<p>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.</p>
<p>Eryximachus spoke as follows: Seeing that Pausanias made a fair beginning,
and but a lame ending, I must endeavour to supply his deficiency. I think
that he has rightly distinguished two kinds of love. But my art further
informs me that the double love is not merely an affection of the soul of
man towards the fair, or towards anything, but is to be found in the
bodies of all animals and in productions of the earth, and I may say in
all that is; such is the conclusion which I seem to have gathered from my
own art of medicine, whence I learn how great and wonderful and universal
is the deity of love, whose empire extends over all things, divine as well
as human. And from medicine I will begin that I may do honour to my art.
There are in the human body these two kinds of love, which are confessedly
different and unlike, and being unlike, they have loves and desires which
are unlike; and the desire of the healthy is one, and the desire of the
diseased is another; and as Pausanias was just now saying that to indulge
good men is honourable, and bad men dishonourable:—so too in the
body the good and healthy elements are to be indulged, and the bad
elements and the elements of disease are not to be indulged, but
discouraged. And this is what the physician has to do, and in this the art
of medicine consists: for medicine may be regarded generally as the
knowledge of the loves and desires of the body, and how to satisfy them or
not; and the best physician is he who is able to separate fair love from
foul, or to convert one into the other; and he who knows how to eradicate
and how to implant love, whichever is required, and can reconcile the most
hostile elements in the constitution and make them loving friends, is a
skilful practitioner. Now the most hostile are the most opposite, such as
hot and cold, bitter and sweet, moist and dry, and the like. And my
ancestor, Asclepius, knowing how to implant friendship and accord in these
elements, was the creator of our art, as our friends the poets here tell
us, and I believe them; and not only medicine in every branch but the arts
of gymnastic and husbandry are under his dominion. Any one who pays the
least attention to the subject will also perceive that in music there is
the same reconciliation of opposites; and I suppose that this must have
been the meaning of Heracleitus, although his words are not accurate; for
he says that The One is united by disunion, like the harmony of the bow
and the lyre. Now there is an absurdity saying that harmony is discord or
is composed of elements which are still in a state of discord. But what he
probably meant was, that harmony is composed of differing notes of higher
or lower pitch which disagreed once, but are now reconciled by the art of
music; for if the higher and lower notes still disagreed, there could be
no harmony,—clearly not. For harmony is a symphony, and symphony is
an agreement; but an agreement of disagreements while they disagree there
cannot be; you cannot harmonize that which disagrees. In like manner
rhythm is compounded of elements short and long, once differing and now in
accord; which accordance, as in the former instance, medicine, so in all
these other cases, music implants, making love and unison to grow up among
them; and thus music, too, is concerned with the principles of love in
their application to harmony and rhythm. Again, in the essential nature of
harmony and rhythm there is no difficulty in discerning love which has not
yet become double. But when you want to use them in actual life, either in
the composition of songs or in the correct performance of airs or metres
composed already, which latter is called education, then the difficulty
begins, and the good artist is needed. Then the old tale has to be
repeated of fair and heavenly love—the love of Urania the fair and
heavenly muse, and of the duty of accepting the temperate, and those who
are as yet intemperate only that they may become temperate, and of
preserving their love; and again, of the vulgar Polyhymnia, who must be
used with circumspection that the pleasure be enjoyed, but may not
generate licentiousness; just as in my own art it is a great matter so to
regulate the desires of the epicure that he may gratify his tastes without
the attendant evil of disease. Whence I infer that in music, in medicine,
in all other things human as well as divine, both loves ought to be noted
as far as may be, for they are both present.</p>
<p>The course of the seasons is also full of both these principles; and when,
as I was saying, the elements of hot and cold, moist and dry, attain the
harmonious love of one another and blend in temperance and harmony, they
bring to men, animals, and plants health and plenty, and do them no harm;
