A speech in reply
SocratesYou are very dear to me, Phaedrus, and truly golden, if you think I mean that Lysias has missed the mark altogether and that one could say entirely different things. I do not think even the poorest writer would suffer that fate. Take the subject of the speech itself. Could anyone arguing that one should favour a man who is not in love over a lover omit to praise the good sense of the one and condemn the folly of the other? These points are unavoidable. A speaker may be allowed such things; he deserves praise for arranging them, not for discovering them. When the points are neither necessary nor easy to find, he deserves praise for both discovery and arrangement.
PhaedrusI agree with that; you have put it fairly. I shall do the same. You may assume that the lover is more sick than the man who is not in love. But if you say other things about the rest, more and better than what we have here, you may stand at Olympia as a hammered statue beside the dedication of the Cypselids.
SocratesHave you turned serious, Phaedrus, because I laid hands on your darling to tease you? Do you really think I am going to try to say something more elaborate than his skilful speech?
PhaedrusNow, my friend, you have stepped into the very same trap. You must speak as best you can, unless we are to play the tiresome comedy of tossing the same lines back and forth. Do not make me say, “Socrates, if I do not know Socrates, I have forgotten myself”, and “He wanted to speak but played coy.” Understand that we shall not leave here until you have said what you claimed to have in your breast. We are alone in a deserted spot, and I am younger and stronger than you. Take the hint from all this, and choose to speak freely rather than under force.