Hermias: On Plato Phaedrus 227A–245E 9781350051881, 9781350051911, 9781350051898

Table of contents :
Cover
Half-title
Title
Copyright
Contents
Acknowledgements
Conventions
Abbreviations
Introduction
1. The place of the Phaedrus in the Neoplatonic curriculum
2. Platonism and the place of the Phaedrus up to Plotinus
3. Plotinus and the Phaedrus at the origins of Neoplatonism
4. Iamblichus and the earlier commentary tradition
5. Hermias’ commentary and the philosophy of Syrianus
6. Hermias’ commentary in the subsequent Platonic tradition
7. Some high points in this volume
(a). Unity
(b). Characterisation and setting
(c). Socrates
(d). Rhetoric
8. Future uses of Hermias – a modest proposal
Departures from Lucarini and Moreschini’s Text
Translation
Notes
Bibliography
English–Greek Glossary
Greek–English Index
Subject Index

Citation preview

Hermias On Plato Phaedrus 227A–245E

Ancient Commentators on Aristotle GENERAL EDITORS: Richard Sorabji, Honorary Fellow, Wolfson College, University of Oxford, and Emeritus Professor, King’s College London, UK; and Michael Griffin, Assistant Professor, Departments of Philosophy and Classics, University of British Columbia, Canada. This prestigious series translates the extant ancient Greek philosophical commentaries on Aristotle. Written mostly between 200 and 600 AD, the works represent the classroom teaching of the Aristotelian and Neoplatonic schools in a crucial period during which pagan and Christian thought were reacting to each other. The translation in each volume is accompanied by an introduction, comprehensive commentary notes, bibliography, glossary of translated terms and a subject index. Making these key philosophical works accessible to the modern scholar, this series fills an important gap in the history of European thought. A webpage for the Ancient Commentators Project is maintained at ancientcommentators.org.uk and readers are encouraged to consult the site for details about the series as well as for addenda and corrigenda to published volumes.

Hermias On Plato Phaedrus 227A–245E Translated by Dirk Baltzly and Michael Share

BLOOMSBURY ACADEMIC Bloomsbury Publishing Plc 50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP, UK 1385 Broadway, New York, NY 10018, USA BLOOMSBURY, BLOOMSBURY ACADEMIC and the Diana logo are trademarks of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc First published in Great Britain 2018 Paperback edition first published 2020 Copyright © Dirk Baltzly and Michael Share, 2018 Dirk Baltzly and Michael Share have asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Editors of this work. For legal purposes the Acknowledgements on p. vi constitute an extension of this copyright page. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers. Bloomsbury Publishing Plc does not have any control over, or responsibility for, any third-party websites referred to or in this book. All internet addresses given in this book were correct at the time of going to press. The author and publisher regret any inconvenience caused if addresses have changed or sites have ceased to exist, but can accept no responsibility for any such changes. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.



Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Hermeias, of Alexandria, active 5th century, author. | Baltzly, Dirk, translator. | Share, Michael John, translator. Title: On Plato Phaedrus 227a-245e / Hermias ; translated by Dirk Baltzly and Michael Share. Other titles: In Platonis Phaedrum scholia. English Description: London : Bloomsbury Academic, 2018. | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2017055423| ISBN 9781350051881 (hardback) | ISBN 9781350051904 (epub) Subjects: LCSH: Plato. Phaedrus--Early works to 1800. | Love. | Rhetoric, Ancient. | Hermeias, of Alexandria, active 5th century. In Platonis Phaedrum scholia. Classification: LCC B380 .H4713 2018 | DDC 184--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017055423 ISBN: HB: 978-1-3500-5188-1 PB: 978-1-3501-3648-9 ePDF: 978-1-3500-5189-8 eBook: 978-1-3500-5190-4 Series: Ancient Commentators on Aristotle Typeset by RefineCatch Limited, Bungay, Suffolk To find out more about our authors and books visit www.bloomsbury.com and sign up for our newsletters.

Contents Acknowledgements Conventions Abbreviations Introduction 1. The place of the Phaedrus in the Neoplatonic curriculum 2. Platonism and the place of the Phaedrus up to Plotinus 3. Plotinus and the Phaedrus at the origins of Neoplatonism 4. Iamblichus and the earlier commentary tradition 5. Hermias’ commentary and the philosophy of Syrianus 6. Hermias’ commentary in the subsequent Platonic tradition 7. Some high points in this volume (a) Unity (b) Characterisation and setting (c) Socrates (d) Rhetoric 8. Future uses of Hermias – a modest proposal

vi vii viii 1 1 3 7 8 10 16 21 23 25 27 31 33

Departures from Lucarini and Moreschini’s Text

41

Translation

45

Notes Bibliography English–Greek Glossary Greek–English Index Subject Index

173 257 265 281 313

Acknowledgements The present translations have been made possible by generous and imaginative funding from the following sources: the National Endowment for the Humanities, Division of Research Programs, an independent federal agency of the USA; the Leverhulme Trust; the British Academy; the Jowett Copyright Trustees; the Royal Society (UK); Centro Internazionale A. Beltrame di Storia dello Spazio e del Tempo (Padua); Mario Mignucci; Liverpool University; the Leventis Foundation; the Arts and Humanities Research Council; Gresham College; the Esmée Fairbairn Charitable Trust; the Henry Brown Trust; Mr and Mrs N. Egon; the Netherlands Organisation for Scientific Research (NWO/ GW); The Ashdown Trust; the Lorne Thyssen Research Fund for Ancient World Topics at Wolfson College, Oxford; Dr Victoria Solomonides, the Cultural Attaché of the Greek Embassy in London; and the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. The editors wish to thank John Dillon, Christoph Helmig, Carl O’Brien, Donald Russell, and Harold Tarrant for their comments; John Sellars for preparing the volume for press; and Alice Wright, Commissioning Editor at Bloomsbury Academic, for her diligence in seeing each volume of the series to press.

Conventions [. . .]

Square brackets enclose words or phrases that have been added to the translation for purposes of clarity.

(. . .)

Round brackets, besides being used for ordinary parentheses, contain transliterated Greek words or references to the text of the Phaedrus or of Hermias’ commentary itself.



Angle brackets enclosing text contain additions to Lucarini and Moreschini’s text. Those enclosing three stops indicate points at which they assume a lacuna in the Greek text.

†. . .†

Daggers enclose text that Lucarini and Moreschini obelise.



In addition to their normal uses, italics are used to identify direct quotation of the Phaedrus.



The page and line numbers of Lucarini and Moreschini’s edition are printed in the margins of the translation and the page numbers of Couvreur’s edition are printed in bold and in round brackets in the text.

Abbreviations Ast = Friedrich Ast (ed.), Platonis Phaedrus recensuit Hermiae scholiis e Cod. Monac. XI. suisque commentariis illustravit, Leipzig: Schwickert, 1810. Bernard = Hildegund Bernard (tr.), Hermeias von Alexandrien, Kommentar zu Platons Phaidros, Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997. Couvreur = P. Couvreur (ed.), Hermiae Alexandrini in Platonis Phaedrum scholia, Paris: Librairie E. Bouillon, 1901. DK = H. Diels, Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker, Griechisch und Deutsch, 6th edn, ed. W. Kranz, 3 vols, Berlin: Weidmann, 1951–2. Hackforth = R. Hackforth (tr.), Plato’s Phaedrus, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1952. LSJ = H. G. Liddell and R. Scott (comps), A Greek-English Lexicon, rev. H. Jones, with a New Supplement, 9th edn, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996. Lampe = G. W. H. Lampe (ed.), A Patristic Greek Lexicon, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1961. Lucarini and Moreschini = C. M. Lucarini and C. Moreschini (eds), Hermias Alexandrinus: in Platonis Phaedrum scholia, Berlin / Boston: De Gruyter, 2012. OCD = S. Hornblower and A. Spawforth (eds), The Oxford Classical Dictionary, 3rd edn, Oxford / New York: Oxford University Press, 1996. PMGF = M. Davies, Poetarum melicorum Graecorum fragmenta, vol. 1, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991. Paroemiographi = E. L. von Leutsch and F. G. Schneidewin (eds), Corpus paroemiographorum Graecorum, Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1851; repr. 1958. SVF = H. von Arnim, Stoicorum veterum fragmenta, 4 vols, Leipzig: Teubner, 1903–24; repr. Stuttgart, 1964. TLG = Thesaurus Linguae Graecae [CD ROM] TrGF = B. Snell, R. Kannicht, and S. Radt, Tragicorum Graecorum fragmenta, 5 vols in 6, Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1971–2004.

Introduction

1.  The place of the Phaedrus in the Neoplatonic curriculum Hermias’ commentary on the Phaedrus of Plato is the only example of the Neoplatonic commentaries on this dialogue to have survived in its entirety. We know most of the major figures in the Athenian school wrote commentaries on the dialogue. These include Iamblichus (c. 245–320), Proclus (412–85), and Damascius (c. 462–538). In addition, it is clear that Syrianus (d. 437?) – the teacher of both Proclus and Hermias – lectured on the dialogue. The relation of Hermias’ commentary to the lectures of Syrianus will be discussed below. Plato’s dialogue was evidently a focus of interpretive activity for the Neoplatonists. But this was not always so for the Platonists prior to them. As will be clear from the next section, Iamblichus’ curriculum for the reading of Plato’s works was a turning point for the fortunes of the dialogue. Prior to this, the dialogue was valued more by rhetoricians and writers than it was by philosophers. But the inclusion of the Phaedrus in Iamblichus’ canon – an ordered list of twelve dialogues that were alleged to convey the whole of Plato’s philosophy – made the dialogue central to Neoplatonism. In order to better appreciate the broader context for the interpretation of the Phaedrus, it is worthwhile to spend some time on the Iamblichean canon and the place of the Phaedrus in it. The Neoplatonists did not write commentaries on Plato’s dialogues merely as an ‘academic exercise’ – a phrase in modern English that carries a sense almost antithetical to the spirit in which these inheritors of Plato’s Academy entered into the business of interpreting Plato. The reading and interpreting of Plato’s dialogues formed part of an educational programme for instilling progressively higher gradations of the four cardinal virtues and assisting the student in achieving the goal or telos of the philosophic life – becoming like god. The

Introduction

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programme was built around ten dialogues that progress from the theme of self-­knowledge to the civic virtues to purificatory virtues to contemplative virtues, with different dialogues apparently promoting contemplation of various kinds and orders of being in the Neoplatonic hierarchy.1 In addition to being correlated with different gradations of the virtues, each dialogue had its own unique skopos or central theme. The skopos of each dialogue serves as a kind of ‘magnetic north’ for both distinguishing the parts of the dialogue and interpreting them in relation to the whole. Thus Olympiodorus understood the Gorgias as a text about the civic or political virtues and political happiness. The three conversations in that dialogue with Gorgias, Polus, and Callicles were related by virtue of the fact that they illuminate the efficient, formal, and final causes of political happiness respectively. Finally, dialogues were classified as logical, physical, or theological. The physical dialogues seem to have had some connection to the being of things in the realm of visible nature, while the theological ones dealt with incorporeal being. Thus the Sophist had as its central unifying theme or skopos ‘the sublunary Demiurge’ (at least according to Iamblichus). By contrast, the Iamblichean skopos of the Phaedrus transcends the level of nature or phusis by dealing with ‘beauty at every level’ – right up to Beauty itself and the intelligible gods. The following list shows how each of the ten dialogues of this basic curriculum fitted into each of these three schemes where that information is available. (We mark dialogues where we have at least one example of a relatively complete commentary with an asterisk.) Alcibiades 1 – introductory – on the self * Gorgias – civic virtues * Phaedo – cathartic or purificatory virtues * Cratylus – contemplative virtues – logical – on names * Theaetetus – contemplative virtues – logical – skopos unknown Sophist – contemplative virtues – physical – the sublunary demiurge Statesman – contemplative virtues – physical – skopos unclear Phaedrus – contemplative virtues – theological – on beauty at every level * 9. Symposium – contemplative virtues – theological – skopos unknown 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.

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10. Philebus – contemplative virtues – culmination of previous dialogues – on the Good * Two additional ‘perfect’ or ‘complete’ dialogues summed up the entirety of the doctrines communicated in the first decadic arrangement. 11. Timaeus – physical * 12. Parmenides – theological * Of these two, the former was a summa of all physical teaching, while the latter presented all Plato’s theology in one dialogue. Most of the dialogues included in Iamblichus’ canon include passages in which Socrates or one of the other characters relates a myth and the mythic passages tend to receive extensive allegorical interpretation. Iamblichus’ treatment of mythic elements in Plato’s dialogues tends to treat them as revealing theological truths – i.e. truths about the intellectual or intelligible entities – rather than ethical truths (i.e. truths about the soul and the effects of its moral failings on its post-­mortem condition). The Phaedrus’ myth of the soul’s journey in company with the Olympian gods and the glimpse that it might catch of the ‘super-­celestial place’ of the Forms (246E ff.) obviously provides grist for Iamblichus’ mill. In light of this, it is unsurprising that both the Phaedrus and the Symposium were classified as ‘theological’ dialogues. The soul’s flight and its fall into a body also contextualise the entire idea of the ascent and return to god through the Neoplatonic curriculum. Interpreting the Phaedrus was thus a serious matter for the Neoplatonists. It stands near the apex of the Platonic dialogues through which the aspiring philosopher may approach the divine.

2.  Platonism and the place of the Phaedrus up to Plotinus The Phaedrus played a key role in the Neoplatonic reading order established by Iamblichus, but the dialogue’s place in the Platonic tradition was not always so central. Some of the explanatory factors behind the Phaedrus’ rising or falling fortunes are grounded in the text itself, while others are attributable to beliefs about the circumstances of its authorship.

4

Introduction

One chronology of the composition of Plato’s works places it among his juvenilia and this doubtless led some readers to weigh it lightly compared to such philosophical masterpieces as the Timaeus and the Phaedo. Moreover, some readers might have doubted the originality of some parts of it. Thus Hermias himself (38,14–15) seems confident that one may find the speech of Lysias from Plato’s dialogue in a collection of Lysias’ works.2 It is perhaps for this reason that the Platonising Stoic Panaetius even denied the authenticity of the Phaedrus (Asclepius, in Metaph. 104,18–105,19). It also seems from the evidence of Hermias that the dialogue was subject to criticism on the grounds of its method and its style. Methodologically, Hermias reports that Plato was criticised for arguing both sides of the issue on the value of love. Moreover, writing in competition with Lysias ‘looks like the act of a malicious and quarrelsome youth’ (10,15) – a criticism that accords well with the story about this being an early work by Plato. Finally, Hermias reports that the dialogue was criticised for its ‘tasteless, pompous, and high-­flown diction’ (10,18). The latter two comments by Hermias perhaps allude to the criticisms of Plato and the style of the Phaedrus by Dionysius of Halicarnassus (first century BCE). In his Demosthenes, Dionysius engages with Plato’s text in a defence of Lysias as a stylist and in the course of doing so accuses Plato of mixing the clear and simple style of which Lysias is the master with a pompous and over-­ blown style. Hunter, who discusses Dionysius’ criticism of the Phaedrus with great insight, thinks that the criticism of Plato’s style in Socrates’ second speech may be the explanation for the claim that the dialogue was Plato’s first attempt at writing in this form.3 But Hunter’s book also points to another reason why the Phaedrus may not have been regarded very seriously by philosophers prior to the Neoplatonists. He uses several examples to show how familiarity with the Phaedrus in particular functioned as a marker of Hellenic identity in the Roman Empire. Through the Second Sophistic (first to early third century CE) this dialogue above all others achieved the status of a cultural icon. Writers and orators played with its imagery. Critics debated its stylistic merits or defects. In short, it was popular and as such many philosophers in the Hellenistic and early Imperial period might well have neglected it, feeling that it was ‘owned’ by the rhetoricians or simply not difficult enough to call for their professional expertise. Just as serious philosophers in the twentieth century did not engage with popular works like Zen and the Art of Motorcycle

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Maintenance, so too the very fact that the Phaedrus was widely read by educated people who were not philosophers may have deterred philosophers from delving too deeply into it. These are factors extraneous to Plato’s text that could have led to the Phaedrus being regarded as a minor work, worthy of little attention by philosophers. But there are features of the dialogue itself that may have helped to explain its relative neglect prior to Iamblichus. The Phaedrus presents the philosophical reader with a problem: ‘What is this dialogue about?’ The problem of the degree of unity had by the dialogue and the identity of its unifying theme – if indeed there is one – is a problem that continues to occupy modern interpreters.4 Similarly, Hermias’ commentary reports ancient disagreements about the skopos of Plato’s dialogue. Platonists prior to Iamblichus regarded the theme or prothesis of a dialogue as an important question to be addressed – even if they did not suppose that such a theme had the very strong unifying role of an Iamblichean skopos. As a result, it was perhaps unclear to Platonists prior to Iamblichus just what one should do with the rich feast of ideas and topics that make up the Phaedrus. In fact, if we turn to Hellenistic and Middle Platonic texts, we see relatively little impact of the Phaedrus. This is not to say that the work is entirely ignored, but it is far, far less in evidence than, say, the Timaeus, the Republic, or the Phaedo. It seems likely that Cicero read the Phaedrus and his engagement with that text (and of course the Gorgias) is evident from his de Oratore. His concern centres on the relation of philosophy to rhetoric and to eloquence more generally. This particular interest is consonant with the manner in which Plato’s dialogue was taken up by other rhetoricians, though Cicero himself aims at an ideal in which philosophy and oratory are one (de Orat. 3.141–42; cf. 2.18; 2.154). The Phaedrus is also lightly paraphrased in the Dream of Scipio (Som. Scip. 29). However, the dominant sources in Cicero’s text are the Phaedo and the myth of Er in the Republic, so that the argument for the soul’s immortality that is drawn from Phaedrus (245C–46A) plays a relatively minor role (§25). While it is not, perhaps, surprising that this argument for immortality is the only part of the Phaedrus that Calcidius draws upon in his Timaeus commentary given the purpose of his work, the mythical context of the Dream of Scipio would surely have afforded scope for the inclusion of images from the Phaedrus had this dialogue been regarded as central to Platonism by Cicero.

