Plato, Phaedrus

 

Socrates: My dear Phaedrus, (W} fi/le Fai=dre) where is it you’re going, (poi= dh/) and where have you come from? (kai\ po/qen;)

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Digenes Laertius in his Life of Plato writes that ‘when Plato was about to compete for the prize with a tragedy (me/llwn a0gwniei=sqai tragw|di/a|), he listened to Socrates in front of the theatre of Dionysus (pro\ tou= Dionusiakou= qea/trou Swkra/touj a0kou/saj), and then consigned his poems to the flames (kate/flece ta\ poih/mata), with the words (ei0pw&n)

Come hither O fire god (H#faiste, pro/mol’ w{de), Plato now has need of thee (Pla/twn nu/ ti sei=o xati/zei)

From that time onward, having reached his twentieth year, so it is said (tou0nteu=qen dh\ gegonw~j, fasi/n, ei1kosin e1th), he was the pupil of Socrates (dih/kouse Swkra/touj).

The Phaedrus bares the marks of Plato’s preceding literary occupation: his writing of tragedies. The abrupt poi= dh/ ‘where then’ [are you going] kai\ po/qen; ‘and wherefrom’ [are you coming] tells us that the two, Socrates and Phaedrus, are familiar with each other.

There is one more passage in Diogenes’ Life of Plato, which was essential for prompting me to work on Plato: ‘There is a story (lo/goj de/) that the Phaedrus was his first dialogue (prw~ton gra/yai ai0to\n to\n Fai=dron).’ I believed it important to attempt to view Plato on this basis, which made me an outcast in the academic circles of classical philosophers and classicists. Twentieth century Platonic studies were dominated by developmental theories of Plato’s thought; in the Phaedrus Plato’s philosophy, his theory of Forms, is presented in a nutshell. In the Phaedrus Plato introduced the theory with a clarion call:

‘The region above the heavens (To\n de\ u9peroura/nion to/pon) has never yet been celebrated as it deserves by any earthly poet, nor will it ever be (ou1te tij u3mnhse/ pw tw~n th|=de poihth/j ou1te pote\ u9mnh/sei kat’ aci/an). But it is like this (e1xei de\ w{de) – for one must be bold enough to say what is true (tolmhte/on ga\r ou]n to/ ge a0lhqe\j ei0pei=n), especially when speaking about truth (a1llwj te kai\ peri\ a0lhqei/aj le/gonta). This region is occupied by being which really is, which is without colour or shape, intangible, observable by the steersman of the soul alone, by intellect, and to which the class of true knowledge relates (h9 ga\r a0xrw&mato/j te kai\ a0sxhma/tistoj kai\ a0nafh\j ou0si/a o1ntwj ou]sa, yuxh=j kubernh/th| mo/nw| qeath\ nw~|, peri\ h4n to\ th=j a0lhqou\j e0pisth/mhj ge/noj, tou=ton e1xei to\n to/pon).’ (Phdr. 247c3-d1)

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Phaedrus: From Lysias (Para\ Lusi/ou), son of Cephalus, Socrates (w] Sw/kratej, tou= Kefa/lou); and I’m going for a walk outside the wall (poreu/omai pro\j peri/paton e1cw tei=xouj), because I spent a long time sitting there (suxno\n ga\r e0kei= die/triya xro/non kaqh/menoj), since sun-up (e0c e9wqinou=). I’m doing what your friend and mine, Acumenus, advises (tw|~ de\ sw~| kai\ e0mw|~ e9tai/rw| peiqo/menoj A)koume/nw|), and taking my walks along the country roads (kata\ ta=j o9dou\j poiou=mai ta\j peripa/touj); he says (fhsi\ ga/r) that walking here is more refreshing (a0kopwte/rouj ei]nai) than in the collonades (tw~n e0n toi=j dro/moij).