whereas the wanton love, getting the upper hand and affecting the seasons
of the year, is very destructive and injurious, being the source of
pestilence, and bringing many other kinds of diseases on animals and
plants; for hoar-frost and hail and blight spring from the excesses and
disorders of these elements of love, which to know in relation to the
revolutions of the heavenly bodies and the seasons of the year is termed
astronomy. Furthermore all sacrifices and the whole province of
divination, which is the art of communion between gods and men—these,
I say, are concerned only with the preservation of the good and the cure
of the evil love. For all manner of impiety is likely to ensue if, instead
of accepting and honouring and reverencing the harmonious love in all his
actions, a man honours the other love, whether in his feelings towards
gods or parents, towards the living or the dead. Wherefore the business of
divination is to see to these loves and to heal them, and divination is
the peacemaker of gods and men, working by a knowledge of the religious or
irreligious tendencies which exist in human loves. Such is the great and
mighty, or rather omnipotent force of love in general. And the love, more
especially, which is concerned with the good, and which is perfected in
company with temperance and justice, whether among gods or men, has the
greatest power, and is the source of all our happiness and harmony, and
makes us friends with the gods who are above us, and with one another. I
dare say that I too have omitted several things which might be said in
praise of Love, but this was not intentional, and you, Aristophanes, may
now supply the omission or take some other line of commendation; for I
perceive that you are rid of the hiccough.</p>
<p>Yes, said Aristophanes, who followed, the hiccough is gone; not, however,
until I applied the sneezing; and I wonder whether the harmony of the body
has a love of such noises and ticklings, for I no sooner applied the
sneezing than I was cured.</p>
<p>Eryximachus said: Beware, friend Aristophanes, although you are going to
speak, you are making fun of me; and I shall have to watch and see whether
I cannot have a laugh at your expense, when you might speak in peace.</p>
<p>You are right, said Aristophanes, laughing. I will unsay my words; but do
you please not to watch me, as I fear that in the speech which I am about
to make, instead of others laughing with me, which is to the manner born
of our muse and would be all the better, I shall only be laughed at by
them.</p>
<p>Do you expect to shoot your bolt and escape, Aristophanes? Well, perhaps
if you are very careful and bear in mind that you will be called to
account, I may be induced to let you off.</p>
<p>Aristophanes professed to open another vein of discourse; he had a mind to
praise Love in another way, unlike that either of Pausanias or
Eryximachus. Mankind, he said, judging by their neglect of him, have
never, as I think, at all understood the power of Love. For if they had
understood him they would surely have built noble temples and altars, and
offered solemn sacrifices in his honour; but this is not done, and most
certainly ought to be done: since of all the gods he is the best friend of
men, the helper and the healer of the ills which are the great impediment
to the happiness of the race. I will try to describe his power to you, and
you shall teach the rest of the world what I am teaching you. In the first
place, let me treat of the nature of man and what has happened to it; for
the original human nature was not like the present, but different. The
sexes were not two as they are now, but originally three in number; there
was man, woman, and the union of the two, having a name corresponding to
this double nature, which had once a real existence, but is now lost, and
the word 'Androgynous' is only preserved as a term of reproach. In the
second place, the primeval man was round, his back and sides forming a
circle; and he had four hands and four feet, one head with two faces,
looking opposite ways, set on a round neck and precisely alike; also four
ears, two privy members, and the remainder to correspond. He could walk
upright as men now do, backwards or forwards as he pleased, and he could
also roll over and over at a great pace, turning on his four hands and
four feet, eight in all, like tumblers going over and over with their legs
in the air; this was when he wanted to run fast. Now the sexes were three,
and such as I have described them; because the sun, moon, and earth are
three; and the man was originally the child of the sun, the woman of the
earth, and the man-woman of the moon, which is made up of sun and earth,
and they were all round and moved round and round like their parents.