6

Introduction

When we turn to those Middle Platonists who sought to convey Plato’s dogmata in their works, such as Alcinous and Apuleius, we find that they also make very little use of the Phaedrus.5 The latter’s Doctrines of Plato 2.8 distinguishes two kinds of rhetoric and this is doubtless on the basis of the distinction drawn in the Phaedrus. But on the whole ideas from the Gorgias dominate this section. Similarly 2.14 distinguishes between three different kinds of lovers and the mostly chaste lovers of Phaedrus 256A–E are the inspiration for the third kind. Like Apuleius, Alcinous makes use of the argument in the Phaedrus for the soul’s immortality (Didask. 25). In addition, however, he concludes his chapter on the soul by attributing a tripartite division to even divine souls, so that they possess precursors of the appetitive and spirited parts of the soul in humans. It seems entirely possible that here Alcinous draws on Socrates’ second speech and applies the imagery of that speech to some brief theological speculations. After all, if the gods too drive their chariots to the super-­celestial place to feast upon the vision of the Forms, then they too have horses – albeit better ones than we. Philo of Alexandria and Plutarch of Chaeronia clearly advert to the Phaedrus at many points. Their engagement with the dialogue seems to have focused on the portion of the text that was most important for the Neoplatonists – the myth of the soul’s ascent in the company of the gods. But, at least for Philo, the Phaedrus plays a complementary role to the most important Platonic dialogue: the Timaeus. Runia notes: In questions concerning the creation and structure of the cosmos no other Platonic work can add much, in Philo’s view, to what the Timaeus has to say. But naturally other facets of Platonic doctrine, especially in aspects of ethics and eschatology, impinge on its contents. Above all the Phaedrus myth, with its veiled description of the ascent of the soul and its contemplation of the noetic world, complements the Timaeus for Philo in an important way. If for the Neoplatonists the whole of Plato’s theôria was contained in the Timaeus and the Parmenides, we might change this to the Timaeus and the Phaedrus myth, and we would not be far from the mark. (Runia 1986, 374)

Thus in Runia’s estimation the Phaedrus was a very important work for Philo. However, Philo’s influence on the subsequent tradition of pagan Platonism was limited by the context in which he utilised the work of Plato – that is, in the exegesis of Mosaic texts.

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Plutarch was clearly more influential on the subsequent course of the Platonic tradition than Philo. In addition, as Brisson notes, Plutarch practised a form of allegorical interpretation that derived metaphysical claims from mythic passages in Plato, as well as from other myths such as that of Isis and Osiris.6 In this respect, his use of mythic material resembles the Neoplatonists’. But, as with Philo, the Timaeus was a cornerstone of Plutarch’s Platonism and when he turned to the topic of love, the Symposium was more central to his philosophy than the Phaedrus.

3.  Plotinus and the Phaedrus at the origins of Neoplatonism Neoplatonic interpreters of the Phaedrus treat Plotinus as a turning point in the correct understanding of Plato’s dialogue. Proclus contrasts Plotinus and Iamblichus with previous interpreters on the ground that they, unlike those who came before them, understood that the celestial places (247A–D) that loom so large in the Neoplatonic understandings of the dialogue belong to the intelligible and not the visible realm.7 It is not clear that this is entirely fair to the Platonists prior to Plotinus. Defenders of Philo or Plutarch might beg to differ. But it is at least a key element in the Neoplatonic narrative of how the true understanding of Plato’s philosophy was recovered from a state of previous neglect.8 It is certainly true that Plotinus alludes to the myth (Phaedrus 245A–56B) at several points in the Enneads. But there is no one detailed exegesis of the sort that we find in the subsequent commentary tradition. Perhaps the most systematic incorporation of elements from what turns out to be the crucial passages at 247A–D occurs in Enneads 5.8.9–10. Here Plotinus invites the reader to imagine an intelligible rather than a spatial heavenly sphere as a prelude to his account of what the souls who follow Zeus in the journey to the super-­celestial place will experience. It is unclear that there is a sharp differentiation of the three distinct ‘places’ in this noetic topography that subsequent Neoplatonists make so much of: the super-­celestial place, as distinct from the sub-­celestial arch, and the heaven in general. Yet he does highlight that the psychic ‘tourists’ following Zeus will see Justice itself and Moderation itself (5.8.10.13–14). These two forms are mentioned by Plato at

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247D6–7 and will be treated by Proclus as part of an important triad – including Knowledge itself – whose elements are correlated with different features of the noetic topography. So it is certainly true that Plotinus has mentioned features of Socrates’ palinode that are highly significant within the subsequent commentary tradition. It is indeed fair to view him – from the viewpoint of the later tradition – as having taken important steps in the right direction.9 As is so often the case, however, Plotinus’ doctrine of the undescended soul means that Iamblichus, Syrianus, and Proclus will only be able to agree with him so far. The disagreement about whether the soul comes down entirely into the body emerges in the context of the correct appreciation of the Phaedrus in Enneads 4.3.12.5. Here, in explaining that the soul does not descend entirely from Intellect, he says that the soul’s ‘head remains above the heaven’. It seems likely that Plotinus has in mind here Phaedrus 248A2–3 where the ‘head’ of the lucky human charioteer who successfully follows the gods is raised ‘into the place beyond the heavens’. It is for this reason that Saffrey and Westerink characterised the use to which Plotinus puts the palinode’s myth as ‘anthropological rather than theological’.10 It interprets the ascent of the soul as a journey to the interior of the self rather than to a (non-­spatial) quasi-­place outside oneself.11

4.  Iamblichus and the earlier commentary tradition We have suggested that Iamblichus’ inclusion of the Phaedrus as one of the twelve dialogues in the Neoplatonic reading order dramatically changed the fortunes of a dialogue that had been somewhat neglected by the earlier Platonic tradition. The evidence of Hermias and Proclus gives us some notion of the innovations in the understanding of the dialogue introduced by Iamblichus in his commentary.12 Hermias’ introductory material shows that Iamblichus sought to unify the various speeches in the dialogue by identifying a skopos for the entire work. From that skopos, the division of the text into parts follows. The work is about ‘beauty at every level’ and the various parts of the dialogue correspond to beauties on different levels – beauties which are the objects of different kinds

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of love had by the different characters in the dialogue. The first fragment of Iamblichus’ commentary preserved by Hermias claims that Plato’s text exhibits a ring structure. The dialogue moves from (i) visible beauty (in the physical form of Phaedrus, a beauty loved by Lysias) to (ii) beauty in logoi (Lysias’ speech is the examplar, being the logos with which Phaedrus is in love) to (iii) beauty of souls (Socrates’ first speech deals with the science of virtue, particularly in relation to the soul since the distinction between licentious, passionate love, and rational love – each belonging to different spheres in the soul – is central to Socrates’ argument) to (iv) beauty of the encosmic gods (in the first part of the Socratic palinode), and finally to (v) the very source of beauty (in Socrates’ description of the ‘super-­celestial place’ at 247B–48C). The dialogue then descends back through each of these levels of beauty by means of the method of division to (vi) psychic beauty and that of virtues and knowledge, and then (vii) the beauty in speeches, thus ‘joining the end to the beginning’. This structure explains why the dialogue is classified as ‘theological’ in Iamblichus’ canon. Stages (iv) and (v) concern beings that the Neoplatonists regarded as divine. The ‘encosmic gods’ of stage (iv) are the Olympians that lead the souls on their field trip to see the Forms (cf. Phaedrus 247A). These seem to be divine souls, since they are described as having horses and chariots as well. Proclus’ extensive discussion of the Olympians in Phaedrus 247A seeks to specify exactly which order of divine souls Socrates describes here (PT 6,84,12–92,15). We cannot glean from our surviving evidence a similar determination of the exact level of the divine souls involved, but we think that one may be confident that Iamblichus had something to say on the matter. In stage (v) of the dialogue the super-­celestial place and the divinities ‘glimpsed’ by the souls that can ascend beyond the sub-­celestial arch and stand on the ‘vault of the heavens’, by contrast, are extra-­cosmic divinities. We think it is safe to assume that Iamblichus’ reading of this passage focused on the correct interpretation of what he took to be especially significant phrases such as ‘the sub-­celestial arch’ (Phaedrus 247B1), the ‘rotation of the heavens’ (247C1), and the ‘super-­celestial place’ (247C2). These seem to have been regarded as symbols of the very highest orders of reality. In the not entirely consistent reports of Hermias and Proclus at least, there is great emphasis on the meaning of ‘the heaven’ or Ouranos and its relation to other key principles

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in his ontology such as ‘the first’ and ‘the Demiurge’.13 Iamblichus was followed in this method by Theodore of Asine, who was perhaps his student at one point and almost certainly someone with whom he had substantive philosophical disagreements. Iamblichus’ understanding of the skopos of the Phaedrus thus accomplished several things for the subsequent Platonic tradition. First, it gave the dialogue a subject matter highly relevant to philosophers in late antiquity. Given the connection between the ordering of things by divine providence and the beauty of the things so ordered, it made the dialogue a theological work. ‘Beauty at every level’ is thus tantamount to divinity at various levels. Insight into aspects of the divine not evident to others was the stock in trade of the philosopher in late antiquity.14 Second, and following on from the first point, it placed the dialogue in a programme of moral and intellectual development whose goal was assimilation to the divine. Any doubts that readers might have had about Socrates’ carnal motives in relation to the young man he leads to the romantic spot by the river could now be seen as concern for Phaedrus’ spiritual well-­being.Assimilation to the educational context of the Iamblichean ascent through increasingly more spiritual gradations of the virtues serves to negate the eroticism of the dialogue. Finally, Iamblichus’ understanding of the purpose of the dialogue rescues it from the rhetoricians and literary critics. It discusses speech and writing, but only as illustrations of the beautiful at the level of logoi. The dialogue’s real business is with higher – and distinctively philosophical! – matters.

5.  Hermias’ commentary and the philosophy of Syrianus These prefatory remarks bring us to the book that you now hold in your hands – a work that bears the title Scholia (or notes) on the Phaedrus of Plato and whose author is listed as Hermias. For reasons that will become clear in what follows, we will refer to this work as a commentary, for that is surely what it is. The work comments systematically on lines or lemmata from Plato’s text, though it does so in ways that differ in some respects from other works that we unhesitatingly call commentaries.15 What remains controversial about the text attributed to Hermias is the relation that it bears to lectures given within the Neoplatonic school at Athens.

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11

Hermias was, along with Proclus, a student of Syrianus in Athens probably somewhere around 430 CE. While Proclus went on to become head of the Neoplatonic school in Athens, Hermias returned to Alexandria where he led the school there. His wife was Aedesia, a niece of Syrianus. With her he had two sons, Ammonius and Heliodorus, the former of whom succeeded him as head of the school in Alexandria. The work on the Phaedrus is the only writing by Hermias that survives. One of our two sources of information with respect to Hermias is the Philosophical History written by Damascius (c. 462–538), who was familiar with both the Athenian and Alexandrian schools.16 It has been widely thought that Damascius’ assessment of Hermias as a philosopher has a bearing on the authorship of the Phaedrus commentary. Damascius described him as hardworking, but unoriginal, and says that unlike his classmate, Proclus, he did not go beyond the work of their teacher Syrianus (fr. 54 Athanassiadi). It is clear that Hermias’ text bears evidence of a classroom setting. At various points the writer and Proclus both ask questions of Syrianus (96,24–97,11; 154,18–23; and 161,13). As one would expect of notes taken from lectures, there is also some repetition in Hermias’ commentary.17 Finally, there are strong terminological and stylistic similarities between Hermias’ and the extant commentary of Syrianus on Books 13 and 14 of Aristotle’s Metaphysics. In our translation we note the difficulties associated with translating hopôs pote in anything approaching a consistent manner. This phrase looks like Syrianus’ own verbal tic. It occurs 14 times in Hermias and 12 times in Syrianus’ commentary on the Metaphysics. Significantly it almost never occurs in any of the other Neoplatonic commentaries. These factors led early on to the view that Hermias’ work was substantially derived from the lectures of Syrianus.18 Zeller, the first in the field, for example, commented: ‘throughout the work his philosophical standpoint is that of his teacher’.19 The question at issue among scholars at present is just how substantial is this dependence. One of the editors of the new Teubner edition of Hermias (Moreschini) and the author of the only modern language translation of the commentary (Bernard) have both urged a reassessment of the older view. Bernard notes that Damascius’ judgements in the Philosophical History are not simply those of the dispassionate observer.20 So we cannot simply assume on the basis of his testimony that there is no trace of Hermias’ own originality

12

Introduction

in the commentary. As early as Bielmeier’s 1930 book there was recognition of the distinct possibility that notes from Syrianus’ lectures in Athens might have been added to by Hermias upon his return to Alexandria. Indeed, Bielmeier himself supposed that much of the material on Iamblichus in the commentary might be the result of the intercollation by Hermias of material from Iamblichus’ commentary on the Phaedrus after his return to Alexandria. Bernard’s strongest case for Hermias’ independence from Syrianus was also noted by Bielmeier. Hermias seems to follow Iamblichus’ understanding of Phaedrus 247C6–9 rather than that of Proclus and Syrianus and may, in fact, be working with a different text of Plato at this point. This judgement is fraught, however, for two reasons. First, because 247C6–9 presents a textual crux that editors still struggle with and, second, we rely on Proclus’ accuracy in his report of Syrianus’ view of the passage.21 Similarly, Moreschini has argued that the incorporation of ideas relating to the Chaldean Oracles and Orphic poems represents another layer of work superimposed over the notes taken from Syrianus’ lecture – a layer added probably upon Hermias’ return to Alexandria.22 His overall conclusion is one that he sums up in this way: In conclusion, let us accept the fundamental assumption of Hermias’ dependence on Syrianus but not in the sense that the Alexandrine simply transcribed his master’s teachings in a straightforward manner but instead that he reprised them together with his own personal elaborations.23

Similarly, Bernard sums up her view in these terms: The work is not simply a mere transcription (Mitschrift) or a collection of scholia in the ordinary sense, as Allen and Dillon suggest, although the title In Platonis Phaedrum Scholia encourages this presumption.

Elsewhere, she recommends that we deny Hermias’ work the same status as a ‘photocopy’ of Syrianus’ lecture.24 We are not persuaded that we have the evidence that allows the questions raised by the authors we have been discussing to be settled. In the first place, we lack an appropriate vocabulary for describing the kind of interaction between teacher and student that would allow us to isolate different degrees of dependence. We have the phrase ‘apo phônês’ that is attached to commentaries that are explicitly acknowledged as coming from a lecture setting.25 But even

Introduction

13

though we have a phrase for it, that phrase conceals a multitude of possibilities. We have no information on how a presentation was recorded, either in general or in any particular case. It could be, at one end of the spectrum, virtual dictation if the delivery was slow enough or, at the other end, very hurried note taking if the lecturer gabbled. Obviously, too, the ability, understanding, and objectives of individual note-­takers must have varied and we have little to assess these by. Finally, there is no guarantee that the note-­taker, or someone else, has not revised the text (as the ‘titles’ of some of Philoponus’ records of Ammonius’ lectures tell us he did) for use in later lectures or just to fill perceived gaps. Now add to this uncertainty the fact that Hermias’ text is not even labelled apo phônês. We have no way of knowing whether this is because the convention had not come into use at the time of the work’s composition (whatever that may have meant) or whether the genre existed but Hermias’ work would not have fitted within its parameters.26 What Marinus tells us about the creation of a commentary on the Phaedo to which Proclus’ name was attached only helps to generate further uncertainty. Describing Proclus’ studies with the aged Plutarch on this dialogue, Marinus says: With him [sc. Plutarch] Proclus read Aristotle’s On the Soul and Plato’s Phaedo. The great man also exhorted him to write down what was said, making an instrument of his zeal, and saying that, when these notes were completed, there would be treatises on the Phaedo in Proclus’ name. (trans. Edwards)

Is this an apo phônês commentary by another name? Or is it a looser relationship between teacher and student of a sort to which Hermias’ text might belong? We have no way of knowing. In the midst of all this uncertainty, the existing scholarship frequently characterises the relation between Hermias’ book and Syrianus’ lectures in terms derived from contemporary academic practices. Thus, as we saw, Bielmeier argued that Hermias probably revised the notes he took in Syrianus’ lectures, supplementing them with material from Iamblichus’ Phaedrus commentary. Yet he was nonetheless willing to characterise the product of this revision as ‘merely a condensation (Niederschlag) of Syrianus’ interpretation of the dialogue’ and ‘a somewhat revised set of lecture notes (Kollegheft)’ of the school. The problem here, we believe, is that terms like Kollegheft are merely suggestive, without precise application conditions.

