; this ancestor was himself begotten of Zeus by the daughter of the
founder of the deme. And these are the sort of old wives' tales which he
sings and recites to us, and we are obliged to listen to him.

When I heard this, I said: O ridiculous Hippothales! how can you be
making and singing hymns in honour of yourself before you have won?

But my songs and verses, he said, are not in honour of myself, Socrates.

You think not? I said.

Nay, but what do you think? he replied.

Most assuredly, I said, those songs are all in your own honour; for if
you win your beautiful love, your discourses and songs will be a glory
to you, and may be truly regarded as hymns of praise composed in honour
of you who have conquered and won such a love; but if he slips away from
you, the more you have praised him, the more ridiculous you will look at
having lost this fairest and best of blessings; and therefore the wise
lover does not praise his beloved until he has won him, because he is
afraid of accidents. There is also another danger; the fair, when any
one praises or magnifies them, are filled with the spirit of pride and
vain-glory. Do you not agree with me?

Yes, he said.

And the more vain-glorious they are, the more difficult is the capture
of them?

I believe you.

What should you say of a hunter who frightened away his prey, and made
the capture of the animals which he is hunting more difficult?

He would be a bad hunter, undoubtedly.

Yes; and if, instead of soothing them, he were to infuriate them with
words and songs, that would show a great want of wit: do you not agree.

Yes.

And now reflect, Hippothales, and see whether you are not guilty of all
these errors in writing poetry. For I can hardly suppose that you will
affirm a man to be a good poet who injures himself by his poetry.

Assuredly not, he said; such a poet would be a fool. And this is the
reason why I take you into my counsels, Socrates, and I shall be glad of
any further advice which you may have to offer. Will you tell me by what
words or actions I may become endeared to my love?

That is not easy to determine, I said; but if you will bring your love
to me, and will let me talk with him, I may perhaps be able to show you
how to converse with him, instead of singing and reciting in the fashion
of which you are accused.

There will be no difficulty in bringing him, he replied; if you will
only go with Ctesippus into the Palaestra, and sit down an