Terrible was their might and strength, and the thoughts of their hearts
were great, and they made an attack upon the gods; of them is told the
tale of Otys and Ephialtes who, as Homer says, dared to scale heaven, and
would have laid hands upon the gods. Doubt reigned in the celestial
councils. Should they kill them and annihilate the race with thunderbolts,
as they had done the giants, then there would be an end of the sacrifices
and worship which men offered to them; but, on the other hand, the gods
could not suffer their insolence to be unrestrained. At last, after a good
deal of reflection, Zeus discovered a way. He said: 'Methinks I have a
plan which will humble their pride and improve their manners; men shall
continue to exist, but I will cut them in two and then they will be
diminished in strength and increased in numbers; this will have the
advantage of making them more profitable to us. They shall walk upright on
two legs, and if they continue insolent and will not be quiet, I will
split them again and they shall hop about on a single leg.' He spoke and
cut men in two, like a sorb-apple which is halved for pickling, or as you
might divide an egg with a hair; and as he cut them one after another, he
bade Apollo give the face and the half of the neck a turn in order that
the man might contemplate the section of himself: he would thus learn a
lesson of humility. Apollo was also bidden to heal their wounds and
compose their forms. So he gave a turn to the face and pulled the skin
from the sides all over that which in our language is called the belly,
like the purses which draw in, and he made one mouth at the centre, which
he fastened in a knot (the same which is called the navel); he also
moulded the breast and took out most of the wrinkles, much as a shoemaker
might smooth leather upon a last; he left a few, however, in the region of
the belly and navel, as a memorial of the primeval state. After the
division the two parts of man, each desiring his other half, came
together, and throwing their arms about one another, entwined in mutual
embraces, longing to grow into one, they were on the point of dying from
hunger and self-neglect, because they did not like to do anything apart;
and when one of the halves died and the other survived, the survivor
sought another mate, man or woman as we call them,—being the
sections of entire men or women,—and clung to that. They were being
destroyed, when Zeus in pity of them invented a new plan: he turned the
parts of generation round to the front, for this had not been always their
position, and they sowed the seed no longer as hitherto like grasshoppers
in the ground, but in one another; and after the transposition the male
generated in the female in order that by the mutual embraces of man and
woman they might breed, and the race might continue; or if man came to man
they might be satisfied, and rest, and go their ways to the business of
life: so ancient is the desire of one another which is implanted in us,
reuniting our original nature, making one of two, and healing the state of
man. Each of us when separated, having one side only, like a flat fish, is
but the indenture of a man, and he is always looking for his other half.
Men who are a section of that double nature which was once called
Androgynous are lovers of women; adulterers are generally of this breed,
and also adulterous women who lust after men: the women who are a section
of the woman do not care for men, but have female attachments; the female
companions are of this sort. But they who are a section of the male follow
the male, and while they are young, being slices of the original man, they
hang about men and embrace them, and they are themselves the best of boys
and youths, because they have the most manly nature. Some indeed assert
that they are shameless, but this is not true; for they do not act thus
from any want of shame, but because they are valiant and manly, and have a
manly countenance, and they embrace that which is like them. And these
when they grow up become our statesmen, and these only, which is a great
proof of the truth of what I am saving. When they reach manhood they are
lovers of youth, and are not naturally inclined to marry or beget
children,—if at all, they do so only in obedience to the law; but
they are satisfied if they may be allowed to live with one another
unwedded; and such a nature is prone to love and ready to return love,
always embracing that which is akin to him. And when one of them meets
with his other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of
youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of
love and friendship and intimacy, and one will not be out of the other's
sight, as I may say, even for a moment: these are the people who pass
their whole lives together; yet they could not explain what they desire of
one another. For the intense yearning which each of them has towards the
other does not appear to be the desire of lover's intercourse, but of
something else which the soul of either evidently desires and cannot tell,
and of which she has only a dark and doubtful presentiment. Suppose
Hephaestus, with his instruments, to come to the pair who are lying side
by side and to say to them, 'What do you people want of one another?' they
would be unable to explain. And suppose further, that when he saw their
perplexity he said: 'Do you desire to be wholly one; always day and night
to be in one another's company? for if this is what you desire, I am ready
to melt you into one and let you grow together, so that being two you
shall become one, and while you live live a common life as if you were a
single man, and after your death in the world below still be one departed
soul instead of two—I ask whether this is what you lovingly desire,
and whether you are satisfied to attain this?'—there is not a man of
them who when he heard the proposal would deny or would not acknowledge
that this meeting and melting into one another, this becoming one instead
of two, was the very expression of his ancient need (compare Arist. Pol.).
And the reason is that human nature was originally one and we were a
whole, and the desire and pursuit of the whole is called love. There was a
time, I say, when we were one, but now because of the wickedness of
mankind God has dispersed us, as the Arcadians were dispersed into
villages by the Lacedaemonians (compare Arist. Pol.). And if we are not
obedient to the gods, there is a danger that we shall be split up again
and go about in basso-relievo, like the profile figures having only half a
nose which are sculptured on monuments, and that we shall be like tallies.
Wherefore let us exhort all men to piety, that we may avoid evil, and
obtain the good, of which Love is to us the lord and minister; and let no
one oppose him—he is the enemy of the gods who opposes him. For if
we are friends of the God and at peace with him we shall find our own true
loves, which rarely happens in this world at present. I am serious, and
therefore I must beg Eryximachus not to make fun or to find any allusion
in what I am saying to Pausanias and Agathon, who, as I suspect, are both
of the manly nature, and belong to the class which I have been describing.