Introduction

14

But even if we were to refine our terminology for isolating distinct degrees of dependence with a range of roughly apo phônês works, it is not clear that we could usefully apply this finely tuned vocabulary to the work before us. Compare the situation in Essays 5 and 6 of Proclus’ commentary on the Republic. Here Sheppard and Lamberton have attempted to use the whole of the Proclan corpus to isolate the respective contributions of Syrianus and Proclus to the theory of poetry and its allegorical interpretation. This is possible because we have works that we can clearly attribute to Proclus and those, like the Metaphysics commentary, that we can clearly attribute to Syrianus.27 But we have nothing of Hermias apart from the commentary on the Phaedrus. Nor do we have any subsequent Neoplatonist who explains Hermias’ views on various topics in the manner in which Proclus explains Syrianus’ views. In short, even if we developed a system of clearer and more precise analogies for the dependence of a written work on the thought of a teacher, we lack the evidence regarding Hermias that would allow us to apply it to his case. To grasp the depth of the problem, let us consider a pretty obvious structural feature of Hermias’ text. Our work is broken into three books of somewhat uneven lengths with the divisions between books coming at points that seem fairly significant given the textual division of Iamblichus reviewed above.  

Books and pages of Hermias

Number of pages dealing with lemmata

Number of lemmata discussed

Sections of Phaedrus covered

Number of Stephanus pages

1,1–8628

  68

  71

227A–243E (opening of Socrates’ second speech)

17

2,87–180

  94

  49

244A–249C (end of the central myth)

 5

3,181–280

100

308

249D–279C

30

Consider the obvious fact that the notes on the lemmata in Book 3 are both briefer and tend more toward paraphrase. How should we explain this? In commenting on this structural feature, Bielmeier said ‘By the beginning of the third book, one can see that the interpreter’s energy and interest have given out’. Presumably ‘the interpreter’ here is Syrianus. He thus attributes the

Introduction

15

relatively superficial treatment of the material after the key episode in the dialogue to Syrianus rather than to Hermias. Now, we would not recommend any alternative hypothesis. If Syrianus himself adopted the same textual division of the dialogue as Iamblichus then – ontologically speaking – it’s all downhill from 249C. Having ascended through the beauty of the encosmic gods and stood on the super-­celestial arch to glimpse the source of all beauty, we now turn downward again to survey the beauty in human souls and then drop off yet again to survey the beauty in spoken and written speech. It would come as no surprise if Syrianus’ enthusiasm for discussing details dropped off sharply after the climax of the dialogue was past. But notice that it is equally consistent with all our available evidence that Hermias’ notes tail off because Hermias himself wrote up less of Syrianus’ lectures (and perhaps revised what he did write less than he revised the notes on the earlier lectures – assuming for the moment that he did revise his notes in either Athens or Alexandria). Perhaps Syrianus had quite a lot to say about the later parts of the dialogue, but his student was uninterested in writing much about it – either at the time or perhaps subsequently. This supposition is not even wildly implausible. Recall that the latter part of the dialogue deals extensively with rhetoric and we have a body of work on rhetoric from Syrianus! We submit that the evidence available to us does not allow for any very decisive conclusion one way or the other. Because we regard the ‘Hermias or Syrianus?’ question as evidentially intractable, we won’t hazard any solution. However Hermias is clearly the author of the commentary in some sense and in the notes to the translation we normally refer to him as such. We will, from time to time, relate what is said in the commentary to what we know of the philosophy of Syrianus from other sources. (After all, we can hardly relate it to what we know of the philosophy of Hermias from other sources for his thought!) Given the intimate connections between Proclus and Syrianus, we will also sometimes see fit to point out parallels with Proclus and to clarify obscurities in Hermias’ text by reference to Proclus’ works. As a result we will, on the whole, treat the commentary as evidence for the views of an ‘Athenian school’ around Syrianus and his pupils Proclus and Hermias. The drawing of finer distinctions among these philosophers is an enterprise that we think cannot be done in an evidentially responsible way.

16

Introduction

The second volume of our translation of Hermias will deal with the ascent of the winged human and divine souls to the sub-­celestial arch, the revolution of the heavens, and the vision of the super-celestial place (Phaedrus 247C–50C). Proclus provides a detailed interpretation of this portion of the text in his Platonic Theology Book 4, Chapters 4 to 25.29 In the introduction to that volume we will consider the similarities and differences between the exposition of this part of the Phaedrus that is given in Hermias and that provided by Proclus. What strikes the reader immediately is that Proclus characterises the gods that he takes to be symbolised by Plato’s reference to the sub-­celestial arch or the super-­celestial place as simultaneously ‘intelligible and intellectual’. This class of gods mediates between the intelligible and intellectual orders of divinities in Proclus’ theology. This vocabulary is conspicuously absent from Hermias. Our preliminary verdict is that this difference is more apparent than real.30 There is very significant agreement between the two texts about how to understand the highest and most theological portion of Plato’s dialogue. Here too we will argue that the most epistemically responsible course of action, given the limits of our evidence, is simply to speak of the Athenian school’s reading of the Phaedrus – meaning by this the views of Syrianus and his pupils as represented in Hermias’ commentary and Proclus’ works.

6.  Hermias’ commentary in the subsequent Platonic tradition Hermias’ son, Ammonius (c. 435/45–517/26), very likely studied the Phaedrus with Proclus during his time in Athens before returning to head the school in Alexandria. Although some of his students (Damascius, Olympiodorus, and Asclepius) note that they heard Ammonius lecture on Plato, the Phaedrus is not among the dialogues mentioned in this connection. If he made any use of his father’s commentary on the Phaedrus, this use has left no trace in his surviving written works nor among the reports of his students. Further, among these students there is evidence for a work on the Phaedrus only by one of them – Damascius.31 The Phaedrus is cited in the work of Philoponus and Simplicius from time to time, but nearly always briefly and in the context of remarks on the soul’s immortality or its nature as self-­mover.

Introduction

17

While the surviving works of Damascius mention the ‘super-­celestial place’ eight times (compared with 56 occurrences in Proclus and 19 in Hermias), it occurs not at all in any of the other Alexandrian Neoplatonists. Simplicius discusses it briefly in relation to his treatment of place in Aristotle’s Physics. It is possible that the appearance of a decline in interest in the allegorical interpretation of the mythical passages of the palinode among subsequent Platonists relative to its prominence in Hermias, Proclus, and Syrianus is an artefact of the kinds of works that survived. But it also seems possible that later Platonists in both Athens and Alexandria had less appetite for the truly adventurous allegorising that characterised the philosophers around Syrianus. We do observe rather more restrained allegorising of the myths contained in the Gorgias in the commentary of Olympiodorus. Some of this restraint doubtless results from the religious politics of the Alexandrian context. But it may also be that these philosophers regarded Hermias’ allegorising of minute details in the Phaedrus as a bit too speculative. Thus far the research on the presence and influence of Hermias’ commentary in Byzantium has not yielded much. Michael Psellos’ eleventh-century essay An Explanation of the Drive of the Soul Chariot and the Army of Gods According to Plato in the Phaedrus consists largely of passages from Hermias’ commentary. He does not, however, name Hermias but instead attributes these ideas to ‘the Greek Theologians’.32 The only other individual in the Byzantine world in whose hands we can definitely place Hermias’ commentary was George Pachymeres. All our existing manuscripts of Hermias’ commentary ultimately descend from a copy in the Bibliothèque Nationale and this document, Ms. Par. gr. 1810, was copied by Pachymeres.33 This thirteenth-century manuscript spawned fourteenthcentury copies in the Biblioteca Laurenziana and was thus available to the Italian humanist Marsilio Ficino (1433–99). Ficino’s Latin translations of Plato’s works – prefaced by argumenta (summaries of a sort) and in some cases accompanied by commentaries – were the most important means through which Plato’s philosophy was made known in Western Europe during the Renaissance. We know that Ficino read Hermias and that he made his own Latin translation or summary of the commentary.34 The relationship of this translation to Ficino’s own translation of the Phaedrus and commentary upon it has been considered by Allen and

18

Introduction

Sheppard.35 Sheppard argues that Ficino’s acquaintance with the content of Hermias pre-­dates his commentary on the Symposium (1469) by showing the close parallels between Ficino’s account of divine inspiration and the content of Hermias’ commentary. Allen, on the other hand, concentrates on the argumentum that precedes the Phaedrus translation, as well as the Phaedrus commentary issued separately in 1496. Allen concludes that Ficino ‘did not refer in any systematic, sustained or candid way to his predecessor’s work’.36 So while Hermias’ account of divine inspiration influenced Ficino’s account of inspiration as it is found in his Symposium commentary, it seems that Ficino went his own way on many other matters relating to the Phaedrus. But, as Allen observes, there is nothing too surprising in this. Ficino’s Philebus commentary displays a similar independence from that of Damascius, though we know that Ficino read this ancient work as well.37 The author of the first English translation of the Phaedrus also drew on Hermias. Thomas Taylor’s 1792 translation of Plato’s dialogue has a short introduction in which he utilises Proclus’ characterisation of the Phaedrus in the Platonic Theology.38 He excuses what he regards as the relative paucity of interpretive notes to his translation by the need to keep the volume affordable and promises to do better in his projected complete translation of Plato. The notes are indeed rather sparse and their distribution across Plato’s text mirrors the manner in which Hermias’ commentary trails off so that the last part of the dialogue after the palinode is treated rather briefly.39 About a third of his explanatory notes draw on either Proclus or Hermias explicitly. His characterisation of the purpose of the dialogue in the 1792 edition is also not precisely that of the Athenian school. He says that its principal intention is to investigate true and false beauty and its attendant love (p. 2). By contrast, the 1804 edition has an introduction that seems to draw whole sentences from Hermias’ commentary.40 Taylor’s introduction repeats Hermias’ view that the theme of the dialogue is beauty at every level. Taylor’s view of Plato is so thoroughly imbued with Neoplatonist assumptions and technical vocabulary that he all but transliterates ‘skopos’ when he observes: ‘it must not, therefore, be said that there are many scopes; for it is necessary that all of them should be extended to one thing, that the discourse may be as it were one animal’ (p. 286). Unlike the 1792 edition, this translation of the Phaedrus positively groans under the weight of the notes recording the observations of Hermias on the dialogue.41

Introduction

19

Already in his 1792 translation of the Phaedrus Taylor felt compelled to respond to people he derides as ‘verbal critics’. He characterises these critics as people who pride themselves on their understanding of Greek but in fact know nothing of the true meaning of Plato’s philosophy. He took particular pains to respond to those who doubt the merit of Neoplatonists such as Hermias and Proclus for shedding light on the thought of Plato. He writes: the verbal critic, so far from being convinced of his own blindness, thinks he sees farther, even on the most abstruse subjects, than men who had no occasion to learn any language but their own, who possessed the most extraordinary intellectual abilities, the most ardent thirst after truth, and the most desirable means of obtaining it, living instruction. The men I allude to are the latter Platonists, whom the verbal critic, though he is perfectly ignorant of their writings, perpetually reviles, instances of which may be seen in the Prolegomena of Thompson to his Parmenides, in the Account of the Writings of Proclus by Fabricius, in the intellectual system of Cudworth, and above all by De Villoison in the Diatriba, vol. 1 of his Anecodata Graeca p. 225. (Taylor 1792, 7–8)

The names of Taylor’s verbal critics are familiar from Tigerstedt’s study of the increasing antagonism toward Neoplatonic or ‘eclectic’ readings of Plato in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.42 Hermias’ commentary seems to have had little obvious or direct impact on the fifteenth-century articulation of the Neoplatonic reading of Plato in Ficino. Now the value of the Neoplatonic commentary tradition in general was itself being called into question by Taylor’s ‘verbal critics’. For the fate of Hermias – at least in English scholarship on Plato – worse was yet to come. We noted above that Taylor’s translation of the Phaedrus in the 1804 edition included a great deal more in the way of references to Hermias and other Neoplatonists. The five-­volume translation by Taylor and Sydenham was the subject of two lengthy and very negative notices, the first immediately after its publication and another five years later.43 Myles Burnyeat has argued that the anonymous author of these critical notices was no less a person than James Mill, the father of John Stuart Mill and close friend of George Grote. Mill, like Grote, had a great love for Plato, but their Plato was the restlessly inquisitive Socratic Plato. This was, of course, the exact antithesis of the Neoplatonic Plato who is systematic and final in his (admittedly concealed)

20

Introduction

teachings. While Mill does not comment upon Taylor’s treatment of the Phaedrus, he evinces amazement at the value that Taylor places on Proclus. It is reasonable to assume that Hermias would fare no better in Mill’s eyes. Mr Taylor has accomplished, what it did require very strong evidence to prove was in the present age capable of being accomplished; he has succeeded in getting up the belief, whole and entire, of all the unmeaning, wild and ridiculous reveries of the latter Platonists; nay, more than this, he has added to the belief, an admiration, which words sink under him in expressing; – no man ever regarded a revelation from heaven with more extatic adoration, than Mr Taylor does the sublime discoveries of Proclus! (Mill 1809/2001, 154–5)

It is a measure of the extent to which the tide was running against Neoplatonism that Mill finds it incredible that anyone could manage to believe the Neoplatonic interpretation of Plato – far less admire it. Far from sharing Taylor’s admiration, however, Mill judges that Proclus and the latter Platonists compare unfavourably even with something as ludicrous as Jacob Boehme’s understanding of the New Testament: The writings of the German (cobler, we think it was) are even a pattern of rationality, compared with those of the Alexandrian sages. Those men were in fact the charlatans of antient philosophy; and we have nothing in modern times to compare either with the phrenzy of their writings, or the infamy of their lives. A gross mixture of the allegorical genius of Oriental theology, with the quibbling genius of the worst kind of Grecian metaphysics, and an audacious spirit of mystical, irrational and unintelligible fancy-­hunting, respecting the invisible powers of nature, and the economy of the universe, constitutes the essence or the animating principle of that absurd and disgusting jargon which they exhibit to us under the profaned name of philosophy. Add to this, that they were, almost without exception, impostors and mountebanks, THAUMATURGI par metier, that is, lying professors of miracle-­working, of conversing with the gods, of revelations from heaven, and other cheats by which they could purloin the admiration of an ignorant and abused multitude. (Mill 1809/2001, 155)

As Burnyeat acutely observes, at least so far as academic scholarship on Plato goes, Taylor sank without a trace. He continues to be read by those with an enthusiasm for theosophy, but not by most academic philosophers.

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21

One may hazard to add that when Taylor and the Neoplatonic interpretation of Plato sank, it took Hermias down with it. While the secondary literature on Plato’s Phaedrus in English is truly vast, very little of it makes any reference to Hermias’ commentary. Nor did Hermias fare well in languages other than English. An edition of the Greek text of Hermias with notes was included with Ast’s Platonis Phaedrus in 1810.44 This edition of Hermias was reviewed by Taylor in the Classical Journal in 1823, but it cannot be said that it created many other ripples. Thompson drew on it in his 1868 translation of the Phaedrus with the observation that thanks were due to Ast for publishing the entire Scholia Hermiae, ‘for amidst a heap of Neoplatonic rubbish, they contain occasional learned and even sensible remarks’.45 As both Taylor and Thompson observed even then, Ast’s edition was in need of many corrections since it was founded upon a single manuscript, M. A more satisfactory edition of Hermias was achieved only with the posthumous publication of Couvreur’s work in 1901.46 Couvreur’s text was translated into a modern language for the first time in 1997 by Hildegund Bernard.47 Barring unforeseen discoveries, what is likely to be the definitive version of the Greek text was published in 2012.48 It appears from this very brief account of the history of Hermias’ commentary that the scholarly world has not exactly deemed the content of this work a matter of burning urgency. In the final section of this Introduction we will offer a few observations to justify our labours in providing the first English translation of Hermias on Plato’s Phaedrus.

7.  Some high points in this volume The translation in this volume follows Hermias’ commentary up to Phaedrus 245E2, i.e. up to and including Socrates’ argument for the soul’s immortality based on the fact of its self-­motion. This corresponds to pages 1–123 in the 280 page Teubner edition (or to pages 1–118 of Couvreur’s edition) and reaches to Book 2, Section 9 in the numeration of lemmata. The second volume will thus cover a bit more of Hermias’ text, but will have a shorter introduction. In this penultimate section of the introduction, we will alert the reader to some of the important themes in this volume.

22

Introduction

A not uncommon problem with works in the commentary tradition is seeing the forest for the trees. Because the commentary follows the text and often pursues detailed interpretive points arising from it, it is easy to miss general themes. Some commentaries make this task harder, some easier. So, Proclus’ commentary on the Republic is partly composed of essays of various lengths on important aspects of Plato’s dialogue; for instance, his criticisms of Homer. Thus sustained attention to a particular theme arises from the, admittedly unusual, nature of the commentary. Olympiodorus’ Gorgias commentary, which – like Hermias’ commentary – arises from a teaching context, is obviously divided into lectures, with the lectures themselves further sub-­divided into a general interpretation of the text (theôria) and detailed interpretation of individual textual points (lexis). It seems possible that Hermias’ work was entitled ‘Scholia’ because it lacks such a regular division of labour between general and detailed interpretation. (The extracts preserved from what was called ‘the scholia of Proclus’ on Plato’s Cratylus are similar in this regard.) Sometimes we get such a division of labour in relation to a lemma49 and other times we do not. Moreover, Hermias chooses to include many bits of exegesis or explanation that philosophers may deem odd. The rather diverse nature of the information that finds its way into Hermias’ commentary is both a blessing and a curse. It can be a curse insofar as these digressions and odd facts break the flow of the broader line of interpretation and risk distracting the reader. This is a forest composed of very diverse species of trees! On the other hand, some of the odd facts thrown into Hermias’ work will – we hope – provide data for historians of late antiquity. For instance, Hermias, or Syrianus, obviously felt the need to explain to his audience the meaning of Plato’s wrestling metaphor at Phaedrus 236B9 (49,5–15). What does this imply about the prevalence of traditional athletics in late antiquity?50 In addition, there are digressions to explain bits of Athenian history (e.g. the nature of the oath taken by the Archons) or the history of the Cypselids. Hermias also seeks to inform his readers on details about the history and operation of oracles, the nature of the Muses, the connection between Dionysus and dithyramb, and a host of other matters pertaining to the gods and cult. We do not suppose that these historical claims are necessarily correct. After all, Hermias’ classmate Proclus had some rather confused ideas about ancient Athenian festivals that are manifest in his remarks on the settings of the

Introduction

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Republic and the Timaeus. Instead of using Hermias’ text as a source for earlier history, we should rather use it as an indicator of what pagans of the fifth century CE actually knew, or falsely believed, about the classical world. They take themselves to be the defenders of the great Hellenic traditions. It is worthwhile to seek to gauge the extent to which they in fact understood the traditions with which they so strongly identified. It has frequently been observed that the Neoplatonic commentaries on the works of Plato are not merely exposition. Rather, the Neoplatonists constructed their own philosophy through sustained and detailed reflection on the texts that they regarded as authoritative sources of ancient wisdom. This is not to say that their commentaries never shed any light on Plato’s dialogues, the dialogues themselves serving only as a pretext for the construction of a philosophical edifice entirely distinct from anything Plato might ever have imagined. Certainly the Neoplatonic commentaries bring a great deal to Plato’s texts that many Plato scholars regard as foreign to them. But they also address aspects of Plato’s dialogues that remain of concern to contemporary scholarship on Plato. In relation to the Phaedrus, we discuss four of these: (a) the unity and structure of the dialogue; (b) the relation of its particularly rich attention to characterisation and setting to its unity and structure; (c) the character of Socrates and, in particular, his eroticism; and (d) the role of rhetoric.

