

intends to investigate the tomb of Dirce, which is unknown to the

Thebans, except those who have acted as Hipparchs. The outgoing

magistrate takes his successor in office, with no one else present, and

shows it him at night; they perform certain fireless rites over the

tomb, carefully obliterate all traces, and go off under cover of

darkness by separate ways. And much chance, I think, they will have of

finding it, Pheidolaus! For most of those who have served legally as

Hipparchs are now in exile; I might say all, except [Sidenote: C]

Gorgidas and Plato, whom they fear too much to examine. But the present

magistrates receive the spear and the seal in the Cadmeia, and know

absolutely nothing.’

VI. While Theocritus was saying this, Leontides was going out with his

friends. We entered, and began to pay our compliments to Simmias, who

was sitting on the couch, having been unsuccessful in his petition, I

think, for he seemed wrapped in thought and much annoyed. Looking hard

at us all, ‘Hercules!’ [Sidenote: D] he said, ‘what savage barbarous

manners! How right, and more than right, old Thales was, when he came

home from a long absence abroad, and his friends asked what was his

rarest discovery, “An aged tyrant”, he said! For every one, even if he

have not been personally wronged, is disgusted at mere oppression, and

harshness, and so is an enemy to lawless irresponsible dynasties. Well,

the God will see to this, perhaps; now, Capheisias, about your newcomer,

do you know who he is?’ ‘I do not know’, said I, ‘whom you mean.’ ‘Yet

Leontides tells us’, he said, ‘that a man has been seen by the tomb of

Lysis, rising to go when night was done. His retinue and [Sidenote: E]

equipment were stately. He had bivouacked there on a rough bed, for

piles of agnus castus and tamarisk were visible, and also remains of

burnt sacrifices and libations of milk. At dawn he asked those who met

him whether he should find the sons of Polymnis in the country.’ ‘But

who can the stranger be?’ I said; ‘from what you tell us it must be some

uncommon person, one in no private station.’

VII. ‘Certainly not’, said Pheidolaus. ‘However, when he comes we will

see to his reception. Now, as to those characters, Simmias, about which

we were puzzling just now. If you know more than we do, tell us; for it

is said that the Egyptian priests have made out the letters on the plate

which Agesilaus [Sidenote: F] took from us when he opened the tomb of

Alcmena.’ Simmias remembered at once. ‘I know nothing of that plate,

Pheidolaus;’ he said, ‘but Agenoridas the Spartan brought a number of

characters from Agesilaus to Memphis, to Chonuphis the prophet, with

whom Plato and I and Hellopion of Peparethus were staying to enjoy

Philosophy together. He had been sent by the king, who desired

Chonuphis, if he could make anything out of the inscription, to

interpret and return it quickly. After spending three days in

retirement, reading up characters from all countries in ancient books,

he wrote his answer to the king. [Sidenote: 579] He explained to us that

this inscription directs the holding of a competition in honour of the

Muses. The characters belonged to the system of the reign of Proteus,

the one learnt by Hercules the son of Amphitryon. The God therein

directs and charges the Greeks to observe a time of peace and leisure,

spending it in continuous philosophical debate, with the help of the

Muses and of Reason, for the decision of points relating to Justice, all

arms being laid aside. We thought at the time that what Chonuphis said

was good, and we thought so still more when, in our journey from Egypt

round Caria, we met certain Delians [Sidenote: B] who begged Plato, as a

geometrician, to solve the problem propounded in a mysterious oracle of

the God. The oracle was this: “The Delians and the other Greeks shall

have respite from their present ills when they have doubled the altar at

Delos.” The Delians were unable to guess the meaning, and, moreover, had

brought themselves into a ludicrous difficulty about the construction of

the altar. They had doubled each of the four sides,[28] and so

unconsciously produced a solid figure eight times greater than the

original, in ignorance of the factor which must be applied to the side,

in order to double the solid. [Sidenote: C] So they appealed to Plato

for help in the difficulty. Plato, remembering the Egyptian, said that

the God was rallying the Greeks on their neglect of liberal studies,

mocking our ignorance, and commanding us to take up geometry in real

earnest; that it required no slight or dim-sighted intellect, but a

first-rate training in linear geometry, to find two mean proportionals,

the only method by which a solid in the form of a cube can be doubled,

if all its dimensions are to be increased uniformly. Eudoxus of Cnidos,

he said, or Helicon of Cyzicus, would work this out for them.[29]

However, in his opinion, the God did not desire this; he was enjoining

all the Greeks to cease from war [Sidenote: D] and trouble and devote

themselves to the Muses, to soften their passions by discussions and

Mathematics, and to associate profitably with one another.’

VIII. While Simmias was speaking, our father Polymnis came in upon us.

He sat down by Simmias and said: ‘Epaminondas invites you and all

present, if you have no more pressing engagement, to wait hereabouts; he

wants to introduce to you the stranger, a man noble himself, and brought

here by a noble and generous errand. He comes from the Pythagoreans of

[Sidenote: E] Italy, to pour offerings on the tomb of old Lysis, in

accordance, as he says, with certain dreams and clear visions. He brings

a large sum in gold, thinking that Epaminondas ought to be reimbursed

for the care of Lysis in his old age, and on this he insists most

keenly, though we neither ask nor wish assistance for our poverty.’

Simmias was pleased: ‘A really wonderful man,’ he said, ‘and worthy of

Philosophy; but what is the reason that he has not come straight to us?’

‘He passed the night, I think,’ said he, ‘near the tomb of Lysis;

Epaminondas [Sidenote: F] was to take him on to the Ismenus to bathe,

and then they will come on to us here. Before he met us, he had made his

night’s lodging near the tomb, intending to take up the remains and

convey them to Italy, unless prevented by some divine warning in the

night.’ Having said this, my father was silent.

IX. Then Galaxidorus spoke: ‘Hercules! how hard it is to find a man

quite free from vanity and superstition! Some are caught by these

weaknesses against their will, owing to want of experience or of

strength. Others, in order to appear singular and to be taken for

friends of the Gods, bring the divine into all they do, making dreams

and portents and such stuff a pretext for anything that enters their

head. Now, to men in public [Sidenote: 580] stations, who are compelled

to adapt their lives to a self-willed and petulant multitude, this may

have its advantage; superstition is a bit wherewith to check a populace,

and direct it to what is expedient. But to Philosophy such posturing is

unbecoming in itself, and, moreover, it contradicts her professions; she

undertakes to teach all that is good and expedient by the reason, and

then, as though in despite of reason, goes back upon the Gods and away

from the first principles of action; and, dishonouring demonstration, in

which her own excellence is supposed to lie, turns to prophecies and

visions seen in dreams, [Sidenote: B] things in which the weakest often

have as great success as the strongest. This, I think, Simmias, is why

your Socrates embraced a system of intellectual training which bore a

more philosophical stamp, choosing that simple artless type as being

liberal and most friendly to truth; and casting to the winds for the

sophists, as a mere smoke from Philosophy, all pretentious nonsense.’

Theocritus broke in: ‘What, Galaxidorus, and has Meletus persuaded even

you too that Socrates despised [Sidenote: C] what was divine, for that

was the charge which he actually brought before the Athenians?’ ‘What

was divine—no;’ he said, ‘but he received Philosophy from Pythagoras and

Empedocles full of visions and myths and superstitions, and deeply

dipped in mysteries; and trained her to look at facts, and be sensible,

and pursue truth in soberness of reason.’

X. ‘Granted;’ said Theocritus, ‘but as to the Divine Sign of Socrates,

good friend, are we to call it a falsity or what? To me, nothing

recorded about Pythagoras seems to go so far towards the prophetic and

divine. For, in plain words, as Homer has drawn Athena to Odysseus

_In all his toils a presence and a stay_,[30]

even so, apparently, did the spirit attach to Socrates, from the first,

a sort of vision to go before and guide his steps in life, which alone

_Passing before him shed a light around_[31]

[Sidenote: D] in matters of uncertainty, too hard for the wit of man to

solve; upon these the spirit used often to converse with him, adding a

divine touch to his own resolutions. For more, and more important,

instances you must ask Simmias and the other companions of Socrates. But

I was myself present, having come to stay with Euthyphron the prophet,

when Socrates, as you remember, Simmias, was going up to the Symbolum

and the house of Andocides, asking some question as he walked and

playfully cross-examining Euthyphron. Suddenly he stopped and closed his

lips tightly[32] and was wrapt in thought for some time. Then he turned

back and took the way through the [Sidenote: E] Trunkmakers’ Street, and

tried to recall those of our friends who were already in advance, saying

that the Sign was upon him. Most of them turned in a body, amongst whom

was I, keeping close to Euthyphron. But some young members of the party,

no doubt to put the Sign of Socrates to the test, held on, and drew into

their number Charillus the flute-player, who had come to Athens with

myself, staying with Cebes. Now as they were going through the street of

the Statuaries near the Law Courts, they were met by a whole herd of

swine loaded with mud and hustling one another by press of numbers.

