Symposium
love are perplexing, but in most cities they are simple and easily
intelligible; in Elis and Boeotia, and in countries having no gifts of
eloquence, they are very straightforward; the law is simply in favour of
these connexions, and no one, whether young or old, has anything to say
to their discredit; the reason being, as I suppose, that they are men
of few words in those parts, and therefore the lovers do not like the
trouble of pleading their suit. In Ionia and other places, and generally
in countries which are subject to the barbarians, the custom is held
to be dishonourable; loves of youths share the evil repute in which
philosophy and gymnastics are held, because they are inimical to
tyranny; for the interests of rulers require that their subjects should
be poor in spirit (compare Arist. Politics), and that there should be no
strong bond of friendship or society among them, which love, above all
other motives, is likely to inspire, as our Athenian tyrants learned by
experience; for the love of Aristogeiton and the constancy of Harmodius
had a strength which undid their power. And, therefore, the ill-repute
into which these attachments have fallen is to be ascribed to the evil
condition of those who make them to be ill-reputed; that is to say, to
the self-seeking of the governors and the cowardice of the governed; on
the other hand, the indiscriminate honour which is given to them in some
countries is attributable to the laziness of those who hold this opinion
of them. In our own country a far better principle prevails, but, as
I was saying, the explanation of it is rather perplexing. For, observe
that open loves are held to be more honourable than secret ones, and
that the love of the noblest and highest, even if their persons are
less beautiful than others, is especially honourable. Consider, too,
how great is the encouragement which all the world gives to the lover;
neither is he supposed to be doing anything dishonourable; but if he
succeeds he is praised, and if he fail he is blamed. And in the pursuit
of his love the custom of mankind allows him to do many strange things,
which philosophy would bitterly censure if they were done from any
motive of interest, or wish for office or power. He may pray, and
entreat, and supplicate, and swear, and lie on a mat at the door, and
endure a slavery worse than that of any slave--in any other case friends
and enemies would be equally ready to prevent him, but now there is no
friend who will be ashamed of him and admonish him, and no enemy will
charge him with meanness or flattery; the actions of a lover have a
grace which ennobles them; and custom has decided that they are highly
commendable and that there no loss of character in them; and, what is
strangest of all, he only may swear and forswear himself (so men say),
and the gods will forgive his transgression, for there is no such thing
as a lover's oath. Such is the entire liberty which gods and men have
allowed the lover, according to the custom which prevails in our part of
the world. From this point of view a man fairly argues that in Athens
to love and to be loved is held to be a very honourable thing. But when
parents forbid their sons to talk with their lovers, and place them
under a tutor's care, who is appointed to see to these things, and their
companions and equals cast in their teeth anything of the sort which
they may observe, and their elders refuse to silence the reprovers
and do not rebuke them--any one who reflects on all this will, on the
contrary, think that we hold these practices to be most disgraceful.
But, as I was saying at first, the truth as I imagine is, that whether
such practices are honourable or whether they are dishonourable is not a
simple question; they are honourable to him who follows them honourably,
dishonourable to him who follows them dishonourably. There is dishonour
in yielding to the evil, or in an evil manner; but there is honour in
yielding to the good, or in an honourable manner. Evil is the vulgar
lover who loves the body rather than the soul, inasmuch as he is not
even stable, because he loves a thing which is in itself unstable, and
therefore when the bloom of youth which he was desiring is over, he
takes wing and flies away, in spite of all his words and promises;
whereas the love of the noble disposition is life-long, for it becomes
one with the everlasting. The custom of our country would have both of
them proven well and truly, and would have us yield to the one sort of
lover and avoid the other, and therefore encourages some to pursue,
and others to fly; testing both the lover and beloved in contests and
trials, until they show to which of the two classes they respectively
belong. And this is the reason why, in the first place, a hasty
attachment is held to be dishonourable, because time is the true test of
this as of most other things; and secondly there is a dishonour in being
overcome by the love of money, or of wealth, or of political power,
whether a man is frightened into surrender by the loss of them, or,
having experienced the benefits of money and political corruption, is
unable to rise above the seductions of them. For none of these things
are of a permanent or lasting nature; not to mention that no generous
friendship ever sprang from them. There remains, then, only one way of
honourable attachment which custom allows in the beloved, and this is
the way of virtue; for as we admitted that any service which the lover
does to him is not to be accounted flattery or a dishonour to himself,
so the beloved has one way only of voluntary service which is not
dishonourable, and this is virtuous service.
