Phaedrus

SOCRATES: Do you not understand that at the beginning of a politician’s written decree, first of all, the name of his praiser is written? PHAEDRUS: How so? SOCRATES: “It seemed good,” it says somewhere, “to the council or to the people, or to both,” and “so-and-so proposed”—by which the writer refers to himself very solemnly and praises himself—and then after this he speaks, displaying his own wisdom to his praisers, sometimes having made a very long document; does such a thing seem to you to be anything else than a written speech? PHAEDRUS: Not to me, indeed. SOCRATES: Therefore, if this decree remains, the poet departs from the theater rejoicing; but if it is erased and he is deprived of speech-writing and of being worthy of writing documents, both he and his companions mourn. PHAEDRUS: Very much so. SOCRATES: It is clear, then, that they do so not as looking down on the practice, but as admiring it. PHAEDRUS: Quite so. SOCRATES: What then? When a rhetor or a king becomes capable, so that taking the power of Lycurgus or Solon or Darius, he becomes an immortal speech-writer in a city, does he not consider himself equal to the gods while still living, and do not those who come after think these very same things about him when they gaze upon his writings? PHAEDRUS: Very much so. SOCRATES: Do you think, then, that any of such men, whoever is in any way ill-disposed toward Lysias, would reproach him for this very thing, that he writes? PHAEDRUS: It is indeed not likely, from what you say; for he would, it seems, be reproaching his own desire. SOCRATES: This, then, is clear to everyone: that writing speeches itself is not shameful. PHAEDRUS: Why should it be? SOCRATES: But that, I think, is indeed shameful, namely, speaking and writing not well, but shamefully and badly. PHAEDRUS: That is indeed clear. SOCRATES: What then is the way of writing well and not? Do we need at all, Phaedrus, to examine Lysias on these matters, and anyone else who has ever written or will write anything, whether a political document or a private one, in meter as a poet or without meter as a private citizen? PHAEDRUS: You ask if we need to? For what else indeed, so to speak, would anyone live, if not for the sake of such pleasures? For surely not for the sake of those pleasures which must be preceded by pain, or else not be enjoyed at all, which is the case with almost all the pleasures concerning the body; wherefore they are also justly called slavish.

​SOCRATES: We have leisure, indeed, as it seems; and at the same time, it seems to me that the cicadas, singing above our heads in the heat and conversing with one another, are looking down on us as well. If, then, they should see us two as well, just like the many, not conversing in the midday but dozing and being enchanted by them through laziness of mind, they would justly laugh at us, thinking that some slaves had come to their resting place to sleep like sheep resting at noon around the spring; but if they see us conversing and sailing past them as if they were Sirens without being enchanted, they might perhaps, in admiration, give us the gift which they have from the gods to give to humans. PHAEDRUS: What is this gift that they have? For I happen to be unheard of it, as it seems. SOCRATES: It is indeed not fitting for a lover of the Muses to be unheard of such things. It is said that these were once humans before the Muses came to be; but when the Muses were born and song appeared, some of those of that time were so shocked by pleasure that in singing they neglected food and drink, and died without noticing it. From these, the race of cicadas grew after that, having received this gift from the Muses: to need no nourishment once they are born, but to sing immediately without food and without drink until they die, and after that, going to the Muses, to report who honors which of them among those here. To Terpsichore, then, by reporting those who have honored her in the dances, they make them more beloved; and to Erato, those who have honored her in love affairs; and to the others likewise, according to the form of honor of each. And to the oldest, Calliope, and to the one after her, Urania, they report those who spend their lives in philosophy and honor their music, since these Muses, most of all, being concerned with heaven and with discourses both divine and human, send forth the most beautiful voice. For many reasons, therefore, we must say something and not sleep in the midday. PHAEDRUS: We must indeed speak. SOCRATES: Therefore, what we just proposed to consider, namely, in what way a speech is well spoken and written, and in what way not, must be considered. PHAEDRUS: Clearly. SOCRATES: Must there not then be present, for what is to be spoken well and beautifully, the mind of the speaker knowing the truth of those things about which he is going to speak?