Socrates: He’s right in saying so, my friend (Kalw~j ga/r, w~ e(tai=re, le/gei). So it seems Lysias was in the city (a0ta\r Lusi/aj h]n, w(j e1oiken, e0n a1stei).

Phaedrus: Yes (Nai/), at Epikrates’ house (par’ E)pikra/tei), the one Morychus used to live in, near the temple of Oympian Zeus (Nai/, par’ E)pikra/tei, e0n th|=de th=| plhsi/on tou= O)lumpi/ou oi0ki/a| th=| Moruxi/a).

Socrates: So then how did you spend your time (Ti/j ou]n dh\ h]n h9 diatribh/;)? Obviously Lysias was feasting you all with his speeches (h2 dh=lon o3ti tw~n lo/gwn u9ma=j Lusi/aj ei9sti/a;)?

Phaedrus: You’ll find about that (Peu/sh), if you have the leisure (ei1 soi sxolh/) to walk along and listen (proi+o/nti a0kou/ein).

Socrates: What (Ti/ de/;)? Don’t you think I shall be likely to regard it (ou0k a2n oi1ei me) – to quote Pindar (kata\ Pi/ndaron) – as ‘a thing above even want of leisure’ (kai\ “a0sxoli/aj u9pe/rteron pra=gma” poih/sesqai), to hear how you and Lysias spent your time (to\ sh/n te kai\ Lusi/ou diatribh\n a0kou=sai;)?

Phaedrus: Well then, lead on (Pro/age dh/).

Socrates: Please tell me (Le/goij a1n).

Phaedrus: Certainly (Kai\ mh/n), Socrates (w} Sw&kratej), and it will be quite appropriate for you to hear (prosh/kousa ge/ soi h9 a0koh/), because the speech (o9 ga/r toi lo/goj) on which we were spending our time was, I tell you, in a certain sort of way about love (h]n, peri\ o4n dietri/bomen, ou1k oi]d’ o3ntina tro/pon e0rwtiko/j). Lysias has represented someone beautiful being propositioned (ge/grafe ga\r dh\ o9 Lusi/aj peirw&meno/n tina tw~n kalw~n), but not by a lover (ou0x u9p’ e0rastou= de/) – indeed that’s just the subtlety of his invention (a0ll’ au0to\ de\ tou~to kai\ keko/myeutai): he says that favours should be granted (le/gei ga\r w(j xariste/on) to a man who is not in love (mh\ e0rw~nti) rather (ma=llon) than to one who is (h1 e0rw~nti).

Socrates: How admirable of Lysias (W1 gennai=oj)! I only wish he would write (ei1qe gra/yeien) that it should be to a poor man (w(j xrh\ pe/nhti) rather (ma=llon) than a rich one (h1 plousi/w), and an older (kai\ presbute/rw|) rather than a younger man (h1 newte/rw|), and all the other things (kai\ o3sa a1lla) which belong to me (e0moi/ te pro/sesti) and to most of us (kai\ toi=j polloi=j h9mw~n); then his speeches would indeed be urbane, and for the common good (h] ga\r a2n a0stei=oi kai\ dhmwfelei=j ei1en oi9 lo/goi). I for one am so eager to hear about it, in any case (e1gwg’ ou]n ou3twj e0pitequ/mhka a0kou=sai), that if your walk takes you to Megara (w#st’ e0a\n badi/zwn poih=| to\n peri/paton Megara/de), and as Herodicus recommends (kai\ kata\ H(ro//dikon), you touch the wall with your foot (prosba\j tw~| tei/xei) and come back again (pa\lin a0pi/h|j), I certainly won’t be left behind (ou0 mh/ sou a0poleifqw~).

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Needless to say, Socrates says these lines tongue in cheek.