There was no [Sidenote: F] getting out of the way; on they charged,

upsetting some, bespattering others. At any rate, Charillus came home

with his clothes full of mud and his legs too, so that we always laugh

when we remember Socrates and his Sign, and wonder that this divine

presence of his should never fail him or forget.’

XI. Then Galaxidorus said: ‘Do you think then, Theocritus, that the Sign

of Socrates possessed a special and extraordinary power, not that some

fragment of the ready wit which we all share determined him by an

empiric process, turning the scale of his reasoning in cases which were

uncertain and incalculable? For as a single weight does not by itself

incline the balance, but, if added to one scale when the weights are

even, sinks the whole of that one on its own side, so [Sidenote: 581] a

cry, or any such feather-weight sign, will fit[33] a mind already

weighted, and draw it into action; and when two trains of thought are in

conflict, it reinforces one, and solves the difficulty by removing the

equality, so that there is a movement and an inclination.’ My father

broke in: ‘Well, but I have myself heard, Galaxidorus, from a certain

Megarian, who had it from Terpsion, that the Sign of Socrates was a

sneeze, proceeding either from himself or from other persons; if some

one else sneezed on his [Sidenote: B] right, whether behind or in front,

it encouraged him to the action; if on the left, it warned him off it.

Of his own sneezings there was one kind which confirmed his purpose when

he was still intending to act; another stopped him when he was already

acting and checked his impulse. The wonder to me is that if he made use

of a sneeze he did not so call it to his companions, but was in the

habit of saying that what checked or commanded him was a Divine Sign.

For that would be like vanity and idle boasting, not like truth and

simplicity, in which lay, as we suppose, his greatness and his

superiority to men in general, to be disturbed by a sound from outside

or a casual sneeze, and so be diverted from acting, and give up what he

had resolved. [Sidenote: C] Now the impulses of Socrates, on the other

hand, show firmness and intensity in every direction, as though issuing

from a right and powerful judgement and principle. Thus for a man to

remain in voluntary poverty all his life, when he might have had plenty,

and the givers would have been pleased and thankful, and never to swerve

from Philosophy in the face of all those hindrances; and at last, when

the zeal and ingenuity of his friends had made his way easy to safety

and retreat, not to be bent by their entreaties, nor yield to the near

approach of [Sidenote: D] death—all this is not like a man whose

judgement might be changed by random voices or sneezings; it is like one

led to what is noble by some greater and more sovereign authority. I

hear also that he foretold to some of his friends the disaster which

befell the power of Athens in Sicily. At a still earlier time,

Pyrilampes, the son of Antiphon, when taken prisoner in the pursuit near

Delium, after having received from us a javelin wound, as soon as he had

heard from those who had arrived from Athens to arrange the truce that

Socrates had returned home in safety by The Gullies[34] with Alcibiades

and Laches, often called upon him by name, and often on friends and

comrades of [Sidenote: E] his own who had fled with him by way of

Parnes, and been slain by our cavalry; they had disobeyed the Sign of

Socrates, he said, in turning from the battle by a different way instead

of following his lead. This, I think, Simmias too must have heard.’

‘Often,’ said Simmias, ‘and from many persons. For there was no little

noise at Athens about the Sign of Socrates in consequence.’

XII. ‘Well, then, Simmias,’ said Pheidolaus, ‘are we to allow

Galaxidorus in his jesting way to bring down this great fact of

divination to sneezings and cries, which plenty of common [Sidenote: F]

ignorant persons apply to trifles in mere sport, whereas, when grave

dangers overtake them, or more serious business, we may quote

Euripides:[35]

_These follies have a truce when steel is near_‘?

Galaxidorus said: ‘I am quite ready to listen to Simmias on this

subject, Pheidolaus, if he has himself heard Socrates speak about it,

and to join you in believing; but as for all that you and Polymnis have

mentioned, it is not hard to refute it. For as in medicine a throb or a

pimple is a small matter, but is the indication of what is not small;

and as to a pilot the cry of a bird from the open sea, or the scudding

of a thin film of cloud, [Sidenote: 582] signifies wind and rougher

seas, so to a prophetic soul a sneeze or a voice is nothing great in

itself, but is the sign of a great conjuncture. There is no art in which

it is thought contemptible to forecast great things by small, many

things through few. Suppose a man ignorant of the meaning of letters

were to see a few insignificant-looking characters, and to refuse to

believe that one who knew grammar could, by their help, repeat the story

of great wars between old-world peoples, and foundings of cities, and

what kings did or suffered, and then were to say [Sidenote: B] that a

voice, or something like a voice, revealed and repeated each of these

things to that historian, a pleasant laugh would come over your face, my

friend, at the ignorance of that man. Now, consider, may it not be so

with us? In our ignorance of the meaning of different things by which

the prophetic art hits the coming event, are we simple enough to rebel

if a man of intellect uses them to reveal something not yet evident, and

says, moreover, that a Divine Sign, not a sneeze or a voice, directs him

to the facts? For now I turn to you, Polymnis, who wonder that Socrates,

a man who did so very much to make Philosophy human by simplicity and

absence of cant, should [Sidenote: C] have named his Sign, not a sneeze

or a voice, but, in full tragic phrase, his Divine Sign. I, on the

contrary, should be surprised if a man so excellent in Dialectic and

mastery of terms had said that the sneeze and not the Divine Sign gave

him the intimation. As if a man were to say that he had been wounded “by

the javelin”, not “by the thrower with his javelin”, or, again, that the

weight had been measured “by the balance”, not “by the weigher with his

balance”. For the work is not the work of the tool but of the owner of

the tool which he uses for the work; and the Sign is a kind of tool used

by the signifying power. But, as I said, if Simmias should have anything

to tell us we must listen, for his knowledge is more exact.’

XIII. Then Theocritus said: ‘Yes, but first let us see [Sidenote: D] who

these persons are who are coming in; or, rather, it is surely

Epaminondas bringing the stranger to us.’ We looked towards the doors,

and saw Epaminondas leading the way, then Ismenidorus, Bacchylidas, and

Melissus the flute-player, all of them our friends and confederates;

then the stranger followed, a man of much nobility of mien, but with a

gentle and kindly character apparent beneath it, and dressed in a grave

fashion. He took his seat by Simmias, my brother next to me, and the

rest as they found places. Then, when there was silence, Simmias called

on my brother: ‘Well, Epaminondas, how are we to address our friend? Who

and what is he, and [Sidenote: E] whence? That is the usual formula for

beginning an introduction and an acquaintance.’[36] Epaminondas replied:

‘Theanor is his name, Simmias, and his family is of Crotona, where he

belongs to the local school of Philosophy and does no discredit to the

great fame of Pythagoras; he has just taken the long journey from Italy

here, to confirm noble doctrines by noble acts.’ The stranger broke in:

‘Indeed, Epaminondas, you are now hindering the noblest of all actions.

For if to confer a benefit on friends be noble, it is no shame to

receive [Sidenote: F] one from them. A favour needs one to receive, no

less than one to bestow it; both must join to ensure a noble result. It

is like a ball well delivered; to allow it to drop idle to the ground is

to shame it. Now what mark is there for a ball, so agreeable for the

thrower to hit and so distressing to miss, as a man at whom one aims a

favour when he well deserves it? But in the one case the mark stands

still, and he who misses has himself to thank; in the other, he who

excuses himself and swerves aside does a wrong to the favour which never

reaches its goal. You have yourself heard fully from me the reasons of

my voyage here; but I should like to go through the story [Sidenote:

583] as fully to those now present, and let them be judges between us.

‘When the Pythagoreans had been overpowered by faction in the different

cities, and their brotherhoods expelled, and when the party of Cylon had

piled up a fire round a house in Metapontum in which those still settled

there were holding a meeting, and had dispatched all those in the place

except Philolaus and Lysis, who were still young, and were strong enough

and active enough to push through the fire, Philolaus escaped thence to

Lucania and joined in safety the rest of our friends, who were by this

time rallying and holding their own against the Cylonians. Where Lysis

was, no one knew for a long time; however, Gorgias of Leontini, sailing

back from [Sidenote: B] Greece to Sicily, brought certain news to

Arcesus and his friends that he had met Lysis, who was staying near

Thebes. Arcesus longed to see the man, and was eager to sail straight

off himself; but being quite disabled by age and infirmity, gave orders

to bring Lysis alive to Italy if possible, or his remains if he should

have died. Then came wars, revolutions, and periods of tyranny which

made it impossible for the friends to perform the task in his lifetime.

But when the spirit of Lysis, now dead, had shown us clearly of his end,

and well informed persons told us of all the care and entertainment

which he had [Sidenote: C] received from your family, Polymnis; how

richly his age had been cared for in a poor house, and how he had been

adopted as father to your sons before his blessed end came, I was sent

out, a young man and alone, to represent many of my elders who have

money and wish to offer it to those who have not, in return for favour

and friendship richly bestowed. Lysis lies where you have honourably

laid him; yet the honour of that tomb is greater when recompense is made

for it to friends by friends dear and close.’

