He was not easily
persuaded to come; he did, however, after a while accept the invitation,
and when he came the first time, he wanted to go away at once as soon as
supper was over, and I had not the face to detain him. The second
time, still in pursuance of my design, after we had supped, I went
on conversing far into the night, and when he wanted to go away, I
pretended that the hour was late and that he had much better remain. So
he lay down on the couch next to me, the same on which he had supped,
and there was no one but ourselves sleeping in the apartment. All this
may be told without shame to any one. But what follows I could hardly
tell you if I were sober. Yet as the proverb says, 'In vino veritas,'
whether with boys, or without them (In allusion to two proverbs.); and
therefore I must speak. Nor, again, should I be justified in concealing
the lofty actions of Socrates when I come to praise him. Moreover I
have felt the serpent's sting; and he who has suffered, as they say, is
willing to tell his fellow-sufferers only, as they alone will be likely
to understand him, and will not be extreme in judging of the sayings or
doings which have been wrung from his agony. For I have been bitten by a
more than viper's tooth; I have known in my soul, or in my heart, or in
some other part, that worst of pangs, more violent in ingenuous youth
than any serpent's tooth, the pang of philosophy, which will make a man
say or do anything. And you whom I see around me, Phaedrus and Agathon
and Eryximachus and Pausanias and Aristodemus and Aristophanes, all of
you, and I need not say Socrates himself, have had experience of the
same madness and passion in your longing after wisdom. Therefore listen
and excuse my doings then and my sayings now. But let the attendants and
other profane and unmannered persons close up the doors of their ears.

When the lamp was put out and the servants had gone away, I thought that
I must be plain with him and have no more ambiguity. So I gave him a
shake, and I said: 'Socrates, are you asleep?' 'No,' he said. 'Do
you know what I am meditating? 'What are you meditating?' he said. 'I
think,' I replied, 'that of all the lovers whom I have ever had you are
the only one who is worthy of me, and you appear to be too modest to
speak. Now I feel that I should be a fool to refuse you this or any
other favour, and therefore I come to lay at your feet all that I have
and all that my friends have, in the hope that