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Phaedrus: Socrates, my good fellow, what do you mean (Pw~j le/geij, w} be/ltiste Sw&kratej;)? Do you think (oi1ei) that I (me), an amateur, will be able to repeat from memory in a way worthy of Lysias what he, the cleverest of present writers, has put together at leisure over a long period of time (a4 Lusi/aj e0n pollw~| xro/nw| kata\ sxolh\n sune/qhke, deino/tatoj w~n tw~n nu=n gra/fein, tau=ta i0diw&thn o1nta a0pomnhmoneu/sein a0ci/wj e0kei/nou;)? Far from it (pollou= ge de/w); though I’d like to be able to (kai/toi e0boulo/mhn g’ a1n), more (ma=llon) than I would to come into a stack of money (h1 moi polu\ xrusi/on gene/sqai).

Socrates: Phaedrus (W} Fai=dre) – if I don’t know Phaedrus (ei0 e0gw_ Fai=dron a0gnow~), I’ve even forgotten who I am (kai\ e0mautou= e0pile/lhsmai). But I do, and I haven‘t (a0lla\ ga\r ou0de/tera/ e0sti tou/twn) (228a5-6);

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At 229e5-6, Socrates will say: ‘I am not yet capable, in accordance with the Delphic inscription, of ‘knowing myself’ (ou0 du/namai/ pw kata\ to\ Delfiko\n gra/mma gnw~nai e0mauto/n).’ A good example of the two sides of Socrates: knowing/not knowing.

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I know perfectly well (eu] oi]da) that when he heard Lysias’ speech (o3ti Lusi/ou lo/gon a0kou/wn) he did not hear it just once (e0kei=noj ou0 mo/non a3pac h1kousen), but repeatedly asked him to go through it for him (a0lla\ polla/kij e0panalamba/nwn e0ke/leue/n oi9 le/gein), and Lysias responded readily (o9 de\ e0pei/qeto proqu/mwj). But for Phaedrus even that was not enough (tw~| de\ ou0de\ tau=ta h]n i9kana/), and in the end (a0lla\ teleutw~n)) he borrowed the book (paralabw_n to\ bibli/on) and examined the things in it which he was most eager to look at (a4 mali/sta e0pequ/mei e0pesko/pei), and doing this (kai\ tou=to drw~n) he sat from sun-up (e0c e9wqinou= kaqh/menoj), until he was tired (a0peipw&n) and went for a walk (ei0j peri/paton h1|ei), unless I am much mistaken (w(j me\n e0gw_ oi]mai) actually (nh\ to\n ku/na) knowing the speech quite off by heart (e0cepista/menoj to\n lo/gon), unless it was rather a long one (ei0 mh\ pa/nu ti h]n makro/j); and he was going outside the wall (e0poreu/eto d’ e1cw tei/xouj) to practice it (i3na meletw/|h). Meeting a man who is sick with passion for hearing people speak (a0panth/saj de\ tw~| nosou/nti peri\ lo/gwn a0koh/n) – seeing him (i0dw&n men), seeing him (i0dw&n), he was glad (h3sqh), because he would have (o3ti e3coi) a companion in his manic frenzy (to\n sugkoribantiw~nta), and told him to lead on (kai\ proa/gein e0ke/leue.). But when the one in love with speeches asked him to speak (deome/nou de\ le/gein tou= tw~n lo/gwn e0rastou=), he put on a pose (e0qru/pteto), as if not eager to speak (w(j dh\ ou0k e0piqu/mwn le/gein); but he intended to speak in the end, even if he had to do so forcibly to an unwilling listener (teleutw~n de e1melle kai\ ei0 mh/ tij e9kw_n a0kou/oi bi/a| e0rei=n). So you ask him, Phaedrus (su\ ou]n, w} Fai=dre, au0tou= deh/qhti), to do here and now what he will soon do anyway (o3per ta/xa pa/ntwj poih/sei nu=n h1dh poiei=n).

Phaedrus: For me really much the best thing is (E)moi\ w(j a0lhqw~j polu\ kra/tisto/n e0stin) to speak just as I can (ou3twj o3pwj du/namai le/gein), since it seems to me that you do not intend to let me go until I speak (w#j moi dokei=j ou0damw~j me a0fh/sein pri\n a2n ei1pw), somehow or other (a9mw~j ge/ pwj).