(a)  Unity The unity of Plato’s dialogue remains a live issue for current scholarship. There is a certain irony in the fact that at Phaedrus 264C Socrates claims that any good written work needs to have a unity like that of a living thing, with all its parts ordered and integrated. Yet the Phaedrus itself seems to lack anything like this kind of unity. If this dialogue is supposed to be like a living being, finding the spine that links its front quarters to the back legs is not easy or obvious. In Section 4 above we noted that Hermias accepts Iamblichus’ specification of the skopos of the Phaedrus: beauty at every level. He also accepts the quite stringent standard of unity that the discipline of the Iamblichean skopos imposes upon each dialogue and seeks to show how many of the seemingly irrelevant details of character and setting subserve the dialogue’s skopos. Hermias does not

24

Introduction

defend the quite stringent requirement of thematic unity that he believes is entailed by the logos–zôon analogy of Phaedrus 264C. He simply adheres to it. Malcolm Heath has challenged the idea that Plato’s logos–zôon analogy can plausibly be thought to support the strong thematic unity required by a Neoplatonic skopos.51 We consider Heath’s arguments against the Neoplatonic reading of Phaedrus 264C as less than absolutely decisive. But in any case, the more important question is whether Hermias can provide a reading of Plato’s dialogue that can exhibit it as conforming to that higher standard of unity. One challenge for Hermias’ project is the relation between the speech of Lysias and Socrates’ first speech. First, both of these seem to concern a practical decision about whom to bestow sexual favours upon – the lover or the non-­ lover. This question seems to have only a rather vague connection to the idea of beauty. We could, perhaps, begin to close the gap by saying that the practical choice comes down to the question of which prospect is more attractive – relations with the lover or with the non-­lover. But ‘attractive’ in this context seems to have more to do with expediency than beauty. Hermias’ interpretation relates the speeches to beauty by means of associating each speech with its author and the character of that author’s love. The different kinds of love are directed upon different kinds of beauty. Hermias treats Lysias’ speech – not implausibly – as disingenuous. It is the speech of a man who is in fact in love, but with a love that is licentious and corporeal. His advice to gratify the non-­lover is, in reality, advice to gratify the licentious lover (52,24–54,3). The beauty upon which this kind of licentious love is focused is the love of that which is visible. While Socrates gives voice to the first speech, Hermias associates it with Phaedrus and his erotic condition. This is not wildly implausible since Socrates does insist that the words of his first speech belong to Phaedrus (242E). Now, on Hermias’ reading, Phaedrus is in love with speeches in general and this speech of Lysias in particular (19,20). Thus Socrates’ first speech only seems to reprise, in a superior manner, the arguments of Lysias. In fact, Socrates’ first speech is an exhortation to chaste love directed toward the soul. Even though such chaste, psychic love may be aroused by what is visible and material (viz. the words on the pages that Lysias holds, 52,10–11), the beauty upon which it is directed is the invisible excellence of the rational soul. Socrates’ first speech thus properly belongs to Phaedrus and is appropriate to his condition intermediate between Socrates (who occupies the realm of intellect and

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concerns himself with intellectual beauty) and Lysias (who occupies the realm of becoming and concerns himself with beautiful bodies). The manner in which the theme of ascent through different kinds of beauty is pursued in Socrates’ second speech – the palinode – is clear enough. But in Iamblichus’ account of the trajectory taken through the many levels of beauty, the introduction of the discussion of speech and writing at 257C marks a turn downward from the apex of Beauty itself in the palinode. This transition point has been crucial to modern debates on the unity of the dialogue. Among the modern commentators who think that there is some more or less unifying theme, the two most common candidates are love and rhetoric. The advocates of rhetoric as the unifying theme can give an account of what holds the speeches on love together with the discussion of rhetoric and writing in the latter half. These speeches are illustrations. The fact that they concern love is not essential. In contrast, they argue the champions of love cannot give any similar explanation of why erôs drops out of the discussion between Socrates and Phaedrus in the second part of the dialogue. Hermias, however, has a response to this challenge. On his view, love is not the skopos of the dialogue. (That skopos seems likely to have been allocated to the Symposium.) Rather, the second half of the dialogue is continuous with the first half because it now pursues beauty in logoi. But having taken Phaedrus up to the realm of intellectual beauty, the young man is now prepared to consider his previous object of love – beautiful speeches – with a more critical and philosophical eye. Hermias argues that Plato indicates as much to us by the fact that at this point in just a few lines he has Phaedrus call Socrates’ speech ‘wondrous’ (257C2) and address him as ‘my wondrous friend’ (C5). Wonder is, of course, the origin of philosophy (Plato, Theaetetus 155D2–3; Aristotle, Metaph. 982b12) and the prayer at 257B invites Phaedrus to live for love with the aid of philosophy. Hence the transition from the highest form of erôs and its object in the palinode to the discussion of beauty in speech and writing is subsumed into the narrative of Phaedrus’ redemption from the material realm and his turn to philosophy.

(b)  Characterisation and setting Nussbaum and Ferrari are examples of readings of the Phaedrus from (broadly) within the Anglo-­analytic tradition in ancient philosophy that take the details

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of setting and characterisation to be crucial to the communication of Plato’s philosophical point.52 At the time, these books were welcome departures from an approach to the dialogues that largely neglected the ‘dramatic elements’ to concentrate exclusively upon the manifestly argumentative passages. Hermias’ reading of the dialogue similarly seeks to integrate details of setting and characterisation into its interpretation. Hermias’ approach to the dramatic elements of the dialogue differs from other attempts to find importance in, say, the fact that Socrates gives his first speech with his head covered. What marks Hermias’ interpretative project as different in quality from that of Nussbaum or Ferrari is its relentlessness. Every detail is put under the interpretive microscope and a significance that is consonant with his understanding of Platonism is discovered. So Nussbaum and Hermias both find significance in the fact that Socrates’ first speech is delivered with his head covered. In both cases, the interpretation is similar: the speech does not ‘belong’ to Socrates.53 On Hermias’ reading, it indicates in addition that he is talking about a lower-­ order erôs directed upon the excellence of the soul, while Socrates himself remains firmly fixed in the realm of intellect, focused upon the beauty of intelligibles. For Nussbaum, Socrates’ first speech reflects a distinct phase of Plato’s own thought – one that is emotionally colder and more rationalistic. The palinode presents a corrective to these earlier ideas. Hermias, however, carries his reading of Socrates’ posture and position through to the fact that Socrates reclines with his head elevated when they make themselves comfortable on the river bank. (It shows that, in spite of lowering himself to the level of merely psychic love, the intellectual part of him reaches up from matter and generation.) Similarly Hermias finds significance in Plato’s characters getting only their feet wet when they cross the stream. (This symbolises the fact that they only touch matter with the lowest of their faculties; cf. 34,25–35,2.) Examples could be multiplied, but this would only multiply the incredulity of many readers. How should we understand the difference between the kind of significance that modern interpretations place upon the dramatic details of Plato’s dialogues and the relentless search for significance that is typical of Neoplatonic readings? It is one thing to regard the dramatic elements of a dialogue as not necessarily irrelevant to the philosophical point of the work. It is quite another to suppose that every feature of the dialogue subserves the skopos of the dialogue. The

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Neoplatonists treat the dialogues as ‘semantically dense’. They are micro-­ cosmoi with layered meanings corresponding to the kinds of being one finds within (and beyond!) the cosmos. So just as we may distinguish the hypostases of Nature, Soul, and Intellect, so too we can read some feature of a Platonic dialogue physically, ethically, or theologically. Likewise, just as it is an axiom of Neoplatonic metaphysics that ‘all things are in all, but in each in a manner appropriate to the subject’ so too the theme of a Platonic dialogue is mirrored in small details. Thus, the Phaedrus’ skopos is beauty at every level and these levels are explored in an ascent from the corporeal to the intellectual. This trajectory of ascent through progressively higher stages is one that Hermias finds mirrored in Plato’s description of the foliage in the spot where Phaedrus and Socrates stop (Phaedrus 230B). The tall plane tree, the intermediate chaste tree, and the short grass symbolise the ascent from visible to psychic to intellectual beauty that Socrates will lead Phaedrus through (34,14–18). If we find it hard to believe that Plato’s dialogues – finely crafted though they are – are quite so replete with significance this may be because we suppose the circumstances of their composition to be different from what Hermias and the Neoplatonists took them to be. They suppose that Plato wrote under divine inspiration – that he was an enlightened and beneficent soul who transmitted to us works that do not merely inform us of important things, but are mystagogic texts the reading of which initiates us in ways exactly analogous to the manner in which telestic rites initiate us. We think this at least forms a coherent set of doctrines. Only a literary version of the Timaeus’ own divine Demiurge could imbue every detail of a dialogue with the rich depth of meaning that the Neoplatonists discover in them. But even if modern readers of Plato do not find the claim of semantic density (or its accompanying explanation) plausible, nonetheless as a result of reading Hermias such a modern reader may be prompted to productive reflection on the possible significance of some dramatic detail in the dialogue that we typically overlook.

(c)  Socrates The ‘Socratic problem’ is no longer the staple of Plato scholarship that it once was in the late twentieth century. The project of recovering the historical Socrates from the works of Plato (and, perhaps, Xenophon) is one that has lost

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some of its lustre and it has been largely superseded by studies of the way in which the figure of Socrates was claimed by various schools of thought. Most obviously, all the Hellenistic schools of philosophy, save the Epicureans, claimed to be the true Socratics.54 Recent work has traced the reception of Socrates to the modern period and this work often employs the methods developed in reception studies.55 Until recently the Neoplatonic reception of Socrates was a significant gap in this reception history. This was perhaps a result of arguments that the Neoplatonists had no interest in political philosophy or no tolerance for Socrates’ own profession of ignorance or not much interest in what are sometimes identified as particularly ‘Socratic’ dialogues (e.g. the Apology or the Crito). None of these are good reasons for ignoring the Neoplatonic reception of Socrates.56 Each significantly misrepresents the richness of Neoplatonism. Hermias’ commentary – alongside the commentaries on the Gorgias and the Alcibiades 1 – is among the richest of the source texts for the Neoplatonic reception of the figure of Socrates. One of the papers in the collection by Layne and Tarrant concentrates specifically on Hermias and, moreover, on a theme that is particularly salient to contemporary studies of the Phaedrus – the question of Socrates’ eroticism.57 Geert Roskam takes up the theme of Socratic love in Hermias. Socrates is a beneficent and providential figure who – as the first sentence of Hermias’ work makes clear – is present among human beings to lead them to philosophy. His role in this dialogue is to elevate Phaedrus and he does so in what Hermias regards as a characteristically Socratic manner. By attending to the individual character of the young man he seeks to elevate, he purifies him and puts him in a position to grasp the most important truths for himself. This emphasis on purification is, we believe, of a piece with the idea that the reading of Plato with a master like Syrianus effects a kind of initiation importantly like that which occurred in telestic rites. The cleansing that must take place prior to the revelation of sacred truths must, of course, be tailored to the individual condition of the initiate and symbolises not merely the operation of providence at the general level, but the individual providence exercised by the gods for all things. As Roskam argues, at least in the Neoplatonic readings of Socrates’ eros, his love for Phaedrus and for young men in general has no physical dimension whatsoever. This requires Hermias to explain away many passages in the

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Phaedrus. Roskam considers how he grapples with Phaedrus 255E–56E where the philosophical lover and his beloved ‘lie together’. Hermias is not content to merely treat this in the context of the subsequent distinction between the superior lovers who do not ‘do that which the many regard as blessed’ (256C3– 4) and those who occasionally give in to this temptation. Rather, Hermias seeks to avoid the implication that either of the two better kinds of lovers have sex. The touches of both kinds of lovers are merely the intimacy of family members. The alleged distinction between whether they do or do not do ‘that which the many regard as blessed’ is explained allegorically by reference to a distinction between the ways in which the different kinds of lovers revert from sensible to intellectual beauty (212,3–13). In the context of this volume one can witness similar interpretative contortions when Hermias attempts to deal with Socrates’ flirtatious remarks. Having been informed by Phaedrus of the import of Lysias’ speech, Socrates jokes that he would have far preferred an argument from Lysias that favours should be granted to the poor rather than the rich and the old rather than the young (227D). It is clear that, in that case, admiration for Lysias would have bid Phaedrus to bestow his sexual favours on the aged and poor Socrates – an implication that Phaedrus is doubtless meant to apprehend! That this remark is flirtation is something that most modern readers take as patently obvious. Hermias, however, takes Socrates to be seriously defending the thesis that it is correct to gratify the aged and the poor rather than the young and the wealthy. Moreover, Hermias affirms that this thesis is correct, even if contrary to the practice of the many. While conceding that the remark is jocular, he entirely misses – or suppresses – the flirtatious by-­play that is obviously involved. One question that we would like our text to answer is whether Hermias regarded all sexual relations as equally incompatible with the ideal philosopher as personified by Socrates or merely pederastic sexual relations. Roskam notes that ‘the evidence suggests little place for pederatistic activities among philosophers from Plotinus on’.58 Likewise, it is also true that Hermias married and had children, as did some of the other Neoplatonists who led the schools at Athens and Alexandria. But equally other leading Neoplatonists kept aloof from all sexual relations as part of their understanding of philosophy. Hermias’ wife (Syrianus’ daughter) became his wife only after his classmate, Proclus, was deterred from marriage to her by a vision. Is Proclus’ greatness relative to

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Hermias in the Platonic biographical tradition unrelated to his more spiritual abstinence? An abstinence urged upon him by Athena? Porphyry’s marriage to Marcella was supposed to be purely spiritual. So the attitude toward heterosexual sexual relations among the Neoplatonists seems to have been ambivalent. Was there a sense that sexual relations between males were particularly problematic? In his comments on Lysias’ speech, Hermias adds to the criticisms of it that Socrates has already offered. He takes issue with 231E3 where Lysias’ non-­lover notes that if the young man is concerned about propriety (nomos) the non-­ lover is sure to be more discreet than the lover, who will doubtless brag about his conquest. Hermias replies that Lysias’ claim that any shame attached to the granting of sexual favours is simply historically false (par’ historian 40,10). In defence of this he gives an account of the altars of Eros and Anteros and cites public professions of love between men. These attitudes were not confined to the Athenians, but it would take too long, says Hermias, to list what the Cretans, Spartans, and Boeotians thought (41,17–18). It is not clear what we should infer about Hermias’ own view of same­sex relations on the basis of this historical correction of one of Lysias’ presuppositions. It seems quite possible that he naively believed the relationships celebrated by the Athenians conformed to spiritual ideals of love between men and boys elaborated in the Symposium. After all, Hermias (or Syrianus) seems to have been a man who could assert – apparently in all seriousness – that Lysias was simply wrong to suppose that some lovers desire the body of the beloved prior to knowing his character. The confident counter-­ assertion is that ‘those who are in love (hoi erôntes) are above all looking for friendship and nobody is looking for friendship if he has no wish to discover the character of those with whom the friendship is to exist’ (42,2–3). Masterson’s approach to same–sex desire and homosociality in late antiquity raises an interesting alternative. Masterson notes that in late antiquity one of the uses to which writing about same-­sex relations was put was to enhance the authority of the writer.59 The person who can discuss forbidden topics knowledgeably is a person whose learning demands respect. The act of writing a commentary on a work by Plato a thousand years after the fact affords Hermias an unusual context for making such a move in the display of his paideia. Viewed through Masterson’s trope of ‘the supreme knowingness of

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authority’ Hermias’ reports about the propriety in Plato’s time of love between men shows that he knows it all. Nothing – not even forbidden acts – falls outside his competence. But while the Roman legal writings that forbid same-­ sex relations make a similar display of their knowingness through their choice of vocabulary, they also condemn this threat to proper Roman manhood. But Hermias has the great advantage of discussing norms about same-­sex relations that are in the far distant past and thus pose no threat to contemporary manliness. He criticises the words of Lysias’ non-­lover. He – a figure in the far-­ distant past – was factually incorrect about the sense of propriety at that time. If Hermias regards the same-­sex relations that were celebrated in that far distant past as more like the Platonic ideal than one might reasonably suppose, this could in no way constitute an endorsement of such relations in the present (and doubtless more morally debased) time. On this interpretation, Hermias’ apparent naïvety about what lovers really want – the young man with the lovely soul rather than the lovely body – is actually a studied pose. He demonstrates his authority by knowing about forbidden topics, but in a context that is importantly distant from the actual world he lives in. If, furthermore, he seems naïve about whether present-­day lovers are more interested in bodies or souls, this merely shows the extent to which he is already elevated above the level of fleshly bodies. Such a hypothesis about the intent behind Hermias’ remarks on pederasty is certainly more interesting. But we leave it to the reader to decide whether Hermias’ bowdlerising interpretation of the sexual tension in Plato’s dialogue represents a genuine or studied naïvety.