But my words have a wider application—they include men and women
everywhere; and I believe that if our loves were perfectly accomplished,
and each one returning to his primeval nature had his original true love,
then our race would be happy. And if this would be best of all, the best
in the next degree and under present circumstances must be the nearest
approach to such an union; and that will be the attainment of a congenial
love. Wherefore, if we would praise him who has given to us the benefit,
we must praise the god Love, who is our greatest benefactor, both leading
us in this life back to our own nature, and giving us high hopes for the
future, for he promises that if we are pious, he will restore us to our
original state, and heal us and make us happy and blessed. This,
Eryximachus, is my discourse of love, which, although different to yours,
I must beg you to leave unassailed by the shafts of your ridicule, in
order that each may have his turn; each, or rather either, for Agathon and
Socrates are the only ones left.</p>
<p>Indeed, I am not going to attack you, said Eryximachus, for I thought your
speech charming, and did I not know that Agathon and Socrates are masters
in the art of love, I should be really afraid that they would have nothing
to say, after the world of things which have been said already. But, for
all that, I am not without hopes.</p>
<p>Socrates said: You played your part well, Eryximachus; but if you were as
I am now, or rather as I shall be when Agathon has spoken, you would,
indeed, be in a great strait.</p>
<p>You want to cast a spell over me, Socrates, said Agathon, in the hope that
I may be disconcerted at the expectation raised among the audience that I
shall speak well.</p>
<p>I should be strangely forgetful, Agathon replied Socrates, of the courage
and magnanimity which you showed when your own compositions were about to
be exhibited, and you came upon the stage with the actors and faced the
vast theatre altogether undismayed, if I thought that your nerves could be
fluttered at a small party of friends.</p>
<p>Do you think, Socrates, said Agathon, that my head is so full of the
theatre as not to know how much more formidable to a man of sense a few
good judges are than many fools?</p>
<p>Nay, replied Socrates, I should be very wrong in attributing to you,
Agathon, that or any other want of refinement. And I am quite aware that
if you happened to meet with any whom you thought wise, you would care for
their opinion much more than for that of the many. But then we, having
been a part of the foolish many in the theatre, cannot be regarded as the
select wise; though I know that if you chanced to be in the presence, not
of one of ourselves, but of some really wise man, you would be ashamed of
disgracing yourself before him—would you not?</p>
<p>Yes, said Agathon.</p>
<p>But before the many you would not be ashamed, if you thought that you were
doing something disgraceful in their presence?</p>
<p>Here Phaedrus interrupted them, saying: not answer him, my dear Agathon;
for if he can only get a partner with whom he can talk, especially a
good-looking one, he will no longer care about the completion of our plan.
Now I love to hear him talk; but just at present I must not forget the
encomium on Love which I ought to receive from him and from every one.
When you and he have paid your tribute to the god, then you may talk.</p>
<p>Very good, Phaedrus, said Agathon; I see no reason why I should not
proceed with my speech, as I shall have many other opportunities of
conversing with Socrates. Let me say first how I ought to speak, and then
speak:—</p>
<p>The previous speakers, instead of praising the god Love, or unfolding his
nature, appear to have congratulated mankind on the benefits which he
confers upon them. But I would rather praise the god first, and then speak
of his gifts; this is always the right way of praising everything. May I
say without impiety or offence, that of all the blessed gods he is the
most blessed because he is the fairest and best? And he is the fairest:
for, in the first place, he is the youngest, and of his youth he is
himself the witness, fleeing out of the way of age, who is swift enough,
swifter truly than most of us like:—Love hates him and will not come
near him; but youth and love live and move together—like to like, as
the proverb says. Many things were said by Phaedrus about Love in which I
agree with him; but I cannot agree that he is older than Iapetus and
Kronos:—not so; I maintain him to be the youngest of the gods, and
youthful ever. The ancient doings among the gods of which Hesiod and
Parmenides spoke, if the tradition of them be true, were done of Necessity
and not of Love; had Love been in those days, there would have been no
chaining or mutilation of the gods, or other violence, but peace and
sweetness, as there is now in heaven, since the rule of Love began. Love
is young and also tender; he ought to have a poet like Homer to describe
his tenderness, as Homer says of Ate, that she is a goddess and tender:—</p>
<p>'Her feet are tender, for she sets her steps, Not on the ground but on the
heads of men:'</p>
<p>herein is an excellent proof of her tenderness,—that she walks not
upon the hard but upon the soft. Let us adduce a similar proof of the
tenderness of Love; for he walks not upon the earth, nor yet upon the
skulls of men, which are not so very soft, but in the hearts and souls of
both gods and men, which are of all things the softest: in them he walks
and dwells and makes his home. Not in every soul without exception, for
where there is hardness he departs, where there is softness there he
dwells; and nestling always with his feet and in all manner of ways in the
softest of soft places, how can he be other than the softest of all
things? Of a truth he is the tenderest as well as the youngest, and also
he is of flexile form; for if he were hard and without flexure he could
not enfold all things, or wind his way into and out of every soul of man
undiscovered. And a proof of his flexibility and symmetry of form is his
grace, which is universally admitted to be in an especial manner the
attribute of Love; ungrace and love are always at war with one another.