Socrates: You have just the right idea about me (Pa/nu ga/r soi a0lhqh= dokw~).

Phaedrus: So that’s what I’ll do (Ou9twsi\ toi/nun poih/sw). Nothing could be truer (tw~| o1nti ga/r), Socrates (w} Sw&kratej) – I did not learn it word for word (panto\j ma=llon ta/ ge r9h/mata ou0k e0ce/maqon); but I shall run through the purport of just about everything in which he said the situation of the lover was different from that of the non-lover, giving a summary of each in turn (th\n me/ntoi dia/noian sxedo\n a9pa/ntwn, oi]j e1fh diafe/rein ta\ tou= e0rw~ntoj h2 ta\ tou= mh/, e0n kefalai/oij e3kaston e0fech=j di/eimi), beginning from the first (a0rca/menoj a/po\ tou= prw&tou).

Socrates: Yes, my dear fellow, after you’ve first shown me just what it is you have in your left hand under your cloak (Dei/caj ge prw~ton, w} filo/thj, ti/ a1ra e0n th=| a0ristera=| e1xeij u9po\ tw~| i9mati/w|); for I suspect you have the speech itself (topa/zw ga/r se e1xein to\n lo/gon au0to/n). If that’s so (ei0 de\ tou=to/ e0stin), you must accept my position (ou9twsi\ dianoou= peri\ e0mou=), that fond as I am of you (w(j e0gw~ se pa/nu me\n filw~), if Lysias is also here (paro/ntoj de\ kai\ Lusi/ou), I am not really inclined to offer myself to you to practise on (e0mauto/n soi e0mme/leta=n pare/xein ou0 pa/nu de/doktai). Come now (a0ll’ i1qi), show it to me (dei/knue).

Phaedrus: Stop (Pau=e). You’ve cheated me of my hope (e0kke/krouka/j me e0lpi/doj, w} Sw&kratej) of flexing my muscles on you (h4n ei1xon e0n soi\ w(j e0ggumnaso/menoj). Where would you like us to sit down and read (a0lla\ pou= dh\ bou/lei kaqizo/menoi a0nagnw~men;)?

Socrates: Let’s turn off hear (Deu=r’ e0ktrapo/menoi) and go along the Ilissus (kata\ to\n I)liso\n i1wmen); then we’ll sit down quietly wherever you think best (ei]ta o3pou a2n do/ch| e0n h9suxi/a| kaqizhso/meqa).

Phaedrus: It seems it’s just as well (Ei0j kairo/n, w(j e1oiken) I happened to be barefoot (a0nupo/dhtoj w@n e1tuxon); you always are (su\ me\n ga\r dh\ a0ei/). So we can very easily go along the stream with our feet in the water (r9a=|ston ou]n h9mi=n kata\ to\ u9da/tion bre/xousi tou\j po/daj i0e/nai); and it will not be unpleasant (kai\ ou0k a0hde/j), particularly (a1llwj te) at this time (kai\ th/nde th\n w#ran) of year (tou= e1touj te) and at this time of day (kai\ th=j h9me/raj).

Socrates: So lead on (Pro/age dh/) and keep a lookout (kai\ sko/pei a3ma) for a place for us to sit down (o3pou kaqizhso/meqa).

Phaedrus: Well then, you see (O(ra=|j ou]n) that very tall plane-tree (th\n u9yhlota/thn pla/tanon;)?

Socrates: I do indeed (Ti/ mh/n;).

Phaedrus: There’s shade (E)kei= skia/ t’ e0sti/n) and a moderate breeze there (kai\ pneu=ma me/trion), and grass to sit on (kai\ poa\ kaqi/zesqai), or lie on, if we like (h2 a2n boulw&meqa kataklinh=nai).

Socrates: Please lead on (Proa/goij a1n).