XIV. While the stranger was speaking thus, my father wept a long while

over the memory of Lysis, but my brother [Sidenote: D] with his usual

gentle smile said to me: ‘What is it to be, Capheisias? Are we to

surrender poverty to riches, and to say nothing?’ ‘No! no!’ said I, ‘the

dear “good nurse of young manhood”[37]—to her rescue! it is your turn to

speak.’ ‘See, father;’ he said, ‘that was the only side on which I used

to fear that our house might be captured by money. I mean through

Capheisias and his person, which needs beautiful clothes that he may

make a brave show before all his admiring friends, and needs food of the

best, and plenty of it, that he may have strength for the gymnasia and

wrestling matches. Now that he does not betray poverty, or throw off our

ancestral poverty like a coat of paint, but, boy though he is, goes

proudly [Sidenote: E] in thrift, and is content with what we have, to

what possible use could we put money? Shall we plate our armour, say,

with gold, and make the shield gay with purple and gold together, as

Nicias of Athens did?[38] Shall we buy you, father, a Milesian cloak, or

a dress with a purple border for mother? You know, we are not likely to

spend the present on our table, or to feast ourselves more sumptuously,

as having admitted a guest of such importance as wealth.’ ‘Away with it,

boy!’ said my father, ‘never may I see our life new-modelled like that!’

[Sidenote: F] ‘No,’ my brother went on, ‘nor will we sit idle at home

and guard our wealth; that would be a “boonless boon”[39] indeed, and a

getting with no honour to it.’ ‘Of course’, said our father. ‘You know,’

Epaminondas went on, ‘when Jason, the Thessalian Tagus, lately sent a

large sum of money here to us and begged us to take it, he thought me

something of a boor when I answered that he was making the first move in

wrong and robbery, when a lover of monarchy like himself tempted with

money a private citizen of a free self-governed state. From you, Sir, I

accept your generous intention, and admire it [Sidenote: 584] more than

I can say; it is beautiful and philosophical too; but you are bringing

medicines to friends who are not sick! Suppose that you had heard that

we were attacked in war, and had sailed with arms and ammunition to help

us, and on arrival had found that all was friendliness and peace; you

would not think it necessary to hand over the stores and leave them

where they were not needed. Even so, you have come to be our ally

against poverty, thinking that we were pinched by her, but there is none

so easy to be endured as she, our dear fellow-lodger. [Sidenote: B] So

no need for money or arms against her who vexes us not. Take back this

message to your brotherhood: that they themselves use their wealth most

nobly, but that there are friends here who make noble use of poverty:

and that, as to the entertainment of Lysis and his burial, Lysis has

paid the score in full for himself, not least by teaching us not to fret

at poverty.’

XV. Theanor broke in: ‘Then, if it is ignoble to fret at poverty, is it

not eccentric to fear and shun wealth?’ ‘Eccentric it is if it is

rejected on no rational grounds, but in order to pose or because of

insipid taste or affectation of some kind.’ ‘But what rational grounds’,

he said, ‘could bar the getting of wealth by good and honest means,

Epaminondas? Or rather—and surrender more gently than you did to the

Thessalian in [Sidenote: C] answering our questions about these

matters—tell me whether you think that the giving of money may sometimes

be right, but the receiving never; or that givers and receivers alike

are in all cases wrong?’ ‘No, no!’ said Epaminondas, ‘I hold that, as

with everything else, so with wealth; there is a giving and a getting

which are ugly, and a giving and a getting which are fine.’ ‘Then,’ said

Theanor, ‘when a man gives readily and heartily what he owes, is not

that beautiful?’ He assented. ‘But when one receives what another

beautifully gives, is not the taking beautiful? Or could there be a

fairer taking of [Sidenote: D] money than when it comes from one who

gives fairly?’ ‘There could not’, he said. ‘Then of two friends,

Epaminondas,’ said he, ‘if one is to give, it looks as if the other must

take. For in battles one must swerve away from a marksman in the enemy’s

ranks; in the conflict of benefits it is not fair to avoid or thrust

aside the friend who nobly gives. For, if poverty is no affliction, yet

wealth, on its side, is not a thing to be flouted and refused like

that.’ ‘It is not,’ said Epaminondas, ‘but there is a case where the

gift which may be nobly offered remains more honoured and more noble if

it is refused. Look at it with us in this way: you will allow that there

are many desires, and desires of many things; some inborn, as we call

them, which grow up about the body and are directed towards its

necessary pleasures; others adventitious, grounded on mere fancies, but

[Sidenote: E] gaining strength and power by time and use, where there is

vicious education, and often dragging down the soul more forcibly than

do those which are necessary. Now, by habits and training, men have

before now succeeded in drawing off and subjecting to reason, in great

measure, the innate affections. But the whole force of discipline, my

friend, must be brought to bear against those which are adventitious and

extraordinary; we must work them out, and hack them off, and use

restraints and checks to school them to reason. For if thirst and hunger

are forced out by rational resistance in the matter of food and

[Sidenote: F] drink, far easier surely is it to stunt, and in the end to

annihilate, love of wealth and love of glory by refusing and prohibiting

the things at which they aim. Do you not agree?’ The stranger assented.

‘Then, do you see a distinction’, Epaminondas went on, ‘between training

and the intended result of the training? Thus the result of athletic

exercise would be the contest against a competitor for the crown;

training would be the preparation of the body for this contest of the

gymnasia. So with virtue, do you allow that there are two things, the

result and the training?’ The stranger assented. ‘Now then,’ Epaminondas

resumed, ‘tell me first with respect to temperance; do you take

abstinence from base and lawless pleasures [Sidenote: 585] to be a

training, or rather a result and a proof of training?’ ‘A result and a

proof’, he said. ‘But it is a training or study in temperance—is it

not?—which still draws all of you on when you go to the gymnasia and

have stirred up your desires for food, as though they were wild beasts,

and then stand for a long time over bright tables with a variety of

dishes, and at last pass the good cheer for your servants to enjoy,

offering to your own now chastened appetites only what is plain and

simple, since abstinence from pleasures in things allowed is a training

for the soul against pleasures which are forbidden?’ ‘No doubt’, he

said. ‘Then there is, friend, a way of training ourselves for [Sidenote:

B] justice against the love of wealth and money; I do not mean never to

enter our neighbour’s premises by night and steal his goods, and never

to take his clothes at the bath; nor yet if a man does not betray

country and friends for money is he training himself against

covetousness (since here, perhaps, the law comes in and fear, to hinder

greediness from doing acts of wrong). No, the man who often and

voluntarily sets himself aloof from gains which are just and are allowed

by law is training and habituating himself in advance to keep his

distance from every gain which is unrighteous and forbidden. For as,

when it encounters great pleasures which are also strange and hurtful,

the mind cannot avoid a flutter unless it has often despised [Sidenote:

C] permitted enjoyments, so to pass by vicious gains and great

advancement when they come within reach is not easy, unless from a great

way off the love of gain has been fettered and chastened; whereas, if it

has been brought up to gain, and there has been no check on its license,

it makes a riotous growth towards all iniquity, and only with the

greatest effort is it withheld from grasping an advantage. But if a man

does not surrender himself to the favours of friends or to the bounties

of kings, but has said no even to an inheritance which Fortune offers,

and has put far off that love of wealth which springs up to meet a

treasure as it comes into sight, he finds that covetousness rises up

against him no longer, nor tempts him to what is wrong, nor disturbs his

understanding. He is gentle, and possesses himself for noble uses; he

has great thoughts and [Sidenote: D] shares with his soul the noblest

secrets. We, Capheisias and I, are lovers of such men, dear Simmias, and

we entreat the stranger to allow us so to train ourselves in poverty

that we may reach virtue such as that.’

XVI. My brother finished his argument, and then Simmias nodded his head

two or three times. ‘A great man,’ he said, ‘a great man is Epaminondas,

and thanks to Polymnis here for that, who procured for his sons from the

first the best training in Philosophy. However, with regard to this

question, Sir, do you and they settle it between you. Now about Lysis,

if we [Sidenote: E] may be allowed to hear. Do you mean to move him from

his tomb and to transfer him to Italy; or will you allow him to remain

here with us, where he shall find kind and friendly fellow-lodgers when

our time comes?’ Theanor smiled on him: ‘Lysis appears, Simmias, to love

this country, in which by the good offices of Epaminondas he has wanted

nothing that is honourable. For there is a certain holy rite connected

with our Pythagorean burials, which if we lack we do not seem to attain

our full and blessed consummation. So when we knew from dreams of the

death of Lysis (we distinguish by a certain sign which is revealed in

sleep whether an appearance belongs [Sidenote: F] to a dead person or a

living), this thought came over many of us: so Lysis has been buried in

another land with strange rites; he must be moved here to us, that he

may share in all that is customary. Coming with such an intention, and

guided straight to the tomb by people of the place, I was pouring

libations just at evening time, and calling on the soul of Lysis to

return and declare solemnly how we ought to act. The night went on and I

saw nothing, but thought I heard a voice: “Stir not what is best

unstirred; the body of Lysis has been buried with holy rites by friends;

his soul has already been parted from it and dismissed to another birth,

with another spirit for its partner.” Accordingly, when I met

Epaminondas at dawn [Sidenote: 586] and heard the manner in which he

buried Lysis, I recognized that he had been well trained by that great

teacher, even to the rules which must not be spoken, and had enjoyed the

guidance in life from the same spirit as he, unless I fail to guess the

pilot aright from the course steered. For “wide are the tracks”[40] of

our lives, and few there are of them by which the spirits lead men.’

