become of me? Do you not perceive that I am already overtaken by the
Nymphs to whom you have mischievously exposed me? And therefore will
only add that the non-lover has all the advantages in which the
lover is accused of being deficient. And now I will say no more; there
has been enough of both of them. Leaving the tale to its fate, I
will cross the river and make the best of my way home, lest a worse
thing be inflicted upon me by you.
Phaedr. Not yet, Socrates; not until the heat of the day has passed;
do you not see that the hour is almost noon? there is the midday sun
standing still, as people say, in the meridian. Let us rather stay and
talk over what has been said, and then return in the cool.
Soc. Your love of discourse, Phaedrus, is superhuman, simply
marvellous, and I do not believe that there is any one of your
contemporaries who has either made or in one way or another has
compelled others to make an equal number of speeches. I would except
Simmias the Theban, but all the rest are far behind you. And now, I do
verily believe that you have been the cause of another.
Phaedr. That is good news. But what do you mean?
Soc. I mean to say that as I was about to cross the stream the usual
sign was given to me,-that sign which always forbids, but never
bids, me to do anything which I am going to do; and I thought that I
heard a voice saying in my car that I had been guilty of impiety, and.
that I must not go away until I had made an atonement. Now I am a
diviner, though not a very good one, but I have enough religion for my
own use, as you might say of a bad writer-his writing is good enough
for him; and I am beginning to see that I was in error. O my friend,
how prophetic is the human soul! At the time I had a sort of
misgiving, and, like Ibycus, "I was troubled; I feared that I might be
buying honour from men at the price of sinning against the gods."
Now I recognize my error.
Phaedr. What error?
Soc. That was a dreadful speech which you brought with you, and