Phaedrus: Tell me (Ei0pe/ moi), Socrates (w} Sw&kratej), wasn’t it from somewhere just here (ou0k e0nqe/nde me/ntoi poqe/n) that Boreas is said to have seized Oreithuia from the Ilissus (a0po\ tou= I)lisou= le/getai o9 Bore/aj th\n W)reiqu/ian a9rpa/sai;)?

Socrates: Yes, so it’s said (Le/getai ga/r).

Phaedrus:  Well, was it from here (A}r’ ou]n e0nqe/nde;)? The water of the stream certainly looks attractively pure and clear (xari/enta gou]n kai\ kaqara\ kai\ diafanh= ta\ u9da/tia fai/netai), and just right (kai\ e0pith/deia) for young girls to play (tai=j ko/raij pai/zein) beside it (par’ au0ta/).

Socrates: No (Ou1k), it was from a place two or three stades lower down (a0lla\ ka/twqen o3son du/’ h2 tri/a sta/dia), where (h[|) one crosses over to the district of Agra (pro\j to\ e0n A1graj diabai/nomen); and there somewhere is an alter for Boreas (kai\ pou/ ti/j e0sti bwmo\j au0to/qi Bore/ou).

Phaedrus: I’ve not really noticed it (Ou0 pa/nu neno/hka). But please tell me, Socrates, for goodness sake  (a0ll’ ei0pe\ pro\j Dio/j w} Sw&kratej), do you believe this fairy-tail to be true (tou=to to\ muqolo/ghma pei/qh| a0lhqe\j ei]nai;)?

Socrates:  If I disbelieved it (A0ll’ ei0 a0pistoi/hn), like the experts (w#sper oi9 sofoi/), I would not be extraordinary (ou0k a2n a1topoj ei1hn); I might then cleverly say (ei]ta sofizo/menoj fai/hn) that a blast of Boreas pushed her down from the nearby rocks while she was playing with Pharmaceia (au0th\n pneu=ma Bore/ou kata\ tw~n plhsi/on petrw~n su\n Farmakei/a| pai/zousan w}sai), and when she met her death in this way (kai\ ou3tw dh\ teleuth/sasan) she was said (lexqh=nai) to have been seized by Boreas (u9po\ tou= Bore/ou a0na/rpaston gegone/nai) – or else from the Areopagus (h2 e0c A0rei/ou pa/gou); for this account is given too (le/getai ga\r au] kai\ ou3toj o9 lo/goj), that it was from there and not from here that she was seized (w(j e0kei=qen a0ll’ ou0k e0nqe/nde h9rpa/sqh). But, Phaedrus, while I think such explanations attractive in other respects (e0gw@ de/, w} Fai=dre, a1llwj me\n ta\ toiau/ta xari/enta h9gou=mai), they belong in my view to an over-clever and laborious person who is not altogether fortunate (li/an de\ deinou= kai\ e0pipo/nou kai\ ou0 pa/nu eu0tuxou=j a0ndro/j); just because (kat’ a1llo me\n ou0de/n) after that he must set the shape of the Centaurs to rights (o3ti d’ au0tw~| a0na/gkh meta\ tou=to to\ tw~n I(ppokentau/rwn ei]doj e0panorqou=sqai), and again that of the Chimaera (kai\ au]qij to\ th=j Ximai/raj), and a mob of such things – Gorgons and Pegasuses – and strange hordes of other intractable and portentous creatures flock in on him (kai\ e0pirrei= de\ o1xloj toiou/twn Gorgo/nwn kai\ Phga/swn kai\ a1llwn a0mhxa/nwn plh/qh te kai\ a0topi/ai teratolo/gwn tinw~n fu/sewn); if someone is sceptical about these (ai[j ei1 tij a0pistw~n), and tries to reduce each to what is likely (prosbiba=| kata\ to\ ei0ko\j e3kaston), with his boorish kind of expertise (a3te a0groi/kw| tini\ sofi/a| xrw&menoj), he’ll need a good deal of leisure (pollh=j au0tw~| sxolh=j deh/sei). For myself, in no way do I have leisure for these things (e0moi\ de\ pro\j au0ta\ ou0damw~j e0sti sxo/lh), and the reason for it, my friend, is this (to\ de\ ai1tion, w} fi/le, tou/tou to/de). I am not yet capable, in accordance with the Delphic inscription, of ‘knowing myself’ (ou0 du/namai/ pw kata\ to\ Delfiko\n gra/mma gnw~nai e0mauto/n); it therefore seems absurd to me (geloi=on dh/ moi fai/netai) that while I’m still ignorant of this subject (tou=to e1ti a0gnoou=nta) I should inquire into things which do not belong to me (ta\ a0llo/tria skopei=n). So then saying goodbye to these things (o3qen dh\ xai/rein e0a/saj tau=ta), and believing what is commonly thought about them (peiqo/menoj de\ tw~| nomizome/nw| peri\ au0tw~n), I inquire – as I said just now (o4 nundh\ e1legon, skopw~) – not into these (ou0 tau=ta) but into myself (a0ll’ e0mauto/n), to see whether I am actually a beast more complex and more violent than Typhon (ei1te ti qhri/on o2n tugxa/nw Tufw&noj poluplokw&teron kai\ ma=llon e0pitequ/mmenon), or both a tamer and a simpler creature (ei1te h9merw&tero/n te kai\ a9plou/steron zw|~on), sharing some divine and un-Typhonic portion by nature (qei/aj tino\j kai\ a0tu/fou moi/raj fu/sei mete/xon). But (a0ta/r), my friend (w} e9tai=re), to interrupt our conversation (metacu\ tw~n lo/gwn), wasn’t this the tree (a]r’ ou0 to/de h]n to\ de/ndron) you were taking us to (e0f o3per h]gej h9ma=j;)?

