phaedrus   

to me ostentatiously to exult in showing how well he could say the

same thing in two or three ways.

Phaedr. Nonsense, Socrates; what you call repetition was the

especial merit of the speech; for he omitted no topic of which the

subject rightly allowed, and I do not think that any one could have

spoken better or more exhaustively.

Soc. There I cannot go along with you. Ancient sages, men and women,

who have spoken and written of these things, would rise up in judgment

against me, if out of complaisance I assented to you.

Phaedr. Who are they, and where did you hear anything better than

this?

Soc. I am sure that I must have heard; but at this moment I do not

remember from whom; perhaps from Sappho the fair, or Anacreon the

wise; or, possibly, from a prose writer. Why do I say so? Why, because

I perceive that my bosom is full, and that I could make another speech

as good as that of Lysias, and different. Now I am certain that this

is not an invention of my own, who am well aware that I know

nothing, and therefore I can only infer that I have been filled

through the cars, like a pitcher, from the waters of another, though I

have actually forgotten in my stupidity who was my informant.

Phaedr. That is grand:-but never mind where you beard the

discourse or from whom; let that be a mystery not to be divulged

even at my earnest desire. Only, as you say, promise to make another

and better oration, equal in length and entirely new, on the same

subject; and I, like the nine Archons, will promise to set up a golden

image at Delphi, not only of myself, but of you, and as large as life.

Soc. You are a dear golden ass if you suppose me to mean that Lysias

has altogether missed the mark, and that I can make a speech from

which all his arguments are to be excluded. The worst of authors

will say something which is to the point. Who, for example, could

speak on this thesis of yours without praising the discretion of the

non-lover and blaming the indiscretion of the lover? These are the