Symposium

I say, Agathon: do not be deceived by this man, but learn from our sufferings and be on your guard, and do not, as the proverb has it, learn by suffering, like a fool.”¹

222cNow when Alcibiades had said this, laughter arose at his frankness, because he seemed still to be disposed by love towards Socrates. So Socrates said, “You seem to me to be sober, Alcibiades.² For you would never so cleverly, throwing a circle round yourself, have undertaken to hide what you have said all this for, and put it at the end, as though, of course, you were saying it by the way, as if you had not said everything for the sake of this: 222d to set me and Agathon at odds, thinking that I must be in love with you and with no one else, and that Agathon must be loved by you and not by a single other. But you have not escaped notice: this satyr and silenus play of yours has become quite plain.³ But, my friend Agathon, let him get nothing more by it, but make ready, so that no one sets me and you at odds.”

So Agathon said, “Indeed, Socrates, it looks like 222e you are telling the truth. I take it as evidence, too, that he lay down between me and you, so as to keep us apart.⁴ So he will get nothing more by it, but I will come and lie down beside you.”

“Certainly,” said Socrates; “lie down here, below me.”

“O Zeus,” said Alcibiades, “what I suffer again at this person’s hands! He thinks he must surpass me at every point. But if nothing else, you marvellous man, let Agathon recline between us.”

“But it is impossible,” said Socrates. “For you have praised me, and I in turn must praise the man on my right.⁵ So if Agathon lies down below you, he will not, surely, praise me over again