Phaedrus: The very same (Tou=to me\n ou]n au0to/).

Socrates:  By Hera (Nh\ th\n H#ran), a fine stopping place (kalh/ ge h9 katagwgh/). This plane-tree (h3te ga\r pla/tanoj au3th), is very spreading (ma/l’ a0mfilafh/j te) and tall (kai\ u9yhlh/), and the tallness and shadiness of the agnus (tou= te a1gnou to\ u3yoj kai\ to\ su/skion) are quite lovely (pa/gkalon); and being in full flower (kai\ w(j a0kmh\n e1xei th=j a1nqhj) it seems to make the place smell as sweetly as it could (w(j a2n eu0wde/staton pare/xoi to\n to/pon). The stream, too (H3 te au] phgh/), flows very attractively under the plane (xariesta/th u9po\ th=j plata/nou r9ei=), with the coolest water (ma/la yuxrou= u3datoj), to judge by my foot (w#ste ge tw}| podi\ tekmh/rasqai). From the figurines and statuettes, the spot seems to be sacred to some Nymphs and to Achelous (Numfw~n te/ tinwn kai\ A)xelw|&ou i9ero\n a0po\ tw~n korw~n te kai\ a0galma/twn e1oiken ei]nai). Then again, if you like (ei0 d’ au2 bou/lei), how welcome it is, the freshness of the place, and very pleasant (to\ eu1pnoun tou= to/pou w(j a0gaphto\n kai\ sfo/dra h9du/); it echoes with a summery shrillness (qerino/n te kai\ liguro\n u9phxei=) to the cicadas’ song (tw~| tw~n tettigw~n xorw~|).  Most delightful of all is the matter of the grass (pa/ntwn de\ komyo/taton to\ th=j po/aj), growing on a gentle slope (o3ti e0n h0re/ma prosa/ntei) and thick enough to be just right to rest one’s head upon (i9kanh\ pe/fuke katakline/nti th\n kefalh\n pagka/lwj e1xein). So you have been the best of guides for a stranger (w#ste a1rista/ soi e0cena/ghtai), my dear Phaedrus (w{ fi/le Fai=dre).