When Theanor had said this, he looked closely at Epaminondas, as though

scrutinizing him afresh without and within.

[Sidenote: B] XVII. In the meantime the surgeon came up and loosened

Simmias’ bandage, intending to dress the limb. But Phyllidas came in

upon us with Hippostheneidas, and bidding me, and also Charon and

Theocritus, rise and follow him, led us to a corner of the colonnade,

his face showing great agitation. To my question, ‘Any news, Phyllidas?’

he answered, ‘No news to me; I knew and told you all the time how weak

Hippostheneidas was, and implored you not to admit him as an associate

of our enterprise.’ We were dismayed at this, and Hippostheneidas said:

‘In Heaven’s name, Phyllidas, do not say that; do not take rashness to

be courage, and thereby ruin us and the city too; [Sidenote: C] but

allow the men to make their own return in safety if it is so appointed.’

Phyllidas was nettled: ‘Tell me, Hippostheneidas,’ he said, ‘how many do

you think share the inner secrets of our plan?’ ‘Not less than thirty,

to my knowledge’, he said. ‘Very well,’ said Phyllidas, ‘there is all

that number, and you have taken on your single self to annul and check

the plan on which all had resolved, you sent a mounted messenger to the

men when already on their road, bidding them turn back and not press on

to-day, when most of the arrangements for their return have settled

themselves without us.’ When Phyllidas had said this we were all much

disturbed, but Charon fastened [Sidenote: D] his eyes very severely on

Hippostheneidas: ‘Villain!’ he said, ‘what have you done to us?’

‘Nothing terrible,’ answered Hippostheneidas, ‘if you will drop your

harsh tone and listen to the calculations of a man of your own age, with

grey hairs like yourself. If we have resolved to give our countrymen an

exhibition of a courage which loves danger, and a spirit which makes

little of life, then there is much of the day still before us,

Phyllidas; let us not wait for the evening, but march at once against

the tyrants, our swords in our hands—let us slay, let us die, let us

never spare ourselves! But say we find no difficulty in this, whether of

action or of endurance, yet to rescue Thebes [Sidenote: E] from an armed

force, when encompassed by so many enemies, and to expel the Spartan

garrison at a cost of two or three lives, is not easy; for Phyllidas has

never prepared so much strong liquor for his parties and receptions that

all the fifteen hundred men of Archias’ bodyguard will be made drunk;

yet, even if we get rid of him, Herippidas is on for night duty and

sober, and Arcesus too. This being so, why hurry to bring home friends

and relatives to manifest destruction, and that when the very fact of

their return is not unknown to the enemy? Or why have [Sidenote: F] the

Thespians been ordered to be under arms for these two days past, and

ready whenever the Spartan officers call? Again, I hear that Amphitheus

is to be examined and put to death to-day, whenever Archias returns. Are

not these strong signs that our action is not unmarked? Is it not best

to pause, not for a long time, but long enough to make the auspices

right? For the prophets declare, that in sacrificing the ox to Demeter,

they found that the entrails prognosticated much commotion and public

danger. Again, and this needs the greatest caution on your part, Charon,

yesterday Hypatodorus son of Erianthes walked back with me from the

farm, quite a good and friendly [Sidenote: 587] person, but certainly

not in our secrets. “Charon is your friend, Hippostheneidas,” he said,

“but I do not know him well; tell him, if you think good, to be on his

guard against a certain danger revealed in a very strange and

disagreeable dream. Last night I thought that his house was in pangs as

of labour, and that he and the friends who shared his anxiety prayed and

stood around it, while it moaned and uttered inarticulate sounds. At

last the fire flared out strong and terrible from within, so that most

of the city was caught by the blaze, but the Cadmeia was only wrapped in

smoke, the fire not spreading [Sidenote: B] up to it.” The vision which

the man described was something like this, Charon; I was alarmed at the

time, and much more so when I heard to-day that the exiles are to be put

up at your house; I am now in an agony lest we may be bringing a load of

troubles upon ourselves, yet not doing any harm worth mentioning to the

enemies, but simply stirring them up. For I reckon the city to be on our

side, the Cadmeia with them, as it certainly is.’

XVIII. Theocritus broke in, stopping Charon who wanted to say something

to Hippostheneidas: ‘Well, Hippostheneidas, [Sidenote: C] nothing has

ever struck me as so encouraging for action (although I have myself

always found my sacrifices favourable for the exiles), as this vision;

strong, clear light over the city, rising, you tell us, out of a

friendly house; the head-quarters of our enemies wrapped in black smoke,

which always imports, at the best, tears and confusion; then

inarticulate utterances proceeding from our side, so that, even if any

one were to attempt to inform against us, only an indistinct rumour and

blind suspicion can attach to our enterprise, which will have succeeded

by the time it is evident. That the priests should find sacrifices

unfavourable is natural; officials and victim belong to those in power,

not to the people.’ While Theocritus was still speaking, I turned to

Hippostheneidas: ‘What messenger did you send [Sidenote: D] out to them?

Unless you have allowed a very long start we will give chase.’ ‘I do not

know,’ he said, ‘for I must tell you the truth, Capheisias, whether you

could possibly overtake the man; he has the best horse in Thebes. The

man is known to you; he is head groom in Melon’s chariot stables, and

through Melon knows our enterprise from its beginning.’ Meanwhile I had

espied the man, and said, ‘Hippostheneidas, do you not mean Chlidon, who

won the single-horse race in last year’s Heraea?’ ‘That is the man’, he

said. ‘And who is that,’ I said, ‘standing this long time at the outer

gates, and looking in at us?’ Then Hippostheneidas turned: ‘Chlidon,’ he

[Sidenote: E] said, ‘yes, by Hercules, I fear something has gone very

wrong.’ Meanwhile, the man saw that we were observing him, and drew up

quietly from the door. Hippostheneidas gave him a nod and bade him speak

out to all present. ‘I know these gentlemen, Hippostheneidas, perfectly

well; and finding you neither at home nor in the market-place, I guessed

that you had come to them, so I took the shortest way here, that you may

all know [Sidenote: F] everything which has happened. When you ordered

me to use all speed and meet the party in the hill country, I went home

to get my horse; but when I asked for the bridle, my wife could not give

it me, but stayed a long time in the store room. She searched and turned

out everything inside, and after fooling me to her heart’s content, at

last confessed that she had lent the bridle to our neighbour the evening

before, his wife having come in to ask for one. I was angry and used

strong words to her, upon which she took to horrible imprecations—“A bad

journey [Sidenote: 588] and a bad return to you all!” May Heaven throw

it all back upon herself, by Zeus, yes! At last, in my anger, I got as

far as blows; then a crowd of neighbours and women ran up; I have

behaved shamefully and have been treated no better, and have just

managed to make my way to you, that you may send some one else to the

exiles, for I am fairly off my head by this time and feel badly upset.’

XIX. We now experienced a strange revulsion of feeling. A little before

we were chafing at the check we had received; now that the crisis was

upon us short and sharp, and no delay possible, we found ourselves

passing into an anguish of alarm. However, I said a word of greeting and

encouragement to Hippostheneidas, to the effect that the very Gods were

calling us [Sidenote: B] on to action. After this Phyllidas went out to

arrange for his party, and to get Archias plunged straight into his

drink, Charon to see to his house, while Theocritus and I returned to

Simmias on the chance of getting a word with Epaminondas.

