Plutarch's Morals
increase the yield of the trees, the sacred splendour of Autumn,' as
Pindar says?[99] And if they care about all this, is there no god or
genius who is interested in the nurture and growth of boys and youths in
all their glorious flower? is there no one that cares that the growing
man may be upright and virtuous, and that the nobility of his nature may
not be warped and corrupted, either through want of a guardian or by the
depravity of those he associates with? Is it not monstrous and thankless
to say so, seeing that we enjoy the divine bounty, which is dealt out to
us richly, and never abandons us in our straits? And yet some of these
same straits have more necessity than beauty. For example, our birth, in
spite of the unpleasant circumstances attending it, is witnessed by the
divine Ilithyia and Artemis: and it would be better not to be born at
all than to become bad through want of a good guardian and guide.
Moreover in sickness the god who is over that province does not desert
us, nor even in death: for even then there is a conductor and guide for
the departed, to lay them to sleep, and convey their souls to
Hades,[100] as the poet says,
'Night bore me not to be lord of the lyre,
Nor to be seer, or healer of diseases,
But to conduct the souls of the departed.'
And yet these duties involve much unpleasantness, whereas we cannot
mention a holier work, nor any struggle or contest more fitting for a
god to attend and play the umpire in, than the guidance of the young and
beautiful in the prosecution of their love-affairs. For there is here
nothing of an unpleasant nature, no compulsion of any kind, but
persuasion and grace, truly making toil sweet and labour delightful,
lead the way to virtue and friendship, and do not arrive at that desired
goal without the deity, for they have as their leader and lord no other
god than Love, the companion of the Muses and Graces and Aphrodite. For
Love 'sowing in the heart of man the sweet harvest of desire,' to borrow
the language of Melanippides, mixes the sweetest and most beautiful
things together. But perhaps you are of a different opinion, Zeuxippus."
Sec. XVI. "Not I, by Zeus," replied Zeuxippus. "To have a different opinion
would be ridiculous." "Then," continued my father, "is it not also
ridiculous, if there are four kinds of friendship, for so the ancients
distinguished, the natural first, the second that to one's kindred, the
third that to one's companions, the fourth the friendship of love, and
each of the first three have a god as patron, either a god of
friendship, or a god of hospitality, or a god of the family, or a god of
the race,[101] whereas the friendship of love only, as something
altogether unholy, is left without any patron god, and that, too, when
it needs most of all attentive direction?" "It is," said Zeuxippus,
"highly ridiculous." My father continued, "The language of Plato is very
suggestive here, to make a slight digression. One kind of madness (he
says) is conveyed to the soul from the body through certain bad
temperaments or mixtures, or through the prevalence of some noxious
spirit, and is harsh, difficult to cure, and baneful. Another kind of
madness is not uninspired or from within, but an afflatus from without,
a deviation from sober reason, originated and set in motion by some
higher power, the ordinary characteristic of which is called enthusiasm.
For, as one full of breath is called [Greek: empnoos], and as one full
of sense is called [Greek: emphron], so the name enthusiasm is given to
the commotion of the soul caused by some Divine agency.[102] Thus there
is the prophetic enthusiasm which proceeds from Apollo, and the Bacchic
enthusiasm which comes from Dionysus, to which Sophocles alludes where
he says, 'Dance with the Corybantes;' for the rites of Cybele and Pan
have great affinities to the orgies of Bacchus. And the third madness
proceeds from the Muses, and possesses an impressionable and pure soul,
and stirs up the poetry and music in a man. As to the martial and
warlike madness, it is well known from what god it proceeds, namely,
Ares, 'kindling tearful war, that puts an end to the dance and the song,
and exciting civic strife.'[103] There remains, Daphnaeus, one more kind
of madness in man, neither obscure nor tranquil, as to which I should
like to ask Pemptides here,
'What god it is that shakes the fruitful thyrsus?'