Phaedrus: You extraordinary man (Su\ de/ ge, w} qauma/sie) – you strike me as the oddest person (a0topw&tato/j tij fai/nh). You really seem like a stranger on a visit, as you say, and not a local (a0texnw~j ga/r, o9 le/geij, cenagoume/nw| tini\ kai\ ou0k e0pixwri/w| e1oikaj); this comes of your neither leaving the city to cross the borders (ou3twj e0k tou a1steoj ou0t’ ei0j th\n u9perori/an a0podhmei=j), nor, I think going outside the wall at all (ou1t’ e1cw tei/xouj e1moige dokei=j to\ para/pan e0cie/nai).

Socrates: Forgive me (Suggignwske/ moi), my good man (w} a1riste). You see, I’m a lover of learning (filomaqh\j ga/r ei0mi), and the country places and the trees won’t teach me anything (ta\ me\n ou]n xwri/a kai\ ta\ de/ndra ou0de/n m’e0qe/lei dida/skein), as the people in the city will (oi9 d’ e0n tw~| a1stei a1nqrwpoi). (Phdr. 230d3-5))

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Less than a Stephanus page ago, Socrates said: ‘I am not yet capable, in accordance with the Delphic inscription, of ‘knowing myself’ (ou0 du/namai/ pw kata\ to\ Delfiko\n gra/mma gnw~nai e0mauto/n); it therefore seems absurd to me (geloi=on dh/ moi fai/netai) that while I’m still ignorant of this subject (tou=to e1ti a0gnoou=nta) I should inquire into things which do not belong to me (ta\ a0llo/tria skopei=n).’ (Phdr. 229e5-230a1)

There seems to be a crass contradiction between these two passages; but is it so? In the Theaetetus Socrates asks: ‘What evidence one would be able to point to (ti/ a1n tij e2xoi tekmh/rion e0pidei=cai), if someone asked (ei1 tij e1roito) at this very moment (nu=n ou3twj e0n tw~| paro/nti) whether we are asleep (po/teron kaqeu/domen) and dreaming everything we have in mind (kai\ pa/nta a4 dianoou/meqa o0neirw&ttomen), or awake (h2 e0grhgo/rame/n te) and having a waking discussion with each other (kai\ u3par a0llh/loij dialego/meqa).’

Socrates appears to have been aware that all the world in which we live, with all its cars and shops and all its people, is lived within us. If so, then we can read the whole of the Phaedrus as Socrates’ self-exploration, in obedience to the Delphic ‘know thyself’; moreover, we can join Socrates, exploring ourselves.

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But you seem to have found the prescription to get me out (su\ me/ntoi dokei=j moi th=j e0mh=j e0co/dou to\ fa/rmakon hu9rhke/nai). Just like people (w#sper ga\r oi9) who lead hungry animals on by shaking a branch or some vegetable in front of them (ta\ peinw~nta qre/mmata qallo\n h1 tina karpo\n prosei/ontej a1gousin), so you seem to be capable of leading me around all Attica and wherever else you please by proffering me speeches in books in this way (su\ e0moi\ lo/gouj ou3tw protei/nwn e0n bibli/oij th\n A0ttikh\n fai/nh| peria/cein a3pasan kai\ o3poi a2n a1llose bou/lh|). In any case, now that we’ve got here (nu~n d’ ou]n e0n tw~| paro/nti deu=r’ a0fiko/menoj), I think I’m going to lie down for the present (e0gw_ me/n moi dokw~ katakei/sesqai), and you choose whatever pose you think easiest for reading (su\ d’ e0n o9poi/w| sxh/mati oi1ei r9a=|sta a0nagnw&sesqai, tou=q’ e9lo/menoj), and read (a0nagi/gnwske).

Phaedrus: Then listen (A1koue dh/).