XX. However, they were far on in an inquiry of no mean import, Heaven

knows, but one which Galaxidorus and Pheidolaus had started a little

earlier, the problem of the real nature [Sidenote: C] and potency of the

Divine Sign of Socrates, so called. What Simmias said in reply to the

argument of Galaxidorus we did not hear; but he went on to say that he

had himself once asked Socrates on the subject, and failed to get an

answer, and so had never asked again; but that he had often been with

him when he gave his opinion that those who claim intercourse with the

divine by way of vision are impostors, whereas he attended to those who

professed to hear a voice, and put serious questions to them. Hence it

began to occur to us, as we were discussing the matter among ourselves,

to suspect that the Divine Sign of Socrates might possibly be no vision

but a special sense for [Sidenote: D] sounds or words, with which he had

contact in some strange manner; just as in sleep there is no voice

heard, but fancies and notions as to particular words reach the

sleepers, who then think that they hear people talking. Only sleepers

receive such conceptions in a real dream because of the tranquillity and

calm of the body in sleep, whereas in waking moments the soul can hardly

attend to greater powers, being so choked by thronging emotions and

distracting needs that they are unable to listen and to give their

attention to clear revelations. But the mind of Socrates, pure and

passionless, and intermingling itself but [Sidenote: E] little with the

body for necessary purposes, was fine and light of touch, and quickly

changed under any impression. The impression we may conjecture to have

been no voice, but the utterance of a spirit, which without vocal sound

reached the perceiving mind by the revelation itself. For voice is like

a blow upon the soul, which perforce admits its utterance by way of the

ears, whenever we converse with one another. But the mind of a stronger

being leads the gifted soul, touching it with the thing thought, and no

blow is needed. To such a being soul yields as it relaxes or tightens

the impulses, which are never [Sidenote: F] violent, as when there are

passions to resist, but supple and pliant like reins which give. There

is nothing wonderful in this; as we see great cargo-vessels turned about

by little helms, and, again, potters’ wheels whirling round in even

revolution at the light touch of a hand. These are things without a soul

no doubt, yet so constructed as to run swiftly and smoothly, and

therefore to yield to a motive force when a touch is given. But the soul

of a man, being strained by countless impulses, as by cords, is far the

easiest of all machines to turn, if it be touched rationally; it accepts

the touch of thought, and moves as thought directs. For here the

passions and impulses are stretched towards the [Sidenote: 589] thinking

principle and end in it; if that principle be stirred they receive a

pull, and in turn draw and strain the man. And thus we are allowed to

learn how great is the power of a thought. For bones, which have no

sensation, and nerves and fleshy parts charged with humours, and the

whole resultant mass in its ponderous quiescence, do yet, as soon as the

soul sets something a going in thought and directs its impulse towards

it, rise up, alert and tense, a whole which moves to action in all its

members, as though it had wings. But it is hard, nay, perhaps,

altogether beyond our powers, to take in at one glance the [Sidenote: B]

system of excitation, complex strain, and divine prompting, whereby the

soul, after conceiving a thought, draws on the mass of the body by the

impulses which it gives.[41] Yet whereas a word thus intellectually

apprehended excites the soul, while no sort of voice is heard and no

action takes place, even so we need not, I think, find it hard to

believe that mind may be led by a stronger mind and a more divine soul

external to itself, having contact with it after its kind, as word with

word or light with reflection. For in actual fact we recognize the

thoughts of one another by groping as it were in darkness with the

assistance of voice; whereas the thoughts of spirits have light, they

shine upon men capable of receiving them, they need not verbs [Sidenote:

C] or nouns, those symbols whereby men in their intercourse with men see

resemblances and images of the things thought, yet never apprehend the

things themselves, save only those upon whom, as we have said, there

shines from within a peculiar and spiritual light. And yet what we see

happen in the case of the voice may partly reassure the incredulous. The

air is impressed with articulate sounds, it becomes all word and voice,

and brings the meaning home to the soul of the hearer. Therefore we need

not wonder if, in regard to this special mode of thought also, the air

is sensitive to the touch of higher beings, and is so modified as to

convey to the mind of godlike and extraordinary men the thought of him

who thought it. For as the strokes of miners[42] are caught on brazen

shields because of the reverberation, [Sidenote: D] when they rise from

below ground and fall upon them, whereas falling on any other surface

they are indistinct and pass to nothing, even so the words of spirits

pass through all Nature, but only sound for those who possess the soul

in untroubled calm, holy and spiritual men as we emphatically call them.

The view of most people is that spiritual visitations come to men in

sleep; that they should be similarly stirred when awake and in their

full faculties they think marvellous and beyond belief. As though a

musician were thought to use his lyre when the strings are let down, and

not to touch or use it when it is strung up and tuned! They do not see

the cause, their [Sidenote: E] own inner tunelessness and discord, from

which Socrates our friend had been set free, as the oracle given to his

father when he was yet a boy declared. For it bade him allow his son to

do whatever came into his mind; not to force nor direct his goings, but

to let his impulse have free play, only to pray for him to Zeus Agoraios

and to the Muses, but for all else not to meddle with Socrates; meaning

no doubt that he had within him a guide for [Sidenote: F] his life who

was better than ten thousand teachers and directors.

XXI. This, Pheidolaus, is what has occurred to me to think about the

Divine Sign of Socrates, in his lifetime and since his death, dismissing

with contempt those who have suggested voices or sneezings or anything

of that sort. But what I have heard Timarchus of Chaeroneia relate on

this head it may perhaps be better to pass over in silence, as more like

myth than history. ‘Not at all;’ said Theocritus, ‘let us have it all.

Even myth touches truth, not too closely, perhaps, but it does touch it

at points. But first, who was this Timarchus? Explain, for I do not know

him.’ ‘Naturally, Theocritus,’ [Sidenote: 590] said Simmias, ‘for he

died quite young, having begged that he might be buried near Lamprocles,

the son of Socrates, who had died a few days before, his own friend and

contemporary. He then greatly wished to know what was really meant by

the Divine Sign of Socrates, and so, like a generous youth fresh to the

taste of Philosophy, having taken no one but Cebes and myself into his

plan, went down into the cave of Trophonius, after performing the usual

rites of the oracle. Two nights and one day he remained below; and when

most people had given him up, and his family was mourning for [Sidenote:

B] him, at early dawn he came up very radiant. He knelt to the God, then

made his way at once through the crowd, and related to us many wonderful

things which he had seen and heard.

XXII. ‘He said that, when he descended into the oracular chamber, he

first found himself in a great darkness; then, after a prayer, lay a

long while not very clearly conscious whether he was awake or dreaming;

only he fancied that his head received a blow, while a dull noise fell

on his ears, and then the sutures parted and allowed his soul to issue

forth. As it passed upwards, rejoicing to mingle with the pure

transparent air, it appeared [Sidenote: C] first to draw a long deep

breath, after its narrow compression, and to become larger than before,

like a sail as it is filled out. Then he heard dimly a whirring noise

overhead out of which came a sweet voice. He looked up and saw land

nowhere, only islands shining with lambent fire, from time to time

changing colour with one another, as though it were a coat of dye, while

the light became spangled in the transition. They appeared to be

countless in number and in size enormous, not all equal but all alike

circular. He thought that as these moved around there was an answering

hum of the air, for the gentleness of [Sidenote: D] that voice which was

harmonized out of all corresponded to the smoothness of the motion.

Through the midst of the islands a sea or lake was interfused, all

shining with the colours as they were commingled over its grey surface.

Some few islands floated in a straight course and were conveyed across

the current; many others were drawn on by the flood, being almost

submerged. The sea was of great depth in some parts towards the south,

but [northwards[43]] there were very shallow reaches, and it often swept

over places and then left them dry, having no strong [Sidenote: E] ebb.

The colour was in places pure as that of the open sea, in others turbid

and marsh-like. As the islands passed through the surf they never came

round to their starting-point again or described a circle, but slightly

varied the points of impact, thus describing a continuous spiral as they

went round. The sea was inclined to the approximate middle and highest

part of the encompassing firmament by a little less than eight-ninths of

the whole, as it appeared to him. It had two openings which [Sidenote:

F] received rivers of fire pouring in from opposite sides, so that it

was lashed into foam, and its grey surface was turned to white. This he

saw, delighted at the spectacle; but as he turned his eyes downwards,

there appeared a chasm, vast and round as though hewn out of a sphere;

it was strangely terrible and deep and full of utter darkness, not in

repose but often agitated and surging up; from which were heard roarings

innumerable and groanings of beasts, and wailings of innumerable

infants, and with these mingled cries of men and women, dim sounds of

all sorts, and turmoils sent up indistinctly from the distant depth,

[Sidenote: 591] to his no small consternation. Time passed, and an

unseen person said to him, “Timarchus, what do you wish to learn?”

“Everything,” he replied, “for all is wonderful.” “We”, the voice said,

“have little to do with the regions above, they belong to other Gods;

but the province of Persephone which we administer, being one of the

four which Styx bounds, you may survey if you will.” To his question,

“What is Styx?” “A way to Hades,” was the reply, “and it passes right

opposite, parting the light at its very vertex, but reaching up, as you

see, from Hades below; where it touches the light in its revolution

[Sidenote: B] it marks off the remotest region of all. Now, there are

four first principles of all things, the first of life, the second of

motion, the third of birth, the fourth of death. The first is linked to

the second by Unity, in the Unseen: the second to the third by Mind, in

the sun: the third to the fourth by Nature, in the moon. Over each of

these combinations a Fate, daughter of Necessity, presides, and holds

the keys; of the first Atropus, of the second, Clotho, of the one

belonging to the moon Lachesis, and the turning-point of birth is there.