The fairness of his complexion is revealed by his habitation among the
flowers; for he dwells not amid bloomless or fading beauties, whether of
body or soul or aught else, but in the place of flowers and scents, there
he sits and abides. Concerning the beauty of the god I have said enough;
and yet there remains much more which I might say. Of his virtue I have
now to speak: his greatest glory is that he can neither do nor suffer
wrong to or from any god or any man; for he suffers not by force if he
suffers; force comes not near him, neither when he acts does he act by
force. For all men in all things serve him of their own free will, and
where there is voluntary agreement, there, as the laws which are the lords
of the city say, is justice. And not only is he just but exceedingly
temperate, for Temperance is the acknowledged ruler of the pleasures and
desires, and no pleasure ever masters Love; he is their master and they
are his servants; and if he conquers them he must be temperate indeed. As
to courage, even the God of War is no match for him; he is the captive and
Love is the lord, for love, the love of Aphrodite, masters him, as the
tale runs; and the master is stronger than the servant. And if he conquers
the bravest of all others, he must be himself the bravest. Of his courage
and justice and temperance I have spoken, but I have yet to speak of his
wisdom; and according to the measure of my ability I must try to do my
best. In the first place he is a poet (and here, like Eryximachus, I
magnify my art), and he is also the source of poesy in others, which he
could not be if he were not himself a poet. And at the touch of him every
one becomes a poet, even though he had no music in him before (A fragment
of the Sthenoaoea of Euripides.); this also is a proof that Love is a good
poet and accomplished in all the fine arts; for no one can give to another
that which he has not himself, or teach that of which he has no knowledge.
Who will deny that the creation of the animals is his doing? Are they not
all the works of his wisdom, born and begotten of him? And as to the
artists, do we not know that he only of them whom love inspires has the
light of fame?—he whom Love touches not walks in darkness. The arts
of medicine and archery and divination were discovered by Apollo, under
the guidance of love and desire; so that he too is a disciple of Love.
Also the melody of the Muses, the metallurgy of Hephaestus, the weaving of
Athene, the empire of Zeus over gods and men, are all due to Love, who was
the inventor of them. And so Love set in order the empire of the gods—the
love of beauty, as is evident, for with deformity Love has no concern. In
the days of old, as I began by saying, dreadful deeds were done among the
gods, for they were ruled by Necessity; but now since the birth of Love,
and from the Love of the beautiful, has sprung every good in heaven and
earth. Therefore, Phaedrus, I say of Love that he is the fairest and best
in himself, and the cause of what is fairest and best in all other things.
And there comes into my mind a line of poetry in which he is said to be
the god who</p>
<p>'Gives peace on earth and calms the stormy deep, Who stills the winds and
bids the sufferer sleep.'</p>
<p>This is he who empties men of disaffection and fills them with affection,
who makes them to meet together at banquets such as these: in sacrifices,
feasts, dances, he is our lord—who sends courtesy and sends away
discourtesy, who gives kindness ever and never gives unkindness; the
friend of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the gods;
desired by those who have no part in him, and precious to those who have
the better part in him; parent of delicacy, luxury, desire, fondness,
softness, grace; regardful of the good, regardless of the evil: in every
word, work, wish, fear—saviour, pilot, comrade, helper; glory of
gods and men, leader best and brightest: in whose footsteps let every man
follow, sweetly singing in his honour and joining in that sweet strain
with which love charms the souls of gods and men. Such is the speech,
Phaedrus, half-playful, yet having a certain measure of seriousness,
which, according to my ability, I dedicate to the god.</p>
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