(d)  Rhetoric Hermias’ commentary also provides an opportunity to reflect on the importantly different relation between philosophy and rhetoric in late antiquity. Plato’s dialogues themselves often oppose rhetoric to philosophy, the Gorgias perhaps being the most strident in this opposition, while the Phaedrus arguably holds out the prospect of a philosophical rhetoric. In the context of education in the late Roman Empire, however, nearly all the people who formed the communities of the learned associated with the Neoplatonic schools would have been thoroughly trained in rhetoric. It was the dominant part of paideia in late antiquity – the gentleman’s education that was the basis

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of a kind of cultural solidarity among the elite of the Empire and an important source of social capital. In the system of education in late antiquity, the earlier division of the art of rhetoric into five parts (invention, arrangement, style, memory, and delivery) was superseded by a philosophically inclined curriculum that diminished the role of the latter two parts and concentrated on composition and style rather than delivery. Progress through the standard curriculum proceeded as follows: 1. The Progymnasmata of Aphthonius. This work includes examples and accounts of fourteen exercises corresponding to the stock types of composition: myth, narrative, encomium, ekphrasis, etc. Aphthonius was followed by four more theoretically oriented works and commentaries upon them: 2. 3. 4. 5.

Hermogenes, On Issues Ps.-Hermogenes, On Invention Hermogenes, On Ideas (sc. on types of style) Ps.-Hermogenes, On the Method of Forceful Speaking

Hermias’ teacher, Syrianus, composed commentaries on the two genuine works of Hermogenes among these latter four books. We know nothing certain about Hermias’ education, though it is overwhelmingly likely that he studied rhetoric before turning to philosophy. After all, nearly every educated gentleman did. Certainly his classmate Proclus excelled in his studies in rhetoric in Alexandria before coming to the school of Plutarch and Syrianus in Athens (Vit. Procl. 8–10). Thus, among the people we know were associated with the classroom setting reflected in our Phaedrus Commentary (Hermias, Syrianus and Proclus), it is plausible that all were well acquainted with both the theory and practice of polished writing and speaking. This fact helps to explain the emphasis that Hermias places on vindicating the style and structure of Plato over what he regards as the authentic speech of Lysias that is embedded within Plato’s dialogue (38,14–15). If Plato is to fulfil the ideal of a learned man held by the educated men of the fifth and sixth centuries CE, then he must at least be a master of the art of composition. In summing up his case for the superiority of Socrates’ first speech to that of Lysias, Hermias mixes stylistic and moral approbation and opprobrium in

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ways that are not easily separated. The reason, we submit, is that in order for someone to be regarded as ‘a man in full’ in late antiquity, he must be able to write and speak to the exacting standards of the rhetorical specialists. The Neoplatonists were, by and large, themselves specialists or people who had the benefit of specialist training. Thus an important role for stylistic questions in Hermias’ notes is guaranteed by two things. First, Lysias’ speech is – in Hermias’ account of the skopos of the dialogue – a proxy for the visible beauty of sensible things that Phaedrus must journey beyond. This lower level of beauty must be transcended and this involves purification. In this context, purification is literary criticism. And, second, it is an expectation on the part of the Neoplatonists that Plato will exhibit all the accomplishments of an educated man. Given what they suppose education consists in, this means that he must be a superior writer.

8.  Future uses of Hermias – a modest proposal The previous section noted connections between Hermias’ work on the Phaedrus and modern scholarship on the dialogue, as well as work in the history of late antiquity. We conclude with a modest proposal for mobilising Hermias’ text in support of a way of understanding late antique Platonism that we might call ‘psychagogic studies’. As noted above, the commentaries on Plato’s dialogues arose from the teaching of the Iamblichean curriculum. This programme of study aims not merely to inform the audience about the thought of Plato (at least as it was understood by the Neoplatonists), but to render the participants in the teaching and learning event virtuous and to make them like god. It is in virtue of this transformative role that the Neoplatonists treat the reading of Plato with the master as analogous to ritual initiation. One does not merely learn Plato: one is purified and elevated by Plato. But how was this transformation supposed to occur? For our part, we recommend the hypothesis that this trans­­­forma­tion was accomplished through the acquisition of ‘new metaphors to live by’. This requires some explanation. A frequent complaint against Neoplatonic philosophising is that it proceeds through very loose associations of ideas – associative reasoning that is not underpinned by necessary a priori connections between concepts.

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These associations between ideas, moreover, are typically grounded in some allegedly authoritative text rather than in experience and common sense. Thus, apart from Plato’s authority (Timaeus 40A–B, Laws 898A), there seems little reason to suppose that the activity of intuitive thought or direct cognitive insight (noêsis) – assuming for a moment that there is such a category of mental activity – has a kind of quasi-­movement that is reflected in the motion of a sphere around its axis. Likewise, nothing in our experience of male and female suggests any particular connection with odd or even numbers, nor is it obvious why the number one should be limiting, while the number two (or the dyad) is productive and generative. These associations are simply given by the Neopythagorean tradition. Worse, some Neoplatonic associations of ideas seem to be positively undermined by reflection on our perceptual experience and common sense. The idea that procession, remaining, and reversion are the fundamental aspects of real causation seems to be contravened by our perceptual experience of causation. In what sense does the motion that is communicated to the object ball ‘remain’ in the cue ball whilst proceeding? In what way does the motion of the target ball ‘revert upon’ its cause? We submit that the Neoplatonic commentaries are – in part at least – exercises in internalising associations of ideas that are not at all recommended by our experience as embodied creatures.60 The connections drawn between different parts of the same text or different Platonic dialogues within those commentaries are illustrations of how to deploy alternative associations of ideas systematically. They are performances of a kind of ‘Platonic literacy’ that is parallel in some ways to the manner in which educated persons in late antiquity were able to draw creatively upon a shared body of texts to fashion the self-­image that they projected to others. The idea of paideia as social capital has been discussed extensively by historians of late antiquity. By dint of clever and creative allusions to the texts known to educated men, as well as use of the styles of speech and writing learned in the schools of rhetoric, the pepaideumenos was frequently able to claim membership among the educated elite of the Roman empire and the privileges that went with that membership. While this literary and rhetorical education doubtless resulted in some internal transformation of the agent’s lived experience, its primary function and its importance derived from the manner in which it permitted the educated person to relate to others. By contrast, the capacity to creatively synthesise

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Platonic texts and to live in and through the semantic associations authorised by those texts was sought precisely for the difference it made to the agent’s lived experience. This, we submit, is what the acquisition of the various gradations of the cardinal virtues consisted in: the creative capacity to give meaning to one’s experience in terms of metaphors and associations of ideas derived from the Platonic teachings. It was, in the sense described briefly above, a kind of Platonic literacy. So in addition to providing further evidence for questions that we are already asking about Platonism, we hope that our translation will encourage new questions. Perhaps we could ask, ‘What kinds of metaphors for living and what manner of associations of ideas are encouraged by Hermias’ reading of Plato’s text? How do these metaphors and other associations run counter to established ways of imposing order and a narrative upon experience that were prevalent at the time?’ To ask these questions is not to ask whether Hermias accurately reports the intended meaning of Plato’s dialogue or to ask whether Hermias’ arguments for the theses characteristic of the Neoplatonic system are sound. It is rather to inquire into the potential for psychological transformation that is afforded by the performance of Platonic literacy in front of the audience of students. And such an inquiry involves considering the rhetorical effect of Hermias’ work as much as the philosophical soundness of its arguments. One test case for the sort of rhetorical inquiry we have in mind is the way in which Hermias performs Platonic literacy in relation to ideas associated with travel in the dialogue. The Phaedrus is a dialogue of journeys. Physically, Phaedrus and Socrates leave the city to go for a walk in the countryside. This bodily journey leads to the story of a psychic journey of the souls in Socrates’ palinode, when they travel in company with the gods to the arch of the heaven and gaze upon the super-­celestial place. Socrates’ departure for the journey back into the city is, of course, postponed by the appearance of his divine sign. There may be more episodes as well, but these examples suffice to make the point. Now, travel in search of learning or experience of divine wonders was a regular feature of a philosopher’s life in late antiquity.61 What were the received metaphors in terms of which men and women in late antiquity interpreted the often taxing demands of travel? What associations would seem natural to the non-­philosophical idiolect in relation to cities, the countryside, streams, shrines, etc.? How would the web of associations encouraged by Hermias’

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performance of Platonic literacy alter the metaphors through which the educated elite of late antiquity interpreted and ordered the experiences of journeying from one place to another? These are questions that we think are not asked of texts in the Neoplatonic commentary tradition. Answers to them – conjectural though they must be – might help to explain the staying power of a body of philosophical writing that has struck so many modern readers as otherwise so lacking in interest. Our translation is made from Lucarini and Moreschini’s 2012 Teubner edition. Departures from their text, many of which are based on their own suggestions in the critical apparatus, are mentioned in the notes as they occur and listed separately in front of the translation. We have occasionally also consulted the older edition of Couvreur on textual issues and have made heavy use of the apparatus fontium in Lucarini and Moreschini and in Couvreur and of the notes in Bernard’s German translation in identifying quotations and parallel passages. (A feature of Lucarini and Moreschini’s apparatus fontium is the references to scholia based on Hermias in the various collections of ancient scholia on Plato. Since these for the most part transcribe Hermias more or less verbatim, we have not thought it worth referring to them in our notes.) In making the translation, we have frequently consulted Bernard’s excellent translation, the only previous one into a modern language.

Notes 1 This summary is based on Westerink’s reconstruction of a lacunose passage in the Anonymous Prolegomena, cf. Westerink 1962, xl. On the grades of virtues and the goal of becoming like god, see Baltzly 2004. 2 Aulus Gellius (Noctes Atticae 1.9.9–10) scorns the student who wants to begin his study of Plato with the Phaedrus because of the speech of Lysias. 3 Hunter 2012, 168, citing Anon. Proleg. 24,6–10. 4 For the status quaestionis, see Werner 2007. 5 This generalisation holds for Apuleius’ distinctively philosophical works. Consistent with the thought that the Phaedrus was a work of more interest to rhetoricians than philosophers, we find him using allusions to it in the Metamorphoses; cf. Winkle 2013.

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Brisson 2004, 63–7. PT 4,19,7–8 and 21,14–15 Buckley 2006. It was Bielmeier who first undertook to chart the history of the interpretation of Plato’s Phaedrus among the Neoplatonists. He shared the distaste for Neoplatonic reading strategies that was common at the time and remarked upon Plotinus’ role as a turning point in the interpretation of the dialogue, which he characterised as a ‘transition from a philosophical to a mythical standpoint’ (p. 19). 10 Saffrey and Westerink 1968–97, vol. 4, xxiii. 11 Tarán 1969. 12 The existence of this commentary is explicitly attested to by Proclus at PT 4,68,22–3. 13 Saffrey and Westerink 1968–97, vol. 4, xxvii–xxix attempt to provide a more detailed reconstruction of Iamblichus’ position on the basis of our rather tenuous evidence. 14 cf. Brown 1971, Fowden 1982, Dillon 2005. 15 See below, pp. 12–13. 16 Athanassiadi 1999. 17 Thus, for instance, Couvreur’s edition omits 8,4–14 (= 9,1–11 in the pagination of Lucarini and Moreschini used in this volume) on the ground that it simply repeats what has already been said. But Praechter (1912) opposed omitting these lines from the text on such grounds since repetition is just what one would expect from notes taken on lectures. 18 cf. Zeller 1865, 747–50, Praechter 1912, and Bielmeier 1930. 19 Zeller 1965, 748. For more recent authors, see Saffrey and Westerink 1968–97, vol. 4, xxxi, who regard Hermias’ commentary as ‘an edition of notes that were taken apô phonês from a course of lectures given by Syrianus on the dialogue’. 20 Bernard 1997,19–23. 21 Manolea 2004, 52, criticises Bernard sharply for concluding that Hermias holds to an interpretation of Phaedrus 247C6–9 distinct from that of Syrianus on this question without showing that she has undertaken a thorough investigation of the evidence for Syrianus’ view. 22 Moreschini 1992. Moreschini is criticised by Cardullo 1995, 26–8, and Manolea 2004, 55–6, for neglecting Syrianus’ own enthusiasm for Orphic material and the Oracles. 23 Moreschini 2009, 521–2. 24 Bernard 1995, 220–4, cited with approval in Moreschini 2009, 522, n. 24. 25 The classic treatment is Richard 1950 and he too notes the range of degrees of independence from lecture material. Commenting upon the work entitled ‘Scholia

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on book A of Aristotle’s Metaphysics made by Asclepius from the voice of Ammonius’, Richard writes: ‘But a range of meanings are possible: either Asclepius has copied the words of his teacher like a stenographer or he sought to reproduce his teachings in his own manner with a greater or lesser degree of freedom.’ 26 As Richard notes, the only work from the Athenian school that is at least sometimes characterised as apo phônês is Marinus’ lectures on Euclid. 27 To complicate the example somewhat, Lamberton and Sheppard draw upon Hermias as a source for the views of Syrianus, but that is irrelevant to the asymmetry we want to show between the case of Syrianus and Proclus and that of Hermias and Syrianus. 28 The first part of Book 1, of course, includes some introductory material about the dialogue as a whole but discussion of the text starts on page 14, with the first lemma indicated at page 19. As a result the table does not represent exactly the relative degree of exegetical energy Hermias expends on each part of Plato’s text. Nonetheless, the general point that the part of the dialogue after the palinode is treated more superficially emerges clearly enough. 29 We have some evidence that Proclus himself composed a commentary on the Phaedrus – or at least wrote an extended interpretation of 247C–50C – that informed his exposition at PT 4,17–76. For a survey of the evidence and discussion of the alternatives, see Saffrey and Westerink 1968–97, vol. 4, xxxviii. 30 Saffrey and Westerink argued that Proclus introduced the terminology intelligible-­ intellective and hypercosmic-­encosmic, although basing it on earlier interpretations, notably those of Syrianus (1968–97, vol. 4, xxix ff., esp. xxxvi– xxxvii). Our view at this point in the project is that this is very likely. Proclus has introduced a vocabulary, but not a significant conceptual change. 31 cf. Westerink 1977, 11, citing Damascius, Princ. 1.263,9. 32 Arabatzis 2010. 33 Fryde 2000, 207. 34 cf. Allen and White 1981. 35 Allen 1980, Sheppard 1980. 36 Allen 1980, 123. 37 ibid. 125. 38 Taylor 1792. 39 Taylor has only two notes after 256B and these concern the identity of ‘Theuth’ and Pan. 40 Taylor and Sydenham 1804. 41 It is unclear to us how Taylor had access to Hermias’ commentary at the time at which he did this work, which preceded Ast’s 1810 edition of Hermias. (He in fact published a notice of Ast’s edition in the Classical Journal in 1823 and it is perhaps

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worth observing that in this notice he proclaims his confidence that the surviving notes of Hermias were drawn from a full-­scale commentary by Hermias in much the same way in which the notes from Proclus’ Cratylus commentary were imperfectly excerpted!) For the enduring mystery of the sources that Taylor worked from, see Catana 2011, 309. 42 Tigerstedt 1974. 43 Both reviews are reprinted in Apeiron for 2001 and we cite them as Mill 1804/2001 and Mill 1809/2001. Burnyeat 2001 provides an insightful analysis. 44 Ast 1810. This was the first complete edition of the text. See Lucarini and Moreschini 2012, xlv–xlviii. 45 Thompson 1868, ix. 46 Couvreur 1901. 47 Bernard 1997. 48 Lucarini and Moreschini 2012. 49 For example, at 141,14–146,18, where, as Saffrey points out (Saffrey and Westerink 1968–97, vol. 6, xxvii, n. 1), the transition from theôria to lexis occurs at 145,28. 50 cf. Remijsen 2015. 51 Heath 1989, 18–19. 52 Nussbaum 1986, Ferrari 1987. 53 cf. Nussbaum 1986, 202. 54 Vander Waerdt 1994. 55 Ahbel-Rappe and Kamtekar 2009. 56 The case is convincingly made in Layne and Tarrant 2014. Layne and Tarrant also provide ample references to the previous scholarship that argued in one way or another for the general idea that Neoplatonism is a ‘Platonism without Socrates’. 57 Roskam 2014. The other paper in this volume to concentrate specifically on Hermias is Manolea 2014. 58 Roskam 2014, 25. This is surely true and the reasons for Platonic philosophers to not celebrate pederastic activities are not hard to find. From the 390s onward Roman law set out increasingly horrible punishments for various kinds of sex acts among men. See Masterson 2014, 19–25. 59 Masterson 2014, 19. 60 cf. Baltzly 2015 for an example of the way in which the ‘self-­subsistent’ as it is articulated in Proclus’ Elements of Theology seeks to replace our empirical concept of causation with one more apt to the world of intelligibles. 61 cf. Watts 2004.

