d
as good a one as he could: the turn was passed round from left to right;
and as all of us have spoken, and you have not spoken but have well
drunken, you ought to speak, and then impose upon Socrates any task
which you please, and he on his right hand neighbour, and so on.

That is good, Eryximachus, said Alcibiades; and yet the comparison of
a drunken man's speech with those of sober men is hardly fair; and
I should like to know, sweet friend, whether you really believe what
Socrates was just now saying; for I can assure you that the very reverse
is the fact, and that if I praise any one but himself in his presence,
whether God or man, he will hardly keep his hands off me.

For shame, said Socrates.

Hold your tongue, said Alcibiades, for by Poseidon, there is no one else
whom I will praise when you are of the company.

Well then, said Eryximachus, if you like praise Socrates.

What do you think, Eryximachus? said Alcibiades: shall I attack him and
inflict the punishment before you all?

What are you about? said Socrates; are you going to raise a laugh at my
expense? Is that the meaning of your praise?

I am going to speak the truth, if you will permit me.

I not only permit, but exhort you to speak the truth.

Then I will begin at once, said Alcibiades, and if I say anything which
is not true, you may interrupt me if you will, and say 'that is a lie,'
though my intention is to speak the truth. But you must not wonder if
I speak any how as things come into my mind; for the fluent and orderly
enumeration of all your singularities is not a task which is easy to a
man in my condition.

And now, my boys, I shall praise Socrates in a figure which will appear
to him to be a caricature, and yet I speak, not to make fun of him, but
only for the truth's sake. I say, that he is exactly like the busts of
Silenus, which are set up in the statuaries' shops, holding pipes and
flutes in their mouths; and they are made to open in the middle, and
have images of gods inside them. I say also that he is like Marsyas the
satyr. You yourself will not deny, Socrates, that your face is like that
of a satyr. Aye, and there is a resemblance in other points too. For
example, you are a bully, as I can prove by witnesses, if you will not
confess. And are you not a flute-player? That you are, and a performer
far more wonderful than Marsyas. He indeed with instruments used to
charm the souls of men by the power of his breath, and the pl