him who are one and all votaries of this god.[6] For myself I cannot
name the time at which I have not been in love with some one.[7] And
Charmides here has, to my knowledge, captivated many a lover, while
his own soul has gone out in longing for the love of not a few
himself.[8] So it is with Critobulus also; the beloved of yesterday is
become the lover of to-day. Ay, and Niceratus, as I am told, adores
his wife, and is by her adored.[9] As to Hermogenes, which of us needs
to be told[10] that the soul of this fond lover is consumed with
passion for a fair ideal--call it by what name you will--the spirit
blent of nobleness and beauty.[11] See you not what chaste severity
dwells on his brow;[12] how tranquil his gaze;[13] how moderate his
words; how gentle his intonation; now radiant his whole character. And
if he enjoys the friendship of the most holy gods, he keeps a place in
his regard for us poor mortals. But how is it that you alone,
Antisthenes, you misanthrope, love nobody?

[3] Cf. Shelley, "Hymn to Intellectual Beauty":

The awful shadow of some unseen Power
Floats, though unseen, among us. . . .

[4] Reading with L. D. after Blomfield (Aesch. "Ag." p. 304),
{idrumenou}, or if as vulg. {isoumenou}, transl. "but in soul is
fashioned like to mortal man."

[5] "Eros."

[6] Or, "who are each and all of us members of his band." For
{thiasotai} cf. Aristot. "Eth. N." viii. 9. 5; Aristoph. "Frogs,"
327.