For the other islands contain Gods, but the moon, which belongs to

[Sidenote: C] earthly spirits, only avoids Styx by a slight elevation,

and is caught once in one hundred and seventy-seven secondary

measures[44]. As Styx moves upon her, the souls cry aloud in terror; for

many slip from off her and are caught by Hades. Others the moon bears

upwards from below, as they turn towards her; and for these death

coincides with the moment of birth, those excepted which are guilty and

impure, and which are not allowed to approach her while she lightens and

bellows fearfully; mourning for their own fate they slip away and are

borne downwards for another birth, as you see.” “But I see [Sidenote: D]

nothing,” said Timarchus, “save many stars quivering around the gulf,

others sinking into it, others, again, darting up from below.” “Then you

see the spirits themselves,” the voice said, “though you do not know it.

It is thus: every soul partakes of mind, there is none irrational or

mindless; but so much of soul as is mingled with flesh and with

affections is altered and turned towards the irrational by its sense of

pleasures and pains. But the mode of mingling is not the same for every

soul. Some are merged entirely into body, and are disturbed by passions

throughout their whole being during life. Others [Sidenote: E] are in

part mixed up with it, but leave outside their purest part, which is not

drawn in, but is like a life-buoy which floats on the surface, and

touches the head of one who has sunk into the depth, the soul clinging

around it and being kept upright, while so much of it is supported as

obeys and is not overmastered by the affections. The part which is borne

below the surface within the body is called soul. That which is left

free from dissolution most persons call mind, taking it to be something

inside themselves, resembling the reflected images in mirrors; but those

who are rightly informed know that it is outside themselves and address

it as spirit. The stars, Timarchus,” the voice went on, “which you see

extinguished, you are to [Sidenote: F] think of as souls entirely merged

in bodies; those which give light again and shine from below upwards,

shaking off, as though it were mud, a sort of gloom and dimness, are

those which sail up again out of their bodies after death; those which

are parted upwards are spirits, and belong to men who are said to have

understanding. Try to see clearly in each the bond by which it coheres

with soul.” Hearing this, he paid closer attention himself, and saw the

stars tossing about, some less, some more, as we see the corks which

mark out nets in the sea move over its surface; but some, like the

shuttles used in [Sidenote: 592] weaving, in entangled and irregular

figures, not able to settle the motion into a straight line. The voice

said that those who kept a straight and orderly movement were men whose

souls had been well broken in by fair nurture and training, and did not

allow their irrational part to be too harsh and rough. Those which often

inclined upwards and downwards in an irregular and confused manner, like

horses plunging off from a halter, were [Sidenote: B] fighting against

the yoke with tempers disobedient and ill-trained for want of education;

sometimes getting the mastery and swerving round to the right; again

bent by passions and drawn on to share in sins, then again resisting and

putting force upon them. The coupling bond, like a curb set on the

irrational part of the soul whenever it resists, brings on repentance,

as we call it, for sins, and shame for all lawless and intemperate

pleasures, being really a pain and a stroke inflicted by it on the soul

when it is bitted by that which masters and rules it, until at length,

being thus punished, it becomes obedient to the rein [Sidenote: C] and

familiar with it, and then, like a tame creature, without blow or pain,

understands the spirit quickly by signs and hints. These then are led,

late in the day and by slow degrees, to their duty. Out of those who are

docile and obedient to their spirit from the first birth, is formed the

prophetic and inspired class, to which belonged the soul of

Hermodorus[45] of Clazomenae, of which you have surely heard; how it

would leave the body entirely and wander over a wide range by night and

by day, and [Sidenote: D] then come back again, having been present

where many things were said and done far off, until the enemy found the

body, which his wife had betrayed, left at home deserted by its soul,

and burnt it. Now this part is not true; the soul used not to go out

from the body; but by always yielding to the spirit, and slackening the

coupling-band, he gave it constant liberty to range around, so that it

saw and heard and reported many things from the world outside. But those

who destroyed the body while he was asleep are paying the penalty in

Tartarus unto [Sidenote: E] this day. All this, young man, you shall

know more clearly in the third month from this; now begone!” When the

voice ceased, Timarchus wished to turn round, he said, and see who the

speaker was; but his head again ached violently, as though forcibly

compressed, and he could no longer hear or perceive anything passing

about him; afterwards, however, he came to [Sidenote: F] by degrees, and

saw that he was lying in the cave of Trophonius, near the entrance where

he had originally sunk down.

XXIII. ‘Such was the tale of Timarchus. When he died, having returned to

Athens in the third month after hearing the voice, and when, in our

wonder, we told Socrates of the story, he blamed us for not reporting it

while Timarchus was still alive, since he would gladly have heard it

more clearly from himself, and have questioned him further. There,

Theocritus, you have all, tale and theory both. But perhaps we ought to

invite the stranger to join our inquiry; the subject comes nearly home

to inspired men.’ ‘Well, but’, the stranger answered, ‘Epaminondas, who

puts out from the same port, is not contributing his opinion.’ Our

father smiled: ‘That is just his character, Sir. Silent and cautious in

speaking, but a glutton for learning and listening. That is why

Spintharus of Tarentum, after spending no little time with him here, is

always saying, as you know, that he never met [Sidenote: 593] any man of

his own standing who knew more or who spoke less. So pray let us have

all your own thoughts on the subject.’

XXIV. ‘Then, for my part,’ said Theanor, ‘I think that the story of

Timarchus ought to be dedicated to the God, as holy and inviolable. But

it will be strange to me if any shall be found to discredit what Simmias

tells us about the matter; thus, while they designate swans, serpents,

dogs and horses as sacred, refusing to believe that men may be godlike

and friends of God, yet holding that God is not a friend of birds but a

friend of man. As, then, a man who loves horses does not care equally

for all individuals which make the class, but always picks out and

separates [Sidenote: B] some excellent member of the class, and trains

him by himself and feeds him and loves him beyond others; so it is with

ourselves; the higher powers extract, if the word may pass, the best out

of the herd, and deem them worthy of a very special training, directing

their course, not by reins nor by halters, but by reason, through signs

utterly incomprehensible to the general herd. Why, most dogs do not

understand the signals used in hunting, nor most horses those used in

the manège; but those who have learned know at once from a whistle or a

chirrup what they are required to do, and easily take the right

position. Homer clearly knows the distinction [Sidenote: C] to which I

refer. Some of his prophets he calls “readers of dreams” and “priests”,

others understand the conversation of the Gods themselves, he thinks, by

sympathy, and signify the future to us. For instance:

_Thus they conferred: but Helenus, Priam’s son,

That scheme, which pleased them, in his heart divined._[46]

And again:

_So the everlasting voice I have heard and known._[47]

The mind of kings and generals is made known to outsiders through the

senses, by special beacons or proclamation, or calls on the trumpet; and

so the divine message reaches few of us in and [Sidenote: D] through

itself, and that rarely; for ordinary men signals are employed and these

are the groundwork of what we call divination. The Gods, then, regulate

life only for a few, for those whom they wish to make blessed in a

single degree, and truly divine; but souls released from coming to the

birth, and now for ever at rest from a body, and dismissed into freedom,

are spirits who care for men, in Hesiod’s sense. For as athletes, when

age has brought them an end of training, do not wholly lose the spirit

of competition or of care for the body, but delight to see others in

practice, and cheer them on and run beside them, so [Sidenote: E] those

who have ceased from the struggles of life, made spirits because of the

excellence of their soul, do not utterly despise our earthly affairs,

our discussions and our interests: they have a kindly feeling for those

training with the same end before them, they share their eagerness for

virtue, encourage them, and join them in their bursts, whenever they see

them running with hope near at hand and already within touch. For the

spirit does not help [Sidenote: F] all men as they come. It is as with

swimmers upon the sea; spectators on the shore merely gaze in silence on

those who are out in the open, drifting far from land; whereas they run

along the beach towards those who are already nearing it, they dash in

to meet them, and with hand, and voice, and endeavour, hasten to the

rescue. Such, Simmias, is the way of a spirit; while we are dipped

beneath the tides of life, changing body for body, like relays on a

road, he allows us to struggle out for ourselves, to be brave and

patient, to try by our own virtue to reach the harbour in safety. But

when any soul through a myriad of births has striven once and again a

long-drawn strife well and stoutly, and when, with the cycle now

wellnigh complete, it [Sidenote: 594] takes the risks, and sets its hope

high, as it nears the landing-place, and presses upwards with sweat and

endeavour, the God thinks it no wrong that its own spirit should go to

the help of such a soul, but lets zeal go free, and the Gods are zealous

to encourage and to save, one this soul and one that. The soul hearkens

because it is so near, and it is saved; but if it does not hearken the

spirit leaves it, and its happy chance is gone.’

