as if the bonds of love were only the cold and ponderous chains of
necessity, made use of as a colorable pretence to excuse and qualify
shame, but such friendship as is carried upon winged chariots to the
most lovely objects that exist, and to sights more divine than this
earth affords. But on this point others have better discoursed.
19. After my father had thus delivered himself; Do you not perceive,
said Soclarus, how, being fallen a second time into the same matter,
you have as it were by force constrained yourself, and unjustly
deprived us—if I may speak what I think—of that same sacred discourse
which you were entering into? For as before you gave us a hint
concerning Plato and the Egyptians, but passed them over as if it
had been done against your will; so you do now again. Now as to what
has been notably uttered by Plato, or rather by our Goddesses here
(the Muses) through Plato’s mouth, do not trouble yourself to tell
us this, even although we should request it. But whereas you have
obscurely hinted that the fables of the Egyptians accord with Plato’s
opinion concerning love, we know you have too great kindness for us
to conceal your knowledge from us; and though it be but a little of
those important matters, it shall suffice us. Thereupon the rest of
the company declaring their readiness to give attention, my father
thus began: The Egyptians, said he, and also the Grecians set up two
Deities of love; the one vulgar, the other celestial; to which they add
a third, which they believe to be the sun; and as for Venus, they pay
her a very great veneration. We ourselves also do find that there is
a great affinity and resemblance between the sun and the God of Love.
For neither of them is material fire, as some conjecture. All that we
acknowledge is only this, that there is a certain soft and generative
heat and warmth proceeding from the sun, which affords to the body
nourishment, light, and relaxation of cold; whereas that warmth which
comes from love works the same effects in the soul. And as the sun
breaking forth from the clouds and after a thick fog is much hotter; so
love, after passionate anger and jealousies are over, and the beloved
one is again reconciled, grows more delightful and fervent. Moreover,
as some believe the sun to be kindled and extinguished, they also
imagine the same things concerning love, as being mortal and unstable.
For neither can a constitution not enured to exercise endure the sun,
nor the disposition of an illiterate and ill-tutored soul brook love
without trouble and pain; for both are alike distempered and diseased,
for which they lay the blame upon the power of the God, and not their
own weakness. Herein only there may seem to be some difference between
them; for that the sun displays to the sight upon the earth both beauty
and deformity at once, but love is a luminary that affords us the view
of beautiful objects only, and persuades lovers to cast their eyes
only upon what is pleasing and delightful, and with a careless eye
to overlook all other things. On the other side, they that attribute
the name of Venus to the moon, although they have no convincing
proof, still have hit upon a certain similarity. For that the moon
is celestial and divine, and the region of mixture between mortal
and immortal; but it is weak of itself, obscure and dark without the
presence of the sun; as Venus is where love is absent. Therefore more
properly and with more probability the moon is likened to Venus, and
the sun to Love, rather than to any other of the Gods.
Nevertheless, we must not therefore say they are all one. For neither
are the soul and body the same, but distinct; as the sun is visible,
but love is perceptible only by sense. And if it might not be thought
too harsh a saying, a man might affirm that the sun and love act
contrary to one another. For the sun diverts the understanding from
things intelligible to sensible objects, alluring and fascinating the
sight with the grace and splendor of his rays, and persuading us to
search for other things, and even for truth itself, within and about
himself, and nowhere else. And we appear to be passionately in love
with the sun, because, as Euripides says,
He always on the earth displays
The glory of his burning rays,[106]
for want of our knowledge of another life, or rather, through our
forgetfulness of those things which love calls to our remembrance. For
as, when we are newly awaked and come into a bright and dazzling light,
we forget whatever appeared to the soul in our dreams; so the sun
seems to stupefy our recollection and impoison our understanding, when
we change from the former life and enter this world, so that in our
pleasure and admiration we forget all other considerations besides that
of the present life. Though there indeed are the real substances proper
for the contemplation of the soul; here, as in sleep, it embraces only
dreams, and gazes in admiration and astonishment at what appears to it
most beautiful and divine, while