I refer to that love-fury for modest boys and chaste women, which is
far the keenest and fiercest passion of all. For have you not observed
how the soldier, when he lays aside his arms, ceases from his warlike
fury, as the poet says,
'Then from him
Right gladly did his squires remove the armour,'[104]
and sits down a peaceful spectator of others?[105] The Bacchic and
Corybantic dances one can also modulate and quell, by changing the metre
from the trochaic and the measure from the Phrygian. Similarly, too, the
Pythian priestess, when she descends from her tripod, possesses her soul
in peace. Whereas the love-fury, when once it has really seized on a man
and inflamed him, can be laid by no Muse, no charm or incantation, no
change of place; but present they burn, absent they desire, by day they
follow their loves about, by night they serenade them, sober call for
them, and drunken sing about them. And he who said that poetic fancies,
owing to their vividness, were dreams of people awake, would have more
truly spoken so of the fancies of lovers, who, as if their loves were
present, converse with them, greet them, chide them. For sight seems to
paint all other fancies on a wet ground, so soon do they fade and recede
from the memory, but the images of lovers, painted by the fancy as it
were on encaustic tiles, leave impressions on the memory, that move, and
live, and speak, and are permanent for all time. The Roman Cato, indeed,
said that the soul of the lover resided in the soul of the loved one,
and I should extend the remark to the appearance, the character, the
life, and the actions, conducted by which he travels a long journey in a
short time, as the Cynics say they have found a short cut and, as it
were, forced march to virtue, for there is also a short cut to
friendship and love when the god is propitious. To sum up, the
enthusiasm of lovers is not a thing uninspired, and the god that guides
and governs it is none other than the god whose festival we are now
keeping, and to whom we are now sacrificing. Nevertheless, as we judge
of a god mainly from his power and usefulness (as among human advantages
we reckon and call these two the most divine, dominion and virtue), it
is high time to consider, before we proceed any further, whether Love
yields to any of the gods in power. Certainly, as Sophocles says,
'Wonderful is the power which the Cyprian Queen exerts so as always to
win the victory:'[106] great also is the might of Ares; and in some sort
we see the power of all the other gods divided among these two; for
Aphrodite has most intimate connection with the beautiful, and Ares is
in our souls from the first to combat against the sordid, to borrow the
idea of Plato. Let us consider, then, to begin with, that the venereal
delight can be purchased for six obols, and that no one ever yet put
himself into any trouble or danger about it, unless he was in love. And
not to mention here such famous courtesans as Phryne or Lais,
Gnathaenium, 'kindling her lamp at evening time,' on the look-out for
lovers and inviting them, is often passed by; 'yet, if some sudden whiff
arise' of mighty love and desire, it makes this very delight seem equal
to the fabled wealth of Tantalus and his domains. So feeble and cloying
is the venereal indulgence, if Love inspires it not. And you will see
this more plainly still from the following consideration. Many have
allowed others to share in their venereal enjoyments, prostituting not
only their mistresses but their wives, like that Roman Galba, who used
to ask Maecenas to dinner, and when he saw from his nods and winks that
he had a mind to do with his wife, turned his head gently aside as if
asleep; but when one of his slaves came up to the table and stole some
wine, his eyes were wide open enough, and he said, 'Villain, don't you
know that I am asleep only for Maecenas?'[107] But this is not perhaps so
strange, considering Galba was a buffoon. But at Argos Nicostratus and
Phayllus were great political rivals: so when King Philip visited that
city, Phayllus thought if he prostituted his wife, who was very
handsome, to the King, he would get from him some important office or
place. And Nicostratus getting wind of this, and walking about the doors
of Phayllus' house with some of his servants on the _qui vive_,
Phayllus made his wife put on men's boots, and a military cloak, and a
Macedonian broad-brimmed hat, and so smuggled her into the King, without
being detected, as one of the King's young men. But, of all the
multitude of lovers, did you ever hear of one that prostituted his
boy-love even for the honours of Zeus? I think not. Why, though no one
will generally either speak or act against tyrants, many will who find
them their rivals and are jealous about their handsome minions. You must
have heard how Aristogiton of Athens, and Antileon of Metapontum, and
Melanippus of Agrigentum, rose not against tyrants, although they saw
how badly they managed affairs, and what drunken tricks they played,
yet, when they attempted the chastity of their boy-loves, they
retaliated on them, jeoparding their lives, as if they were defending
the inviolability of temples and sanctuaries. It is also recorded that
Alexander wrote to Theodoras, the brother of Proteas, 'Send me your
singing-girl, unless you love her yourself, and I will give you ten
talents;' and when Antipatridas, one of his companions, came to revel
with him, bringing with him a female harper, he fancied the girl not a
little, and asked Antipatridas if he cared very much about her. And when
he replied that he did immensely, Alexander said, 'Plague take you,' but
nevertheless abstained from touching the girl.
Sec. XVII. "Consider also how Love excels in warlike feats, and is by no
means idle, as Euripides called him,[108] nor a carpet-knight, nor
'sleeping on a maiden's soft cheeks.'[109] For a man inspired by Love
needs not Ares to help him when he goes out as a warrior against the
enemy, but at the bidding of his own god is 'ready' for his friend 'to
go through fire and water and whirlwinds.' And in Sophocles' play,[110]
when the sons of Niobe are being shot at and dying, one of them calls
out for no helper or assister but his lover. And you know of course how
it was that Cleomachus the Pharsalian fell in battle?" "We certainly
don't," said Pemptides and those near him, "but we should very much like
to." "Well," said my father, "the tale's worth hearing. When the war
between the Eretrians and Chalcidians was at its height, Cleomachus had
come to aid the latter with a Thessalian force; and the Chalcidian
infantry seemed strong enough, but they had great difficulty in
repelling the enemy's cavalry. So they begged that high-souled hero
Cleomachus to charge the Eretrian cavalry first. And he asked his
boy-love, who was by, if he would be a spectator of the fight, and he
saying he would, and affectionately kissing him and putting his helmet
on his head, Cleomachus with a proud joy put himself at the head of the
bravest of the Thessalians, and charged the enemy's cavalry with such
impetuosity that he threw them into disorder and routed them; and the
Eretrian infantry also fleeing in consequence, the Chalcidians won a
splendid victory. However, Cleomachus got killed, and they show his tomb
in the market-place at Chalcis, over which a huge pillar stands to this