For we have a custom, and according to our custom any one who does
service to another under the idea that he will be improved by him either
in wisdom, or in some other particular of virtue--such a voluntary
service, I say, is not to be regarded as a dishonour, and is not open
to the charge of flattery. And these two customs, one the love of youth,
and the other the practice of philosophy and virtue in general, ought to
meet in one, and then the beloved may honourably indulge the lover. For
when the lover and beloved come together, having each of them a law, and
the lover thinks that he is right in doing any service which he can to
his gracious loving one; and the other that he is right in showing any
kindness which he can to him who is making him wise and good; the one
capable of communicating wisdom and virtue, the other seeking to acquire
them with a view to education and wisdom, when the two laws of love are
fulfilled and meet in one--then, and then only, may the beloved yield
with honour to the lover. Nor when love is of this disinterested sort is
there any disgrace in being deceived, but in every other case there is
equal disgrace in being or not being deceived. For he who is gracious to
his lover under the impression that he is rich, and is disappointed of
his gains because he turns out to be poor, is disgraced all the same:
for he has done his best to show that he would give himself up to any
one's 'uses base' for the sake of money; but this is not honourable. And
on the same principle he who gives himself to a lover because he is a
good man, and in the hope that he will be improved by his company, shows
himself to be virtuous, even though the object of his affection turn
out to be a villain, and to have no virtue; and if he is deceived he has
committed a noble error. For he has proved that for his part he will do
anything for anybody with a view to virtue and improvement, than which
there can be nothing nobler. Thus noble in every case is the acceptance
of another for the sake of virtue. This is that love which is the
love of the heavenly godess, and is heavenly, and of great price to
individuals and cities, making the lover and the beloved alike eager in
the work of their own improvement. But all other loves are the offspring
of the other, who is the common goddess. To you, Phaedrus, I offer this
my contribution in praise of love, which is as good as I could make
extempore.
Pausanias came to a pause--this is the balanced way in which I have
been taught by the wise to speak; and Aristodemus said that the turn of
Aristophanes was next, but either he had eaten too much, or from some
other cause he had the hiccough, and was obliged to change turns with
Eryximachus the physician, who was reclining on the couch below him.
Eryximachus, he said, you ought either to stop my hiccough, or to speak
in my turn until I have left off.
I will do both, said Eryximachus: I will speak in your turn, and do you
speak in mine; and while I am speaking let me recommend you to hold your
breath, and if after you have done so for some time the hiccough is
no better, then gargle with a little water; and if it still continues,
tickle your nose with something and sneeze; and if you sneeze once or
twice, even the most violent hiccough is sure to go. I will do as you
prescribe, said Aristophanes, and now get on.
Eryximachus spoke as follows: Seeing that Pausanias made a fair
beginning, and but a lame ending, I must endeavour to supply his
deficiency. I think that he has rightly distinguished two kinds of love.
But my art further informs me that the double love is not merely an
affection of the soul of man towards the fair, or towards anything, but
is to be found in the bodies of all animals and in productions of the
earth, and I may say in all that is; such is the conclusion which I seem
to have gathered from my own art of medicine, whence I learn how great
and wonderful and universal is the deity of love, whose empire extends
over all things, divine as well as human. And from medicine I will begin
that I may do honour to my art. There are in the human body these two
kinds of love, which are confessedly different and unlike, and being
unlike, they have loves and desires which are unlike; and the desire of
the healthy is one, and the desire of the diseased is another; and as
Pausanias was just now saying that to indulge good men is honourable,
and bad men dishonourable:--so too in the body the good and healthy
elements are to be indulged, and the bad elements and the elements of
disease are not to be indulged, but discouraged. And this is what the
physician has to do, and in this the art of medicine consists: for
medicine may be regarded generally as the knowledge of the loves and
desires of the body, and how to satisfy them or not; and the best
physician is he who is able to separate fair love from foul, or to
convert one into the other; and he who knows how to eradicate and how to
implant love, whichever is required, and can reconcile the most hostile
elements in the constitution and make them loving friends, is a skilful
practitioner. Now the most hostile are the most opposite, such as
hot and cold, bitter and sweet, moist and dry, and the like. And my
ancestor, Asclepius, knowing how to implant friendship and accord in
these elements, was the creator of our art, as our friends the poets
here tell us, and I believe them; and not only medicine in every branch
but the arts of gymnastic and husbandry are under his dominion. Any one
who pays the least attention to the subject will also perceive that in
music there is the same reconciliation of opposites; and I suppose that
this must have been the meaning of Heracleitus, although his words are
not accurate; for he says that The One is united by disunion, like the
harmony of the bow and the lyre. Now there is an absurdity saying that
harmony is discord or is composed of elements which are still in a state
of discord. But what he probably meant was, that harmony is composed of
differing notes of higher or lower pitch which disagreed once, but are
now reconciled by the art of music; for if the higher and lower notes