Lysis, or Friendship - 5
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | >5< | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 And you, Lysis, if you require a teacher, have not yet attained to
wisdom.
True.
And therefore you are not conceited, having nothing of which to be
conceited.
Indeed, Socrates, I think not.
When I heard him say this, I turned to Hippothales, and was very
nearly making a blunder, for I was going to say to him: That is the
way, Hippothales, in which you should talk to your beloved, humbling
and lowering him, and not as you do, puffing him up and spoiling
him. But I saw that he was in great excitement and confusion at what
had been said, and I remembered that, although he was in the
neighbourhood, he did not want to be seen by Lysis; so upon second
thoughts I refrained.
In the meantime Menexenus came back and sat down in his place by
Lysis; and Lysis, in a childish and affectionate manner, whispered
privately in my ear, so that Menexenus should not hear: Do,
Socrates, tell Menexenus what you have been telling me.
Suppose that you tell him yourself, Lysis, I replied; for I am
sure that you were attending.
Certainly, he replied.
Try, then, to remember the words, and be as exact as you can in
repeating them to him, and if you have forgotten anything, ask me
again the next time that you see me.
I will be sure to do so, Socrates; but go on telling him something
new, and let me hear, as long as I am allowed to stay.
I certainly cannot refuse, I said, since you ask me; but then, as
you know, Menexenus is very pugnacious, and therefore you must come to
the rescue if he attempts to upset me.
Yes, indeed, he said; he is very pugnacious, and that is the
reason why I want you to argue with him.
That I may make a fool of myself?
No, indeed, he said; but I want you to put him down.
That is no easy matter, I replied; for he is a terrible fellow-a
pupil of Ctesippus. And there is Ctesippus himself: do you see him?
Never mind, Socrates, you shall argue with him.
Well, I suppose that I must, I replied.
Hereupon Ctesippus complained that we were talking in secret, and
keeping the feast to ourselves.
I shall be happy, I said, to let you have a share. Here is Lysis,
who does not understand something that I was saying, and wants me to
ask Menexenus, who, as he thinks, is likely to know.
And why do you not ask him? he said.
Very well, I said, I will; and do you, Menexenus, answer. But
first I must tell you that I am one who from my childhood upward
have set my heart upon a certain thing. All people have their fancies;
some desire horses, and others dogs; and some are fond of gold, and
others of honour. Now, I have no violent desire of any of these
things; but I have a passion for friends; and I would rather have a
good friend than the best cock or quail in the world: I would even
go further, and say the best horse or dog. Yea, by the dog of Egypt, I
should greatly prefer a real friend to all the gold of Darius, or even
to Darius himself: I am such a lover of friends as that. And when I
see you and Lysis, at your early age, so easily possessed of this
treasure, and so soon, he of you, and you of him, I am amazed and
delighted, seeing that I myself, although I am now advanced in
years, am so far from having made a similar acquisition, that I do not
even know in what way a friend is acquired. But want to ask you a
question about this, for you have experience: tell me then, when one
loves another, is the lover or the beloved the friend; or may either
be the friend?
Either may, I should think, be the friend of either.
Do you mean, I said, that if only one of them loves the other,
they are mutual friends?
Yes, he said; that is my meaning.
But what if the lover is not loved in return? which is a very
possible case.
Yes.
Or is, perhaps, even hated? which is a fancy which sometimes is
entertained by lovers respecting their beloved. Nothing can exceed
their love; and yet they imagine either that they are not loved in
return, or that they are hated. Is not that true?
Yes, he said, quite true.
In that case, the one loves, and the other is loved?
Yes.
Then which is the friend of which? Is the lover the friend of the
beloved, whether he be loved in return, or hated; or is the beloved
the friend; or is there no friendship at all on either side, unless
they both love one another?
There would seem to be none at all.
Then this notion is not in accordance with our previous one. We were
saying that both were friends, if one only loved; but now, unless they
both love, neither is a friend.
That appears to be true.
Then nothing which does not love in return is beloved by a lover?
I think not.
Then they are not lovers of horses, whom the horses do not love in
return; nor lovers of quails, nor of dogs, nor of wine, nor of
gymnastic exercises, who have no return of love; no, nor of wisdom,
unless wisdom loves them in return. Or shall we say that they do
love them, although they are not beloved by them; and that the poet
was wrong who sings- 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | >5< | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
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