same manner. I have heard Pericles and other great orators, and I thought
that they spoke well, but I never had any similar feeling; my soul was not
stirred by them, nor was I angry at the thought of my own slavish state.
But this Marsyas has often brought me to such a pass, that I have felt as
if I could hardly endure the life which I am leading (this, Socrates, you
will admit); and I am conscious that if I did not shut my ears against him,
and fly as from the voice of the siren, my fate would be like that of
others,--he would transfix me, and I should grow old sitting at his feet.
For he makes me confess that I ought not to live as I do, neglecting the
wants of my own soul, and busying myself with the concerns of the
Athenians; therefore I hold my ears and tear myself away from him. And he
is the only person who ever made me ashamed, which you might think not to
be in my nature, and there is no one else who does the same. For I know
that I cannot answer him or say that I ought not to do as he bids, but when
I leave his presence the love of popularity gets the better of me. And
therefore I run away and fly from him, and when I see him I am ashamed of
what I have confessed to him. Many a time have I wished that he were dead,
and yet I know that I should be much more sorry than glad, if he were to
die: so that I am at my wit's end.

And this is what I and many others have suffered from the flute-playing of
this satyr. Yet hear me once more while I show you how exact the image is,
and how marvellous his power. For let me tell you; none of you know him;
but I will reveal him to you; having begun, I must go on. See you how fond
he is of the fair? He is always with them and is always being smitten by
them, and then again he knows nothing and is ignorant of all things--such
is the appearance which he puts on. Is he not like a Silenus in this? To
be sure he is: his outer mask is the carved head of the Silenus; but, O my
companions in drink, when he is opened, what temperance there is residing
within! Know you that beauty and wealth and honour, at which the many