Departures from Lucarini and Moreschini’s Text The suggestions of Couvreur and Lucarini referred to here are made in their critical apparatuses but not adopted in their texts. Adding ê sôphronounta after nosounta mallon. Changing rhoên to rhopên. Retaining dialexetai, the reading of the manuscripts, in preference to the emendation dialegetai. 13,21 Changing proêgoumenon to proêgoumenôs and deleting . 14,18–19 Placing the closing bracket after logoi in line 18 rather than after poi in line 19. 22,11 Retaining epipedou, the reading of the manuscripts, in preference to the emendation epipedos. 23,12–13 Punctuating with a comma rather than a semi-­colon after ephelketai in line 12 and a full stop rather than a comma after epithumêtikon in line 13. 25,28 Retaining ei, the reading of the manuscripts, in preference to the emendation ei. 28,19 Translating anakinoun, which Lucarini and Moreschini obelise. 30,11–12 Translating (touto gar dêloi to phôs nun) anagousês, which has the support of the manuscripts, rather than (touto gar dêloi to phôs) sunanagousês. 30,21 Retaining sumballesthai, the reading of the manuscripts, in preference to the emendation sullabesthai. 33,26–7 Translating holois kosmoumenos, which Lucarini and Moreschini obelise. 35,24 Translating oupôpote phêsin, which Lucarini and Moreschini obelise. 37,4 Adopting Lucarini’s suggestion of prattousi for prostattousi. 1,19 9,23 12,1

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Retaining Sôkratên, the reading of the manuscripts, in preference to the emendation Dia. 43,20 Adopting Lucarini’s suggestion of houtôs for autôi. 48,7 Reading kai Lusiâi, which is supported by the manuscript M and the scholium ad loc., with Bernard, rather than the vocative Lusia with Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini. 49,2 Rejecting Lucarini’s addition of . 49,11 Adopting Couvreur’s suggestion of anistanto for enistanto. 53,3–8 Closing the quotation marks after doxosophiâi in 53,3 rather than after ôpheleitai in 53,8. 53,9 Correcting epimuthos, which appears to be an error, to epimuthios. 53,13 Changing skoteinou to skoteinês. 62,30 Nothing in the translation represents the obelised kathêkôn, on which see the note ad loc. 63,5 Adding eis to heautou presbuteron kai teleioteron oute ou kathelkei to kreitton eis kheiron to fill the lacuna assumed by the editors. 65,22 Closing the quotation with thaumasêis. 67,31 Removing the comma before tote. 72,12 Following Bernard in adding psukhês after Peri. 74,21 Adopting Bernard’s emendation ha autois for onta heautois, which Lucarini and Moreschini obelise. 78,2 Changing ton prôton to tên prôtên. 78,8 Retaining katorthôn, the reading of the manuscripts, in preference to the emendation katelthôn. 79,27 Rejecting the lacuna. 83,13 Rejecting the lacuna. 90,4 Placing a comma before pollakis rather than after it. 92,14–15 Adopting Bernard’s mantikês for mousikês in line 14 and Lucarini’s suggestion of hê mantikê for mantikên in line 15. 95,28 Retaining genikôtatôn, the reading of the manuscripts, in preference to the emendation genikôtatên. 96,12 Translating apodiôkousa, which Lucarini and Moreschini obelise. 101,14 Punctuating with a full stop rather than a comma after anastrephomenais. 102,21 Adopting Couvreur’s suggestion of temnontos for temontos.

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Changing tekhnikên to tekhnês. Punctuating with a question mark rather than a semicolon after apodeixeôs. Punctuating with a semi-­colon rather than a full stop. Adopting Couvreur’s suggestion of katadekhetai for katadexetai. Retaining lêsetai, the reading of the manuscripts, in preference to the emendation lêxetai.

Hermias On Plato Phaedrus 227A–245E Translation

The first of the three [books] of the scholia of the philosopher Hermias on the Phaedrus Socrates was sent down1 into [the realm of] generation as a service to the race of men and the souls of the young. However, since there is great diversity with respect to the characters and ways of life (epitêdeuma)2 of souls, he benefits each person differently.3 [He helps] the young in one way, the sophists4 in another, extending a hand5 to all and sundry and exhorting them to philosophy. Thus it is that he is now elevating (epanagein)6 Phaedrus, who is passionate about rhetoric, [to an appreciation of] the true rhetoric, i.e. philosophy.7 Let us first set forth the ‘material’ aspect (to hulikon)8 of the dialogue and its ostensible theme,9 for [that] will lend us a hand when it comes to the more theoretical (theôrêtikos)10 interpretation (epibolê) [of the dialogue] and its real objective (skopos). The rhetorician Lysias, who loves11 Phaedrus in a shameful fashion but pretends not to love him, and who wants to keep him away from other lovers, writes, in a wicked and thoroughly depraved manner, a discourse showing that one ought to gratify the non-­lover rather than the lover because the latter is mad, while the former is of sound mind,12 and, to put it briefly, that [while still] in love he13 [sc. the lover] is harmful and sick rather 14 (231D1– 2) and for this reason to be avoided by those loved by him, and in the aftermath of love an untrustworthy and unreliable kind of person; [and] so Phaedrus ought to gratify Lysias rather than his other lovers because [Lysias] doesn’t love him. Phaedrus, who greatly admires this speech [and is] a pupil and lover15 of Lysias, has fallen in with Socrates with [Lysias’] book clutched under his cloak (228D7), and has been compelled by Socrates, [by whom] he is asked where he has come from and where he is going (227A1), to read out the speech [at a spot] outside the city (2) beside the river Ilissus (229A1). After the speech has been read and Phaedrus has expressed his great admiration of it and asked Socrates to say16 whether anyone could say anything more (234E2) or finer than this [on the topics at issue], Socrates replies that it is not appropriate to praise the author of the discourse in this way, as though he had said what was needful and best, but only for having crafted each of his phrases so that it is clear, concise, and well-­rounded (234E7–8). He charges him with having jumbled up

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his chronology, his ideas, and his very words and with having started from the end (264A5), beginning where he ought to have finished – from the time after the love ­affair and not from the proper starting-­point. And [he also censures him] on the ground that what is said lacks cogent order or a single train [of thought] and a single body (264C3) so that one thing is placed [logically] after another, but is indiscriminately thrown together (264B3). And [finally he finds fault with him] for having said the same things many times, as if he were swimming on his back (264A5), and because what is said is thrown together in an indiscriminate and disorderly fashion (264B3) and the ideas lack any order.17 When Phaedrus is vexed at the criticisms of the discourse of his lover Lysias and insists that no speaker could have spoken finer or better words than these (235C1), Socrates claims to have heard certain people uttering fuller (235C2–3; 235B4) and finer words on these very matters, viz. the beautiful Sappho and the wise Anacreon (235C3), and because of this he too is in a position (235C6) to say things that are better and finer than the words of Lysias along the lines of what was said by them. [Phaedrus] says that [Socrates] should in speaking steer clear of what Lysias has said, and then he will set up a golden statue (235D9) of him. Socrates replies that Phaedrus is truly golden18 if he deems him to be saying that Lysias is entirely off the track in his discourse (235E1–2), for this wouldn’t even happen to the worst of writers. To go no further than the subject of the speech (235E4–6), it is available (prokheiros) to anyone to say that the one who is in love is sick, while the non-­lover is of sound mind, and that one should gratify the person who is of sound mind rather than the one who is sick. So, in the case of things that are obvious to come up with, one should not praise the invention but the arrangement [of the material], but in the case of things that are hard to come up with, the invention as well as the arrangement (236A3–6). In fact (oun) he [sc. Lysias] is †sterile† in the arrangement [of his material] as well, starting at the end (264A5) and employing his ideas and his words (3) in an indiscriminate and disorderly fashion (264B3).19 When Phaedrus has agreed to this (for the statement was reasonable), Socrates gives the second speech, embarking upon (kathienai) the same theme as Lysias, though with his head covered (237A4) on the ground that, because he is in some sense about to speak against Love,20 he is not willingly handling this theme but [only doing so] for the benefit of the young man. And first, since the word ‘love’ was ambiguous (for it signified something bad (phaulos) among (kata) the many, but [also] something else [that is]

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good),21 Socrates first defines which kind of love he is talking about. And after saying that love is by genus a desire (epithumia) – since non-­lovers also have desires (237D4) and there are specific names for [such people too], for some are dubbed money-­grubbers, others wine-­bibbers or horse-­fanciers, whereas those who are powerfully attracted when it comes to the desire for bodies are called amorous (erôtikos) by the many, and that sort of love (erôs) is desire that is greatly strengthened in the face of bodily beauty (238C2), although it should be called lust (hubris) (238A2) rather than love – Socrates will then, after dividing his own discourse into the period when [the lover] is in love and the period when he is not in love (as Lysias also did, albeit untidily), level criticism (diabolê) at both periods. He says that the first part of the speech, the time when he is in love, is all about harm to the beloved and that this harm is three-­ fold: to his soul, to his body, to his possessions. He prevents the beloved from having conversations (logos) that would lead him toward virtue and self-­ control (sôphrosunê) and exhorts him to practices most pleasing to his own [sc. the lover’s] desire. He wants him to be bereft of friends and relatives (239E6) so that as far as possible22 he can be with him one on one, and then (epeita) to be hard up for money so that he can keep his beloved devoted to (prosekhein) him and no one else. Even the time they spend together (sunousia) is devoid of pleasure because the one is getting on, the other a young man [and] those of a like age enjoy one another’s company (240C1–2).23 The second part of the speech, in which [the lover] isn’t [any longer] in love, [deals with]24 faithlessness and neglect (lêthê), for when he has had his fill (pauesthai) of love, then at a toss of a coin25 (241B4; cf. Republic 521C5) he will flee from [his one-­time] (4) beloved dishonouring his many protestations (logos) and promises (Symp. 183E4). Thus [the lover] is untrustworthy (240E9) and unreliable. Having thus completed his account (logos) of the bad points (kaka) that someone who loves in this manner has, Socrates breaks off his speech and declares that he will have nothing to say about the good points (agatha) the non-­lover has – because, he says, I will become divinely inspired next if I begin to speak about that since I’ve [already] been possessed (numpholêptos)26 (238D1) by the Nymphs (241E3–4). After all, if I could say so much in condemning (241E2) the bad points a lover has, what would I say if I were to sing the praises of the good points a non-­lover has? Just be aware, he says, that for every bad point we said the lover has, the non-­lover has the opposite good point (241E6).

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Having said these things, he was intending to cross the river (242A1) and leave when his accustomed sign, or daemon (242B8–9), came to him and he heard a voice (242C1–2). This [daemon] acts as an impediment to his current [intention] (to paron). Accordingly he realised that he should not be leaving because he has made the mistake of in some sense speaking against Love, who is [after all] a god. So what [should he do]? He says that first there must be expiation. The expiation is the palinode, the hymning of Love. At least he’s better off with regard to this than Homer or Stesichorus. Homer, struck blind for speaking ill of Helen, didn’t even realise [what had happened]; Stesichorus, [similarly] deprived of [the use of] his eyes due to his slander of Helen (243A5– B4), did realise [what had happened] and once he had sung his palinode (243B2) could immediately see again. So he [continues Socrates] is better off than both of them, than Homer because he didn’t even perceive the origin [of his affliction], than Stesichorus because he27 has perceived [the threat] before being afflicted (243B4). Accordingly, his head now uncovered (243B6), he delivers his second speech, the palinode, on Love and the benefits he is responsible for on our behalf. After first making the most universal and true statement that whatever the subject, my boy, there is a single starting-­point, knowing what you are talking about; otherwise you’re bound to get everything wrong (237B7–C2) – that is, [one must] know the thing (ousia) under discussion – he [then], with regard to what in fact appears to be the strongest argument in the earlier speech,28 [namely,] that the one party is mad, while the other is of sound mind (244A5), shows that madness is not a simple thing, but that there also exists a kind of divine madness. And, dividing [this]29 madness itself into four parts – mantic, telestic,30 poetic, and erotic – he assigns presiding (ephoros) gods to each, [namely] Apollo, Dionysus, the Muses, and Love,31 listing all the benefits that are bestowed [on us] through them, [i.e.] through mantic, telestic, poetic 32 hence, [he says,] the ‘t’ has been added, for after initially being called ‘manic’, it was subsequently termed ‘mantic’ (244C1–5). Thus much (5) to show that the term ‘madness’ is not [necessarily] pejorative (phaulos). Next, because he is about to describe how many things33 are bestowed upon us as a consequence of love, he first defines love so that we’ll understand in what sense [of the word] he is making these statements [about it], as he also did in the previous discourse. And since the one who is in love is mad, he

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defines love as a divine madness attendant upon (kata) recollection of beauty itself.34 So since there would be no recollection of this unless the soul were immortal, he discourses briefly on the immortality of the soul, presenting arguments that are scientific and demonstrative on the subject (245C5–246A3). And since [the soul] is incorporeal and invisible, he indicates its nature (eidos) by saying that it resembles the power inherent in [the union of] a pair of winged horses and their charioteer (246A6–7). And since he holds that the soul is winged and that what is naturally winged must at times shed its wings and at times sprout wings (251C4), he talks of35 the ascent and the descent and the transmigration of the souls, about how both the divine and human ones follow after Zeus the great leader, some always, others only sometimes, his [sc. Zeus’] host being divided into eleven parts (247A1); and [he says] that some [of the souls] run beyond the vault (ta nôta) of heaven, gazing upon justice-­itself, moderation-­itself (autosôphrosunê) and the rest of the series, that others sometimes rise [and see the sights] and sometimes fall away (248A5), and that [yet] others are carried down into [the sphere of] generation and choose [among] the nine ways of life on the basis of their vision of the forms up there. Now one who is newly initiated is swiftly conveyed (250E1–2) from the beautiful here below to the beauty in intellect and reveres his beloved and takes him with him toward the Intelligible, embracing one common life [with him], inasmuch as he is held in check by propriety (to kosmion) and takes divine love as his guide.36 The person who is not of this character and who delights in the shameful [side] of pleasure and in licentious love is carried down into the irrationality and mindlessness of matter. These things are fully conveyed, and in a very lively manner, by the image of the charioteer and the two horses, the one complying with orders and obedient to the charioteer, the other frenzied and not submitting to the goad. Having delivered the palinode to love, he prays to Love himself, both on his own behalf and on behalf of Lysias and Phaedrus. For himself [he asks] (6) that the erotic [art]37 he [sc. Love] has given him may remain [with him], for Lysias and Phaedrus, that they may be turned to philosophy. And he asks Phaedrus to prevail upon Lysias to write the [case for] the opposite [viewpoint]. But [Phaedrus] says [Lysias] wouldn’t be willing to do that because someone had just recently called him a ‘speechwriter’ (257C5–6) by way of reproach. [Socrates] replies that it isn’t simply writing speeches that

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is a matter for reproach, but writing them badly. Writing them well is no reproach. And in this way the discussion (logos) of rhetoric is introduced. [Socrates] next asks what it is to write and speak well and answers that good writing occurs when someone with a knowledge of the truth about the topic in question (pragma) does the writing and speaking. Phaedrus replies that this isn’t what he’s heard, but rather that there’s no need to know the truth but only the appearance of the truth, in other words, what is plausible. Socrates demonstrates the absurdity of this statement from the [anecdote] of the horse and the ass, where someone who doesn’t know the difference between them talks to another person who is [similarly] ignorant and persuades him that the ass is actually a horse. Anyone, then, who is going to write well must know the truth of things. And this is how the true and the popular rhetoric are distinguished (exetazein): the former is acquainted with truth, is a knowledge of what is just and what not just, is an attendant of philosophy, belongs to the philosopher alone, and creates and delivers content that is pleasing to gods (273E7) and men; the popular kind, on the other hand, produces a kind of allurement or charming of the soul38 and is a sort of knack that lacks all art (260E5) and is without any science. Next, turning to those who have written rhetorical handbooks (tekhnê), he censures them for writing about things they know nothing about with the purpose of deceiving the young. They talk of introduction and narration, of proofs and of certain ‘confirmations’,39 of ‘refutations’ and incidental praise, of ‘insinuations’ and incidental censure, and they say that rather than the truth one should make use of probabilities (266D7–267A6), as was the belief of Gorgias and Tisias. Then he also mentions Polus, who claimed to have invented duplication and aphorism (267C1) 40 and the high-­flown utterances, the laments, the bewitchments, the incitements to anger (exorgêsis)41 of the man from Chalcedon.42 The recapitulation, or the [practice of] reminding the listeners of everything in summary form (267D4–6), is [he says] common property. These, he says, (7) are [all] essential studies for rhetoric, or, better, the preliminaries to the art (269B7–8). The art itself, however, lies in the use of them and in the judgement as to when, to what extent, and for what kind [of auditors] (pôs ekhousi) one should use (legein) the things just mentioned. And as witnesses to this statement he calls the mellifluous Adrastus (269A5)

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and Pericles son of Xanthippus. The case is in fact the same with rhetoric as it is with medicine. Just as it is necessary for the genuine doctor to be acquainted with the nature of bodies, and with that of medicines too, and as well as these [to understand] ailments (pathos),43 so that, by administering the right medicines (270B6–7) to the right bodies and for the right ailments (pathêma), he may make the patient (anthrôpos) well, in the same way, since rhetoric is an allurement of the soul (271C10), the rhetorician must know both the nature of the soul (whether it is a compound entity or a simple one) and, after that, the [various] types of discourse, and, in addition to these, different kinds of ailments [of the soul].44 In this way, [always] delivering the right speeches to the right [audiences], he will at one time persuade, at another heal, accomplishing each on the appropriate occasions. That is what he has to say about the art of discourses. In what follows he inquires in relation to the writing of them for what purposes (pêi) it is acceptable (kalôs ekhei) to write, for what purposes not acceptable. It is acceptable when it is done as a pastime or as an aide-­mémoire against an old age of forgetfulness (276D1–3), but not acceptable when one gets serious about these things as though about some great blessing (agathon). He recounts a story he has heard concerning Theuth and Ammon, about how Hermes,45 in addition to the other arts, invented writing, and thought it was an elixir (pharmakon) for memory and a cause of wisdom (274E6). Thamus, on the other hand, didn’t think so, but on the contrary believed that it was a recipe for forgetfulness due to the neglect 46 because they have been written down (for, depending on them because they have been written down, [people] neglect the rehearsal (meletê) [of their knowledge] and lose what they have learned),47 and [moreover] the source of an overestimation of their own wisdom (doxosophia) (for, because they have heard a lot they will think they know a lot 275A7–8),48 although they are [actually] suffering from the disease (nosein) of ignorance). So, on account of these and other similar considerations, written discourses are not deserving of overmuch serious attention (277E8); rather, [it is only] those written in the souls of the listeners by the knowledge of the person who speaks [them] and writes [them] in the soul [that are] (277E5 ff.). You report these [findings] to Lysias and we’ll convey them to Isocrates, says [Socrates], after praising the nature, the character and the speeches of the latter.

