experience, as the proverb says.'

When Alcibiades had finished, there was a laugh at his outspokenness; for
he seemed to be still in love with Socrates. You are sober, Alcibiades,
said Socrates, or you would never have gone so far about to hide the
purpose of your satyr's praises, for all this long story is only an
ingenious circumlocution, of which the point comes in by the way at the
end; you want to get up a quarrel between me and Agathon, and your notion
is that I ought to love you and nobody else, and that you and you only
ought to love Agathon. But the plot of this Satyric or Silenic drama has
been detected, and you must not allow him, Agathon, to set us at variance.

I believe you are right, said Agathon, and I am disposed to think that his
intention in placing himself between you and me was only to divide us; but
he shall gain nothing by that move; for I will go and lie on the couch next
to you.

Yes, yes, replied Socrates, by all means come here and lie on the couch
below me.

Alas, said Alcibiades, how I am fooled by this man; he is determined to get
the better of me at every turn. I do beseech you, allow Agathon to lie
between us.

Certainly not, said Socrates, as you praised me, and I in turn ought to
praise my neighbour on the right, he will be out of order in praising me
again when he ought rather to be praised by me, and I must entreat you to
consent to this, and not be jealous, for I have a great desire to praise
the youth.