XXV. As he finished, Epaminondas looked at me. ‘It is nearly your time,

Capheisias, to go to the gymnasium and not fail your comrades; we will

take care of Theanor, and break up [Sidenote: B] our conference whenever

he likes.’ ‘Let us do so,’ I said, ‘but I think Theocritus here wants a

few words with you while Galaxidorus and I are present.’ ‘By all means’,

said he; he rose and led the way to the angle of the portico. We stood

round and tried to encourage him to join the scheme. He answered that he

perfectly well knew the day of the return of the exiles, and had

arranged with Gorgidas as to all that was necessary for our friends, but

that he refused to take the life of any citizen without trial, unless

there were an urgent necessity; also, looking to the body of the

Thebans, it was specially convenient that there should be some person

with hands clean [Sidenote: C] and beyond suspicion, when the time

should come to advise the people for the best. We agreed, and he

returned at once to Simmias and his party. We went down to the gymnasium

and met our friends, and, pairing off for wrestling matches, exchanged

information and plans for action. We saw also Archias and Philippus,

anointed and starting for the supper. For Phyllidas, [Sidenote: D]

fearing that they might put Amphitheus to death first, called on Archias

immediately after he had escorted Lysanoridas, and by suggesting hopes

that the lady he desired to meet would come to the place, persuaded him

to turn his mind to having a good time with the usual companions of his

revels.

XXVI. It was now getting late, and the cold was intense, as the wind had

got up. Most people had therefore made for their homes more quickly than

usual. We had fallen in with Damocleidas, Pelopidas, and Theopompus, and

were taking them with us, as others took others of the exiles. For the

party had broken up immediately after crossing Cithaeron; and the bitter

[Sidenote: E] weather allowed them to muffle up their faces and pass

through the city in security. Some of them were met by a lightning flash

on the right without thunder, as they entered through the gates; and the

sign seemed favourable for safety and glory, with a bright issue to

follow and no danger.

XXVII. So when we were all inside, two short of fifty, while Theocritus

was sacrificing by himself in an outbuilding, there was a loud knocking

at the door; and presently some one came in to say that two servants of

Archias, sent on an urgent message to Charon, were knocking at the

courtyard gate and calling for it to [Sidenote: F] be opened, and were

angry at the slowness of the response. Charon was much disturbed, and

gave orders to open to them at once, while he himself went to meet them,

the crown on his head showing that he had sacrificed and was at his

wine, and asked the messengers what they wanted. One of them replied:

‘Archias and Philippus sent us, you are to come to them as quickly as

you can.’ When Charon asked, ‘What is the reason of this hasty summons,

and is there anything new?’ ‘We know nothing further,’ answered the

messenger, ‘but what shall we tell them?’ ‘This, by Zeus,’ said Charon,

‘that as soon as I have put off this crown and got my cloak, I will

follow you. For, if I go straight off with you, there will be an alarm;

people will think that I am in [Sidenote: 595] custody.’ ‘Do so,’ they

said, ‘for we too have orders to convey from the magistrates to the

guard of the lower city.’ So they went off. When Charon came in and told

us this, we were all aghast, thinking we had been betrayed. Most of us

were inclined to suspect Hippostheneidas; he had tried to hinder the

return by sending Chlidon, and when that failed and the dread moment was

upon us, he had used his plausible tongue to betray the scheme, out of

fear; for he did not come with the rest into the house, but the whole

impression he gave us was of a coward and turncoat. However, we all

thought that Charon ought to go, and obey the [Sidenote: B] summons of

the magistrates. He ordered his son to come in, the handsomest boy in

Thebes, Archidamus, and the most painstaking in his gymnastics; barely

fifteen, but in strength and size far above others of his age.

‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘he is my only one, and, as you know, I love him

dearly; I place him in your hands, and charge you in the name of the

Gods, and in the name of the spirits, if I should appear a traitor to

your cause, slay him, and spare us not. For the rest, my gallant

friends, set yourselves to meet the event; do not give in like shabby

cowards, or allow this scum to slay your bodies; defend yourselves, keep

your souls [Sidenote: C] above defeat, they are our country’s!’ As

Charon said this, we were wondering at his spirit and noble heart,

though indignant at his idea of suspicion on our part, and bade him take

the boy away. ‘More than that, Charon,’ said Pelopidas, ‘we think that

you have not been well advised in that you have not already removed your

son to another house. What need for him to run our risks if taken with

us? You must send him away even now, so that, if anything happen to us,

one noble nursling may be left to be our avenger on the tyrants.’ ‘Not

so;’ said Charon, ‘here he shall stay and share your risks; for, even in

his interest, it is not [Sidenote: D] good that he should fall into the

enemy’s hands. But you, my boy, be daring beyond your years, taste the

struggles which must come, take risks with our many brave countrymen in

the cause of freedom and valour; much hope still is left, and I think

that a God is surely watching over us in our contest for the right.’

XXVIII. Tears came to many of us, Archidamus, at the words of Charon.

Dry-eyed himself and unmoved, he placed his son in the hands of

Pelopidas, and made his way through the doors with a word of greeting

and encouragement for each of us. Even more would you have admired the

bright and fearless bearing of the boy himself in the peril. Like

Neoptolemus,[48] he showed no [Sidenote: E] paleness or alarm, but drew

the sword of Pelopidas and seemed to study it. In the meantime,

Diotonus, a friend of Cephisodorus, came in to us, sword in hand, and

wearing a steel breastplate under his clothes; and when we told him of

Charon being sent for by Archias, blamed us for losing time, and

implored us to go straight to the houses, where we should be upon them

before they were ready; failing that, it would be better, he said, to go

out into the open and form our parties there out of the scattered and

uncombined units, rather than shut ourselves up in a chamber [Sidenote:

F] and wait like a swarm of bees to be cut out by the enemy. The prophet

Theocritus added his urgent appeal; his victims showed a clear and good

result, and assured him of safety.

XXIX. While we were arming and making arrangements, Charon reappeared,

his face radiant. Smiling as he looked at us, he bade us take heart;

there was no danger and the business was moving on. ‘Archias’, he said,

‘and Philippus, when they heard [Sidenote: 596] that I had obeyed their

summons, were already heavy with drink, sodden alike in body and mind;

it was all they could do to stand upon their feet and move out towards

the door. When Archias said: “Charon, we hear that exiles have passed

into the city and are being concealed”, I was not a little troubled.

“Where are they said to be?” I asked, “and who are they?” “We do not

know,” replied Archias, “and therefore ordered you to come, on the

chance that you might have heard something more certain.” I took a

moment to recover my senses, as if after a blow, and began to put things

together. The information given could be no substantial story; the plot

had not been betrayed by any of those privy to it; for the tyrants could

not be in ignorance as to [Sidenote: B] the house if their information

came from any person with real knowledge; it must be merely a suspicion

or some indefinite rumour circulating in the city which had reached

them. So I answered: “I remember that in the lifetime of Androcleidas

there were often reports of the kind floating idly about and causing us

annoyance. But at the present time, Archias,” I went on, “I have heard

nothing of the sort; however, I will inquire into the story, if you so

desire, and, if I hear anything worth attention, you shall not fail to

know.” “By all means,” said Phyllidas, “look well into this matter and

leave no stone unturned. What is to prevent us? We must think nothing

beneath our notice, but must take all precautions and pay attention.

Forethought is good; safety is good!” As he said [Sidenote: C] this, he

took Archias by the arm and led him off into the house where they are

drinking. ‘Now, friends,’ he went on, ‘no delay for us, a prayer to the

Gods, and forth we go!’ When Charon had said this, we spent a while in

prayer and mutual encouragement.

XXX. It was now the hour at which people are mostly at supper; the wind

was still rising and drove beneath it snow with drizzle, so that the

narrow streets were quite empty as we made our way through them. The

party told off against Leontides and Hypates, who lived near one

another, went out cloaked and carrying no arms but a sword apiece (among

[Sidenote: D] these were Pelopidas, Damocleidas, and Cephisodorus).

Charon, Melon, and the rest who were to attack Archias, wore

half-cuirasses, and thick wreaths, some of firwood, some of pine. Some

were in women’s tunics, which gave the effect of a drinking procession

with women. But our ill-fortune, Archidamus, which set all the weakness

and ignorance of the enemy on a level with all our daring and

preparation, and chequered our action from the outset with perilous

episodes like a stage play, met us at [Sidenote: E] the moment of

action, and sharp and terrible was the crisis with its dramatic

surprise. Charon, having satisfied Archias and Philippus, had returned

home and was putting us through our parts, when there came a letter from

this city; it was from Archias the priest to Archias of Thebes, an old

friend and guest, it would seem, with full news of the return and plot

of the exiles, of the house [Sidenote: F] to which they had repaired,

and of those who were acting with them. Archias was by this time

drenched with wine, and excited about the expected arrival of the

ladies; he took the letter, but when the bearer said that it was

addressed to him about certain urgent business: “Then urgent business

to-morrow!” he said, and thrust the letter under his head cushion; then

he asked for a cup, kept calling for wine, the whole time ordering

Phyllidas to go out to the door and see whether the women were near.