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Bringing his words to a close, [Socrates] addresses a prayer befitting a wise man to Pan and the gods (8) of the place, [asking] that he become fair49 within and that [his] external [circumstances] be favourable (philos) to his inner life and that the quantity of [his] gold be [only] as much as a wise man can carry;50 for, he says, let it be the wise man that I count rich (279B8–C3). Such, in brief, is the material aspect. He is, they say, principally giving instruction about love, and the way in which one might direct this [impulse] called the erotic51 (which is a motion, whether natural or divine, of the soul) towards what is better and reform it to the advantage of oneself and one’s partner (ho koinônôn), and [about] how one should live; and he shows that Love is not a passion but a god, the saviour and elevator (anagôgeus) of souls. Others [say that the dialogue is] about rhetoric and designed to exhort Phaedrus to philosophy because he [sc. Socrates] saw that he [sc. Phaedrus] was suited to philosophy but neglectful of it because of [his] enthusiasm for rhetoric and because he was enthusiastic about [merely] persuasive speeches [and so] was teaching him that by studying philosophy he would become a competent orator. Hence he also distinguishes the true rhetoric from the popular kind. Accordingly, it is for the benefit of the young man, that he also writes [a speech] in reply to Lysias’ speech.52

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its external [orientation] and its gravitation57 toward [the] other58 and things here [below], for we provide information (phrazein) for the sake of others and we converse with one another. Thus one might say that [on both of these readings] the objective concerns a psychic (psukhikos)59 principle.60 Then there are those who advocate various other objectives. Some have said that it is about soul on account of the things that are demonstrated here on the subjects of its immortality and its form. Others that it is about the Good because he said no poet has celebrated61 (9) the place beyond the heavens worthily62 and none ever shall celebrate it worthily (247C3–4) and also colourless, shapeless and intangible being, visible only to the pilot of the soul63 (247C6–7). Because of these [words] they have also said that it64 [sc. the objective] is theological. Others [claim] that it is about the primary beauty on account of what is said about the intelligible forms in the palinode. All of these people have seized on certain parts of the content of the dialogue and declared that the objective concerns them. But there must be a single objective throughout and everything else must be included (paralambanein)65 for its sake, so that, as in a living being, everything may be subordinated to the one [whole].66 Hence, as we shall report later,67 Iamblichus says that the objective concerns beauty of every kind. Let us now state the charges that some people bring against Plato on account of the present work so that, with these cleared up, our reading can then [proceed] without distraction. First, they say that it wasn’t proper of him to have discoursed [both] against love and on behalf of love, contending zealously for each side like some [ambitious] youth. Next, [they say that] to write against Lysias’ speech and in competition with it looks like the act of a malicious and contentious young man who makes fun of the orator and lampoons him for his lack of skill.68 Next, [they accuse him of] having also used tasteless, pompous, high-­flown and, as he has indicated69 himself, rather poetic diction (lexis). To the first [charge] one should reply that it is Plato’s custom to scrutinise opposing arguments (logos) with a view to discovering and making trial of the truth. In this way [he writes] against justice and on behalf of justice in the Republic (358 ff.) [and] in the Sophist (237 ff.) about [both] being and non-­ being. So now too he has spoken against love, combating [the usage of] the word among the many (tôn pollôn) [and] showing that it (houtos)70 is not love

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but lust and a certain state (pathos)71 of the soul, for Love as god is quite different, being a purveyor of many good things to human beings and an elevator of souls. Accordingly it was necessary for the salvation of humanity (tôn anthrôpôn) (10) to develop (gumnazein) the speeches on love in both directions (ep’ amphô), refuting72 the view of the many, because they believe that love goes either way (ep’ amphô).73 In response to the second [charge], that of writing against Lysias, one should say that just as the contemplative philosopher, for the benefit of humanity, gives himself over to the ordering of the city and becomes publicly active (politikos) and a juror,74 in the same way the philosopher75 too, seeing that Phaedrus had an aptitude for philosophy, but was suffering harm through his association with the orator, and suffering damage to his honour and reputation (ta timia) (for it was because he loved him in a base manner that Lysias composed his speech so as to win him over), on that account, in exposing the criminal and deceptive nature of his soul, its godlessness and its dark [secrets], he was compelled to tackle the same subject (hupothesis) as Lysias in order to show up the underlying absurdity (atopia) of Lysias’ speech, both with respect to its wording (lexeis),76 with which Phaedrus had been greatly impressed, and with respect to its ideas, [thereby] leading [Phaedrus] up from the external and phenomenal77 (phainomenos) beauty [that is present] in shallow (psilos)78 and godless words to psychic and intellective beauty.79 In response to the third [charge], the [alleged] pomposity of [his] style, one should say that Plato everywhere uses a style that is appropriate to the matters in question. In the first place, then, since the style (kharaktêr) of Lysias’ speech was pared-­back and spare, he wanted, quite reasonably, to employ the opposite, more high-­sounding, style so as to impress and win over the young man; and, secondly, the theology in question (hupokeimenos), that of love, and the scientific inquiry (phusiologia)80 involved, that into the nature of intelligible being, called for the dignity (axiôma) of such language.81 For since he was talking of things that are unseen and unknown by the many, he fittingly also used lofty language, which the ordinary citizen (ho politikos)82 or the common man could not access.83 The dialogue is, on account of Phaedrus, ethical and purificatory, critical, exhortative to philosophy; on account of the discourses on love, scientific (phusikos) and theological; on account of the discourses on rhetoric, discursive (logikos).84

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What the true objective of the dialogue is Some, considering only its beginning and its latter [stages] (ta telê), have declared that the dialogue is about rhetoric. Others [have held] that it is about the soul, since it is above all here [in this dialogue] that he produces proofs on the subject of its immortality. [Yet] others [have held that it is] about love because the starting-­point and impetus for the dialogue has emerged from this. For (11) Lysias, being himself very much in love with Phaedrus but pretending not to love [him], has written a speech about how one should not gratify the lover but the non-­lover. Wanting, then, to keep him away from other lovers, Lysias deviously (kakourgôs) composes a speech [which argues] that one should gratify the non-­lover rather than the lover. [And] Socrates too will discourse85 on this [sc. on love], both on this licentious love and on the chaste (sôphrôn)86 [kind] and the divine and inspired [kind], [arguing that] one ought to gratify and practise (akolouthêteon) the latter kind (tôi toiôide) of love, the chaste and divine [kind].87 Others have also said that it [sc. the dialogue] is theological because of the things that are said in the middle of the dialogue, [still] others that it is even about the Good since he says neither has any poet celebrated the place beyond the heavens worthily (247C3–4) and colourless and shapeless being (247C6),88 and others [again] that it is about the primary beauty. All these people have made a statement about the objective of the entire dialogue on the basis of some part of it.89 Actually, he clearly inserts the statements (logos) about the soul for the sake of something else. And those about the primary beauty too, for he has ascended from the other beautiful things to it and the place beyond the heavens.90 And what is more he is clearly directing (anapherein) the speeches about love at the object of love.91 We should, then, neither say that there are many objectives (for everything [else] should be ordered in relation to some one [thing] in order that the discourse be like a single living thing),92 93 nor make statements about the whole on the basis of a part, but should subordinate the discourse to a single objective. This [objective] is, to put it briefly, [that it is] concerned with beauty of every kind. Hence he begins from the phenomenal beauty that is present in the outward form of Phaedrus, whose lover was Lysias, who, in a falling away from [the character of] the genuine lover, was a licentious lover. Next he moves

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on to the beauty in speeches, of which [beauty] Phaedrus is portrayed (paradidonai) as a lover – and Lysias (or Lysias’ speech) as [his] beloved. Hence there is mutual love between Phaedrus and Lysias and both are both lover and beloved, though not with the same [kind of] love. Hence each one is both better and worse than the other in some respect. For qua lover Phaedrus is better and Lysias worse, since Lysias was in love with the body and with licentious desire, while Phaedrus was in love with the beauty [inherent] in speeches and in the arrangement of words, which is something that is in a way more immaterial. On the other hand, qua object of love Lysias (that is to say, the speech of Lysias) is better, while Phaedrus is worse, since, again, Phaedrus’ object of love is the speech of Lysias, while Lysias’ object of love is Phaedrus [himself].94 Then step by step, Socrates ascends from the beauty in speeches to the beauty of souls (psukhikos), that is, the virtues and (12) sciences (epistêmê);95 then to the [beauty] of the encosmic gods in the palinode; then to the intelligible beauty and the very source of beauty and the god Love and the-­beautiful-­ itself.96 97 From there he descends again, by means of [the method of] division, to the beauty of souls and the beauty of the virtues and sciences, then back once more to the beautiful in speeches, joining the end to the beginning.98 Also99 putting it briefly, one might divide the entire meaning (dianoia) of the dialogue into three [sections] and into three ways of living: into the licentious way of life, which is seen in the speech of Lysias, the chaste way, which is seen in Socrates’ first speech, and, third, the divinely-­inspired way that is observed in the palinode and in Socrates’ final speech.100 Corresponding to these ways of life there are the agents of love (ta erônta)101 and you should assume kinds of love (erôtes) and objects of love (erasta) that match (kata) the agents of love. So those who said that the dialogue was about love were not too far off the mark (skopos),102 since love is to be seen in the ascent to the object of love. However, neither should the differences (diaphora) that are ready to hand (sunengus) pass unnoticed, since Plato himself has given some not unimportant distinctions (diakrisis) with regard to love and the object of love. And it is obvious that the primary objective here does not have to do with love, for he does not teach about either its substance (ousia) or its power (dunamis), but [only] talks about its action (energeia)103 on the cosmos and souls, namely that it leads all things up to the object of love (to eraston) or (kai) the beautiful. And whenever Plato is dealing with something as his primary subject

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(proêgoumenôs),104 he discusses these three: substance, power, activity (energeia). Hence in the Symposium, since there the discourse on [Love]105 was primary, in order to inform [us] of his intermediate position (mesotês) and his station (taxis) [in the hierarchy of gods], he has called him a ‘great daemon’ on the ground that he binds the things that are secondary to those that are primary.106 Here, however, since the discourse on beauty, toward which Love leads all things, is primary, he is called a god [rather than a daemon].107 The characters [of the dialogue] are Lysias (or at least his speech), Phaedrus and Socrates. Lysias and Phaedrus are lovers of one another, as previously (12,19) noted. Socrates is a protector of young men who exercises providential care over Phaedrus and leads him up from the phenomenal and external beauty that is found in speeches to psychic and to intellective beauty.108 109 Since there are some who find fault with the language for being bombastic because [of the style] of what is said in the palinode, one must reply that Socrates uses words that are appropriate to the subject matter. Because he is talking about things that are invisible (13) and unknowable to the masses, he has fittingly also used words that are elevated and appropriate to intellectual and divine being.110

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Here begins the interpretation of the Platonic text 1.111 That the objective [of the dialogue] is beauty of every kind – first that in the sensible [realm] and in nature; then that in speeches; and [then, going] higher, that in soul and in sciences and pursuits (epitêdeumata);112 and [then, going] higher still, that in intellect; and finally that in gods113 – the first phrase [of the dialogue], my dear [Phaedrus], makes clear. For the beautiful is dear, being such that it calls [things] to itself and turns [them] towards itself. Hence it is called kalon [sc. ‘beautiful’] from the fact that it calls (kalein) lovers to itself.114 [The next phrase] Where from and where to? is again indicative of the beauty in the sensible [realm], for sensible beauty is always in motion and in [process of] coming to be (genesis) and passing away (phthora).115 So, since Phaedrus had been excited by the phenomenal beauty that is in speeches, [a beauty] which is observed in [their] motion and flow (for words are the images of

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thoughts in the soul),116 and [since] all motion is from somewhere and to somewhere, [Socrates] accordingly asks where from and where to?. Or alternatively,117 because Socrates made it his business to care for [the welfare of] young men and someone who is going to cure something must first assess its entire condition and only then embark on the treatment, on that account too Socrates inquires what kind of company (sunousiai) he is coming from and what kind he is keen on, in case he has been corrupted by some [of that] company. Since Cephalus is presented to us in the Republic as a person who holds correct opinions (orthodoxastikos) [but lacks true knowledge] and Phaedrus was enamoured of a speech of Lysias, [the words] from Lysias, the son of Cephalus, show that phenomenal beauty is to be grasped by opinion along with sense perception and not by (14) knowledge.118 I’m going for a walk outside the wall shows that he is about to go to a better and higher life and, as it were, counter to (para)119 the many. As compared to different things or from different points of view (epibolê), the same thing can be understood either as better or as worse. For instance, if for us ‘clear’ (leukos) means what is manifest (saphês), what can be grasped by the senses and is very easy to make out, ‘obscure’ (melas) would mean what is not manifest, what is superior to sense-­based knowledge, what is deep and able to be grasped only by intellection; but if ‘obscure’ means what is dark and confused and not manifest (in the sense of being inferior to what is manifest), then ‘clear’ indicates what is manifest and familiar and the light of the mind120 and perspicuous. So too with the town or city. Since the many dwell in it, it is clear that in Phaedrus’ case I’m going outside the wall stands for ‘[I’m going] far from the many and the beaten track’, that is, ‘I’m about to go to a better and higher life’, whereas in Socrates’ case the city – since [Phaedrus] says later you’re just like a visitor being shown the sights (230C7–D1), and you aren’t willing to travel or leave the city – indicates that Socrates, or the wise man, always clings to his own roots, or the intelligibles, and never abandons (existasthai) himself.121 Appropriately, Socrates, the young man’s guardian,122 calls Phaedrus ‘dear’ from the outset (prooimion). After all, to the extent that hostility or disagreement over behaviour123 get in the way, the initiator [cannot] initiate nor the initiand be initiated.124 For how will anyone who has chosen to watch over (pronoein) a person elevate someone he has not felt affection for (philein)? And how will a

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teacher teach someone with a soul that is not suited to learning? If strife is the opposite of love (philia) and strife is the origin (arkhê) of separation, then it is reasonable that love should be [the origin] of union.125 But union of things that are separate may not occur unless one of them first lays hold of the other – the more active one [laying hold] of the needy one, as fire does of iron, to take a clear example. Thus, here too, Socrates, by having called Phaedrus ‘dear’, lays hold of him by means of this form of address in order to make him worthy of associating with him. And if there is any need to interpret (anaptussein) the name ‘Phaedrus’ as well (for the ancients were no worse placed with regard to these matters either)126 one should be aware that Phaedrus, [who was] in pursuit of phenomenal beauty (for he was a lover of the speeches of Lysias), has learned127 about the truly real (15) and higher (anôterô) [kind of beauty] from Socrates.128 So, [by] focusing on the phenomenal, he unawares lit upon the veiled and intelligible, i.e. hidden and difficult to discern (dioran) (this is what [the name] ‘Phaedrus’ indicates),129 and moved from [one kind of] beauty to [another kind of] beauty, so as to be the type of the person who will learn about the beauty that is known by [Socrates].130 From this we also learn something else: that because we have a drive (hormê) towards the good,131 an eagerness, a desire [for it], even though we often go wrong on account of appearance (to phainomenon), nevertheless, in [the business of] learning about reality (to on), we are not badly placed with regard to it because our soul already possesses it, even if it was mistaken about the matter (pragma) [in question]. After all, if Phaedrus had not desired beauty, he would not have learned about beauty. [The phrase where to and where from] may seem back to front.132 There being six kinds of motion, where from [and] where to specify local motion (phora).133 Now, where from comes first, while where to follows (epagesthai). But one could say (1)134 from a logical perspective that while motion has where from as its commencement and where to as its termination, the intention of the person who moves has where to as a kind of commencement as it were. After all, unless some other inborn135 desire is going to move that person to that [destination] he would not start out from where [he is] (enteuthen). [And this is so] not only in the case of living things but even in the case of natural [processes], for we call the movement towards health (hugeia) ‘getting well’

