leaping forth on the floor, recognized by the suitors and casting his
arrows at his feet, or the description of Achilles rushing at Hector, or
the sorrows of Andromache, Hecuba, or Priam,--are you in your right mind?
Are you not carried out of yourself, and does not your soul in an ecstasy
seem to be among the persons or places of which you are speaking, whether
they are in Ithaca or in Troy or whatever may be the scene of the poem?

ION: That proof strikes home to me, Socrates. For I must frankly confess
that at the tale of pity my eyes are filled with tears, and when I speak of
horrors, my hair stands on end and my heart throbs.

SOCRATES: Well, Ion, and what are we to say of a man who at a sacrifice or
festival, when he is dressed in holiday attire, and has golden crowns upon
his head, of which nobody has robbed him, appears weeping or panic-stricken
in the presence of more than twenty thousand friendly faces, when there is
no one despoiling or wronging him;--is he in his right mind or is he not?

ION: No indeed, Socrates, I must say that, strictly speaking, he is not in
his right mind.

SOCRATES: And are you aware that you produce similar effects on most of
the spectators?

ION: Only too well; for I look down upon them from the stage, and behold
the various emotions of pity, wonder, sternness, stamped upon their
countenances when I am speaking: and I am obliged to give my very best
attention to them; for if I make them cry I myself shall laugh, and if I
make them laugh I myself shall cry when the time of payment arrives.

SOCRATES: Do you know that the spectator is the last of the rings which,