XXXI. As they had beguiled their drinking with this hope, we joined the

company, and pushing our way through the servants to the banqueting hall

stood a short time at the door looking [Sidenote: 597] at each of the

party. Our crowns and dress and make-up, while apologizing for our

presence, caused a silence: but as soon as Melon rushed first up the

hall, his hand upon his sword-hilt, Cabirichus, the appointed president,

plucked him by the arm as he passed, and shouted out, ‘Phyllidas, is not

this Melon?’ Melon shook off his grasp, drawing his sword as he did so,

then, rushing upon Archias as with difficulty he found his feet, struck

and struck till he had killed him. Philippus received a neck wound from

Charon; he tried to defend himself with the drinking-cups [Sidenote: B]

which were near his hand, but Lysitheus threw him off the couch to the

ground and slew him. We tried to pacify Cabirichus, imploring him not to

assist the tyrants, but to join in our country’s deliverance,

remembering that he was a holy person and consecrated to the Gods for

her sake. As, however, from the wine he had taken, it was not easy to

carry his thoughts to the proper course, while he stood excited and

confused, and kept presenting the point of his spear (customarily worn

by our magistrates at all times), I myself seized it at the middle and

swung it over his head, crying to him to let go and save himself, or he

would be wounded. But Theopompus, standing near him [Sidenote: C] on the

right, struck him with his sword, and said: ‘Lie there with those whom

thou hast been flattering; never mayest thou wear a crown in a free

Thebes, nor sacrifice any longer to the Gods, in whose names thou hast

often called down curses on our country, and prayers for her enemies!’

When Cabirichus was down, Theocritus, who was with us, snatched the

sacred spear out of the wound; and we slew a few of the servants who

ventured on resistance, while we shut up in the hall those who behaved

quietly, not wishing them to slip away and spread news of what had

happened, before we knew whether things had gone [Sidenote: D] well with

our comrades also.

XXXII. Their history was this. Pelopidas and his party quietly

approached the courtyard door of Leontides, and told the servant who

answered their knock that they had come from Athens with letters for

Leontides from Callistratus. When he had given the message and received

orders to open, and had removed the bar and set the door a little ajar,

they burst in in a body, upset the man, and charged on through the court

to the bedroom of Leontides. His suspicions carrying him at once to the

truth he drew his dagger and rushed to defend himself; an unjust and

tyrannical man he was, but of sturdy courage and a [Sidenote: E]

powerful fighter. However, he did not make up his mind to throw down the

torch and close with the attacking party in the dark; but in the light,

and in their full view, as soon as they began to open the door, he smote

Cephisodorus on the groin, and closed with Pelopidas next, shouting

loudly all the time to call the attendants. These were held in check by

Samidas’ party, not venturing to come to blows with some of the best

known and bravest men in Thebes. Pelopidas and Leontides had to fight it

[Sidenote: F] out; it was a sword duel in the doorway of the chamber, a

narrow one, in the middle of which lay Cephisodorus, fallen and dying,

so that the others could not come in to the rescue. At last our man,

having received a slight wound in the head and having given many, and

thrown Leontides down, ran him through over the still warm body of

Cephisodorus. The latter saw the enemy falling, and placed his hand in

that of Pelopidas, saluted the others, and cheerfully breathed his last.

Leaving them, they turned against Hypates, and the door having been

opened to them there, in the same way, they cut him down while trying to

escape over a roof to the neighbours.

[Sidenote: 598] XXXIII. Thence they hastened towards us, joining us

outside, near the Polystyle. After mutual greetings and talk, we

proceeded to the prison. Phyllidas called the head jailer out and said:

‘Archias and Philippus order you to bring Amphitheus to them at once.’

He, remarking the strangeness of the hour, and that Phyllidas did not

seem composed as he spoke to him, but hot from the struggle and excited,

saw through our artifice: ‘When did the Polemarchs send for a prisoner

at such an hour, [Sidenote: B] Phyllidas,’ he asked, ‘and when by you?

What password do you bring?’ As he was speaking, Phyllidas, who carried

a cavalry lance, drove it through his ribs and brought the scoundrel to

the ground, where he was trampled and spat upon the next day by a number

of women. We burst open the doors of the prison, and called on the

prisoners by name; first Amphitheus, then our acquaintances among the

others. As they recognized the voices they leapt up from their pallet

beds, dragging their chains, while those whose feet were fast in the

stocks stretched out their hands, shouting and imploring us not to leave

them behind. As these were being released, many of those who lived near

came up, perceiving [Sidenote: C] what was going on and delighting in

it. The women, as soon as each heard about her own relation, dropped

Boeotian habits, and ran out to one another, asking questions from the

men who met them. Those who found their own fathers or husbands

followed, and no one tried to hinder them, for all who met them were

deeply affected by pity for the men, and by the tears and prayers of

modest women.

XXXIV. While things were thus, learning that Epaminondas [Sidenote: D]

and Gorgidas were already forgathering with our friends near the temple

of Athena, I took my way to join them. Many loyal citizens had already

arrived, and more kept pouring in. When I had told them in detail the

story of what had happened, and while I was imploring them to rally to

the market-place, all agreed to summon the citizens at once ‘For

Liberty!’ The crowds now forming up found arms to their hand in the

warehouses full of spoils from all lands and in the factories of the

swordmakers living near. Hippostheneidas had also arrived with friends

and servants, bringing the trumpeters, who had, as it happened, been

quartered in the town for the feast of Hercules. All at once they began

to sound calls, some in the market-place, [Sidenote: E] others

elsewhere, from every direction, to cause a panic among the other side,

and make them think that the rising was general. Some lighted smoky

fires[49] and so escaped to the Cadmeia, drawing with them also the

aristocrats, so called, who were accustomed to pass the night on the low

ground near the fortress. Those who were above, seeing this disorderly

and confused stream of incomers, and ourselves about the market-place,

no quiet anywhere, but indistinct noise and bustle rising up to them

from all quarters, never made up their minds to come down, though there

were some five thousand of them. They [Sidenote: F] thoroughly lost

their heads in the danger, and Lysanoridas was a mere excuse: they

professed to wait for his return, which was due that day. In

consequence, he was afterwards sentenced to a heavy fine by the

Lacedaemonian senate. Herippidas and Arcesus were arrested at Corinth

later on and put to death. The Cadmeia was evacuated by them and

surrendered to us under treaty, and the garrison withdrawn.

Footnote 20:

See, however, an article by Mr. R. F. Macnaghten in the _Classical

Review_ of September 1914 (vol. 28, p. 185 foll.).

Footnote 21:

_Isthm._ 1, 2.

Footnote 22:

So C. F. Hermann (ap. Ed. Teub.) for δυσί τῶν ἱερῶν.

Footnote 23:

Here several words of the text have been lost.

Footnote 24:

Many words have been lost (three separate lacunae).

Footnote 25:

Reading διεκώλυεν for διακούων.

Footnote 26:

Supplying προσδοκῶν, as Ed. Teub.

Footnote 27:

Many words are here lost, to the general effect of those in the

brackets.

Footnote 28:

i. e. each of the four sides of each of the six faces. The Greek word

for ‘side’ and ‘face’ is the same.

Footnote 29:

This problem (mentioned by Plutarch also in the _E at Delphi_, see p.

63) was in fact solved by Menaechmus, a pupil of Eudoxus, through

Conic Sections, and also by Archytas, whose method is much more

elaborate. See Preface, p. xiv.

Footnote 30:

_Il._ 10, 279; _Od._ 13, 300-1.

Footnote 31:

_Il._ 20, 95.

Footnote 32:

συμπιέσας for the MSS. reading συμπείσας (Reiske).

Footnote 33:

πταρμὸς ἤ (Ed. Teub.), for ἐφαρμόσει, is attractive, but it seems

better not to anticipate the word.

Footnote 34:

ἐπὶ ῥειτοῖς is K. O. Müller’s reading for ἐπὶ ρητις της of the MSS.

See Wordsworth’s _Athens and Attica_, p. 9.

Footnote 35:

Fr. 284 (the well-known fragment of the _Autolycus_ about Athletes) l.

22.

Footnote 36:

Cp. _Od._ 1, 170, &c.

Footnote 37:

_Od._ 1, 27.

Footnote 38:

See _Life of Nicias_, c. 3.

Footnote 39:

Aeschylus, _Prometheus_, 545.

Footnote 40:

Cp. Bacchylides, Fr. 37 (_Life of Numa_, c. 4): ‘Broad is the road’,

i. e. ‘there is room for divergent opinions.’

Footnote 41:

Compare _Life of Coriolanus_, c. 32, p. 229, with this difficult

passage.

Footnote 42:

Of the participle so translated only the termination remains. Reiske’s

μεταλλευόντων well completes this fine image.

Footnote 43:

This word is not in the Greek text.

Footnote 44:

See note on the Myths of Plutarch, p. 315.

Footnote 45:

Lucian (Musc. Encom. c. 7) tells the same story of Hermodorus.

Plutarch has probably made a slip, as elsewhere, in names. See p. 99.

Footnote 46:

_Il._ 7, 44-5.

Footnote 47:

l. 53.

Footnote 48:

i. e. in the Wooden Horse, _Od._ 11, 526-32.

Footnote 49:

Perhaps rather ‘the Laconizing party’, as the Teubner editor suggests.