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(hugiansis) and that towards sickness (nosos) ‘sickening’ (nosansis) because the movements are named from their destinations (telos). And (2) from the ethical point of view [one could say] that Socrates has regard for Phaedrus and says in effect: ‘Where are you going? Where have you come from? You’ve abandoned true beauty, the beauty in divine things, and are marvelling at the beauty in speeches. Look what you’ve come down to and then you’ll recognise where you’ve come from. For, just as in the case of, let us say, roads and other places (topos),136 we don’t seek out the earlier ones unless we come to the realisation that the later ones are more difficult, in the same way here too, Phaedrus, you cannot learn what you’ve been snatched away from unless you recognise how far and where you have been taken along (sunelaunein). For your present wrong turning (diamartia), being recent, is capable of carrying [you] back (anagein), by a sort of retrogression,137 to the condition that truly befits the soul.’ And one can also say (3) from the physical perspective (phusikôs) that138 the second efficient cause after the Demiurge, [i.e.] nature (phusis) (it goes without saying that the divine is the demiurge of nature (16) itself as well [as of everything else]),139 [when] forming everything from matter, does not first ask what origins matter has had and from what motions [it has originated], but for what purpose it has been endowed with (ekhein) suitability. It is when it is assessed on that basis – according to its rational principles (logos) and formative numbers – that the product is brought to completion. For what if the seed is from good origins and sources (genesis) but isn’t itself viable for the [intended] purpose, being faulty in some way? Since, then, Socrates has the status of efficient [cause] and Phaedrus [that] of material [cause], [Socrates] has with reason first investigated [Phaedrus’] fitness for his purpose so that he won’t be labouring in vain in the event that there is some obstacle.140 But he does also pose the question where from [as his] next [priority] (deuterôs). For this too is no small matter. After all a vine could never grow from an olive pit or a bay tree from a grape seed, but each of them grows from its own beginnings (arkhê) in accordance with the law (logos) of nature.141 Having been asked a two-­part question the young man has also given a two-­ part answer. However, on the surface (to phainomenon) he has, in Homeric style, given [his answer] chiastically for clarity’s sake, for he has dealt with the ‘where from’ first, in the manner of [Homer’s] ‘screams of pain and shouts of triumph, from killers and killed’,142 whereas the [deeper] meaning is that reason

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also knows that that second [answer], i.e. ‘where he is going’, is more essential. In any case, it has been dealt with (diatêrein)143 later so that he can quietly introduce (hupanoigein) the topics (logos) for their conversation.144 This is also characteristic of speechwriters, but more so of writers of dialogues and of Plato himself. Or, alternatively: Since the where from has the status of matter and the where to that of form, by adding the where to to the where from he has shown that form brings together and defines matter. And Socrates, because he is exalted and philosophical, has first sought the where to, as being form, while Phaedrus, who is uninitiated (atelês) and still preoccupied with oratory, which makes use of the matters of particular things, has given preference to the where from, as being matter. I am going (227A2): Answers are found to be pretty much (tis) of three kinds. One kind is necessary, one helpful (philanthrôpos), one redundant.145 For example, [in reply to] ‘Where is Dion?, ‘He’s not here’ is the necessary [answer], ‘He’s not here. He’s in the school’, the helpful one, ‘He’s not here. He’s in the school to do this or that’, the redundant one. In this case, then, where from has received a merely necessary reply,146 (17) where to one that is also helpful, since he adds for a walk (that is to say, ‘walking’; the language is elevated in that it employs a noun (onomastikos), Phaedrus being as it were elevated by [the use of] ‘walk’, since it is appropriate to a man who has chosen to be sound in both body and mind.) He [sc. Plato] has rejected the redundant [reply] because he [sc. Phaedrus] was not to incur a charge (graphesthai) of garrulity147 when replying to Socrates.148 Besides, by this (enteuthen) he is also paving the way for their conversation (sunousia), for the walk is a necessity for their exchange (homilia) [to occur] and a pleasant [interlude] (kharieis),149 the word [sc. ‘walk’] indicating that there is also the need of our choice with regard to beautiful things (ta kala) for the power that produces beauty (kallopoios)150 to be activated to our benefit.151 And besides, he has left the from where without a [stated] cause, but sets out the cause of the where to; for since the where to is the goal (telos) of motion in place and the goal is that for the sake of which [something is done], in order that the motion should not seem to be aimless, he sets out the final (telikos) cause. After all, any cause is [a cause] of coming into being rather than of passing away (apoginesthai), and because of this he has left the from where without a [stated]

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cause, having both intimated the cause of [Phaedrus’] having come to be with Lysias there (kakeise), and thence (kanteuthen) simultaneously also intimated that of his leaving (apoginesthai). For by saying from Lysias, of Cephalus152 (that is to say, ‘son of ’, for that is the meaning in Attic even without the article) and [thereby] introducing the orator, he has shown both [that] he came to him for the sake of rhetorical instruction and [that] he left him for the sake of relaxation.

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I spent a long time and sitting indicate that dallying (strophê) among material things and spending time on phenomenal beauty is onerous and irksome. And sitting also shows that the contemplation of the latter is neither lofty nor uplifting but low and hollow (koiloteros) and base, and that it pulls and drags [one] down from a better life, as does Socrates’ being seated in the Phaedo.153 3. In what sense does he call Acumenus a ‘companion’ of both Socrates and himself? He [calls him] Socrates’ companion because both of them are doctors; for what Socrates is in the field of the soul Acumenus is in the field of the body, [both men being] healers and purgers (kathartikos)154 of their (18) patients (hupokeimenos).155 And [he calls him] the companion of Phaedrus because both of them are excited about the phenomenal, for Phaedrus is excited about the phenomenal beauty that is found in speeches and Acumenus is a physician of the phenomenal, that is, of the body – for which reason [he is called] Acumenus,156 as being a healer of the body. ‘Courses’ were certain places where the young men used to run.157 So walks are less tiring than those exercises on the courses because they exercise [one] in a leisurely manner and in small doses and have resting-­places near at hand, since one can be seated when one wishes. 4. But Lysias was (227B2)

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Morychus’ [house] means [a house] that was formerly (apo) a certain Morychus’. Some people have attempted to base something on an interpretation160 of the names Epicrates, Morychus, and Phaedrus – along the lines that the dark (to skoteinon) and enmattered is overcome by the brightness (to lampron) of Phaedrus161 – but since this seems dubious (gliskhros),162 let us deal with (lambanein) what is anyway more germane to all that is said [here], the historical facts.163 Lysias, then, is reported to have surpassed his contemporaries in beauty of language and to have had a licentious passion for boys, and Phaedrus to have been beautiful in outward appearance (eueidês to phainomenon)164 and passionate about the spoken word.165 Morychus, for his part, was a certain gluttonous person and comedy denigrates him as a glutton.166 To have represented the licentious Lysias, then, as staying in the glutton’s house is appropriate.

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5. Close to the temple of Olympian Zeus indicates that even phenomenal beauty is bestowed on generation by Zeus and the Olympian gods. In what sense does Socrates consider it above [all] business167 to learn about [their] [sc. Phaedrus and Lysias’] time together (sunousia)? Well, (19) business means time spent on human affairs and being drawn to [this] mortal life, leisure the putting aside of human things and being drawn instead to the more intellective and purer life. Hence, as Aristotle also says, the turning towards oneself and putting aside of human things is called a ‘leisured’ [life].168 So, since caring for the souls of the young was a concern of Socrates, he accordingly says that he puts it above all business, [which is] equivalent to ‘for your benefit I shall gladly descend to an emptier life and to the examination of Lysias’ speech’. But Lysias was (227B2): It makes sense for someone who is an orator and who seeks phenomenal beauty to spend his time in the city with its thronging crowds. After all, as a professional (tekhnitês) orator he is involved with [his] material (hulê), i.e. public affairs, and as one who pursues appearances (to phainomenon), he seeks the approval of the many. So it is not possible for him to live in peace and quiet as long as that’s his profession (proairesis).169 For, just as peace and quiet become a kind of nourishment, as it were, for the soul that

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seeks intelligible beauty, so too do the thronging multitude and political plaudits for the one that focuses on appearance (to phainomenon). The man who lives according to this latter regime is called ‘vain’ by Aristotle as being puffed up on account of the people and their plaudits, the one who lives according to the former, ‘great-­souled’ as despising such accolades and seeking the sincere (akolakeutos) endorsement of men on account of his virtue.170 Now, an example of the former style of life (politeia) is Socrates, who had put his trust in and was glorified (kudrousthai) by the witness of the god,171 of the second [kind of] corruption, Lysias, who spends his life in the city and is engrossed in (kalindeisthai)172 public affairs. One should also say this. The cognitive faculties (dunamis) of the soul are five in number: intellect, discursive thought (dianoia), opinion, imagination, and sense perception.173 The mean (meson) of these is opinion.174 For since intellect is always occupied with truly real things and apprehends (noein) the things it is able to grasp as though by a kind of touching,175 and discursive thought for its part too is occupied with things that remain the same (ta hôsautôs ekhonta) but [in its case] with a measure of reasoning and demonstration, it was necessary that the things in generation, which are [always] coming to be and ceasing to be and different at different times, should have some [mental] faculty (hexis) (20) to understand (gnôrizein) them. And this is opinion (doxa), which, since it seizes upon its conclusions without any reasoning, sometimes hits the mark, and is sometimes wide of the mark – for its subject-­matter too is not permanent (aei) and unchanging. Given, then, that the faculty of opinion is found to be twofold [sc. hitting the mark versus being wide of it], Socrates is an image (eikôn) of its hitting the mark. [For] by being in control of the facts and speaking authoritatively (apophantikôs) and from a general perspective (katholou) – he says176 [later, for example,] whatever the subject, my boy, there is a single starting-­point (237B7), and here has said as it seems (227B2–3) and been correct in the opinion he has stated177 – he illustrates the kind of opinion that hits the mark. Lysias, on the other hand, is an image of [its] missing the mark in that he focuses on the [merely] phenomenal and particular,178 which is where error in judgement179 arises. Now when180 Socrates is an image of opinion,181 Phaedrus is one of imagination and Lysias one of sense perception – Lysias in that he spends his

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time in the city and focuses on appearances, Phaedrus in that he has also chosen to walk outside the wall (clearly [meaning] perceptible things) with the book, or182 the impressions (enapomagma)183 of sense perception, in184 his left hand.185 We get from the above that opinion is more akin (oikeioun) to imagination than to sense perception, for it even derives concepts (logoi) from the imagination; for often, when one has seen [a thing], it is by also calling up a mental image [of it] that one has formed an opinion [about it] – even about the thing in front of one; and one forms preconceptions (pronoein) even when sense perception is remote.186 For187 just as, if there had been no Lysias, the fine words that Socrates addresses to Phaedrus would not have been [uttered], so too if there were no sense perception, imagination would not provide opinion with concepts.188 That is how it will be (houtôs) if Socrates is an example of opinion. But if Lysias is (and it will certainly be of the kind that misses the mark), Phaedrus would be [an example] of discursive thought and Socrates of intellect. [In the case of] the former [this would be] because he argues (sullogizesthai)189 the question (to zêtoumenon) by means of (dia) the book and because he ventures outside the wall (of the error associated with perceptible things),190 the language191 suggesting the discursive nature (diexodos) of the syllogism or [the way] one thing follows from another [in it]; [in the case of] the latter [sc. Socrates] because wherever he may be, whether outside or within the perceptible world (ta aisthêta), he still reverts upon himself.192 Reason in fact assigns a three-­fold motion to intellect193: circular, spiral, and straight. (1) [Its motion is] circular when it turns back upon itself of its own accord and grasps (epidrattesthai)194 its surroundings (ta hupokeimena) only at one point (akrothigôs), as a circle does a plane;195 for just as the latter will not be in contact at more than one point, so too intellect, when turning back upon itself, will not be involved in civic affairs. (2) [Its motion is] spiral when (21) it turns to discursive thought and elevates it to its true condition, as Socrates does Phaedrus; for once on a straight course (euthuphoreisthai),196 he [sc. Phaedrus] immediately reverts upon himself. (3) [Its motion is] in a straight line when it carries along opinion too, not taking up residence with it but occupying itself with its concerns (just as Socrates talks about Lysias here), calling into question its [sc. opinion’s] statements and its illogical conclusions

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in the face of (epi) discursive thought (as here [Socrates calls into question Lysias’ views] before (epi) Phaedrus), in order that discursive thought may compare197 the unmediated premisses that intellect looks to with the conclusion of opinion and know whether it has opined correctly or mistakenly. 6. In fact, Socrates [you are just the person to hear Lysias’ speech] (227C3)

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Because Socrates professes to know these three things: (1) the art of love, since he also says of Diotima in the Symposium that it was she who taught me all about love (ta erôtika) (201D5); (2) midwifery, since in the Theaetetus [he says] the god bade me practise midwifery (150C7); and (3) dialectic, since he says198 in the Cratylus ‘The only thing I know is how to give and receive an account’. It is by means of these three forms of knowledge that he benefits the young. 7. [For Lysias’ speech was], I don’t quite know how,199 about love (227C4–5).200 Because it was stated by Lysias that one should gratify the non-­lover, to that extent it is not about love; but to the extent that that was written as a subterfuge (peplasmenôs), and to the extent that [the work] was all about the beloved, it is about love. Or (ê kai)201 [he says] ‘I don’t know’ because love in the sphere of phenomenal beauty is not truly love. [The verb] peirômenon (227C5) is to be understood passively, as equivalent to ‘propositioned by someone’, that is to say, ‘dallied with’ (prospaizein), ‘courted’ (prosballein). Is ingenious (227C7) because everything in the material sphere (ta enula) is [over]-­ingenious and deceptive.202 What is said of the speech203 must be applied to love itself, the subject of the speech, whether this [be] the lofty and uplifting kind or204 the other kind. For this latter kind of passion [sc. the ‘other kind’] is innate to the soul, the reasons for its pull, for its awakening our desiring part, being hidden.205 Pindar too indicates this when he says,‘Secret are wise Persuasion’s keys to sacred loves, and this [is so] among gods and men alike’,206 in this including both the divine and the base love. (22) Particularly appropriate for you (227C3). This [topic] in particular is appropriate for Socrates because of his erotic nature, but, more generally, so is

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listening to any other discourse, for words are nourishment for the soul.207 At any rate, just as it is the business of the doctor in the case of diets to judge (eis krisin) which are harmful and which beneficial, so too, for Socrates, the doctor of souls, is the hearing of discourses [in order to judge] which are true and which deceptive, which elevate the soul and which drag it down. What? Don’t even we know the good ones by ourselves, seeing that even the irrational animals know by themselves not only which are the harmful plants and which are the beneficial ones but even which one is useful for which ailment (pathos) and which condition and at what juncture? Well, in their case there is no rational judgement (krisis logou), only an irrational natural impulse that regulates what is advantageous for the animals [in question], while in our case there is reason and judgement. And where there is a decision there is also error and miscalculation of what is advantageous. And who in any case would put those who have gone wrong back on the right track (epanagein) (they wouldn’t do it themselves), if not those who are well-­positioned (kalôs ekhein) and knowledgeable about such things? And how could mind (nous) hold intercourse with mind or interior discourse (logos) with interior discourse given such extreme density?208 That is why vocalised (prophorikos) speech (logos) was given [to us]. [So] hearing the present speeches in this way209 is appropriate for Socrates.

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8. How good of him! (227C9) Because the hypothesis that one should gratify a non-­lover rather than a lover was paradoxical (for what does the non-­lover even need that one should gratify him?), Socrates says: ‘If he’s absolutely bent on employing hypotheses that are paradoxical and at the same time of general benefit, he’d do better to write that one should gratify a poor man rather than a rich. That [would be] paradoxical too, since people think that one should gratify the rich rather than the poor. Again, since an old man is a more contemptible thing than a young one, he should on that account have included (graphein) the paradoxical position that one should gratify an older man in preference to a younger one – in other words, everything that applies to me, Socrates! For I’m both poor and old. And thus [his] paradoxical hypothesis would have been more beneficial if it had directed the young to me, given that (hos) I am both poor and old. And thus,

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since the rich are more insolent (hubristos) than the poor and the young than the elderly, if he had written210 that one should gratify neither the rich nor the young, who are more insolent, but rather the poor and the elderly, who are more moderate (sôphrôn),211 he would have benefitted the city and the young more.’212 If only (227C9). Socrates says this in a jocular fashion, as though these [ideas] were similarly paradoxical. But such [ideas] don’t seem to be of the same kind as the thesis of Lysias.213 For Lysias says that one should gratify the non-­lover because he is (supposedly) (23) passionless and sane (sôphronein) and not gratify the lover because he is passionate and mad. What Socrates puts forward is not like this but entirely different. Gratifying someone rich or young, which he believes is the received position, is entirely wrong, since the former has the means and the latter the will for every kind of outrage. Anyone who gratifies them is just giving them free rein. And so it is better to gratify the poor man or the older man rather [than them]. Alternatively one should say to this214 that there is a dialectical rule to the effect that the interlocutors [must] contend on the basis of the same positions, either those approved by the wise or those approved by the many – if, that is, they are intending to debate by way of exercise (gumnastikôs) rather than eristically (eristikôs). Since, then, Lysias’ speech seems to run counter to the position approved by the many, Socrates too posits positions that are also of a kind that seems to run counter to the opinion of the many; [for] just as [the view] that one should gratify the lover was an opinion of the many there, so [too] is [the view] [that one should gratify] the rich and the young here. And so it is in criticism of the popular view and with an eye to what is preferable rather than to what is profitable, that Socrates puts forward the above [positions]. Or, differently again: The whole thrust (dunamis) of the speech is directed towards gratifying, ‘for it is always a favour that gives birth to a favour’,215 and the proverb216 has it that ‘gratifying the thankless’ is like ‘anointing a corpse’. So since the poor man when gratified would never return the favour (for he cannot, even if he would often like to), and likewise the old man (for he has no wish too, even if he is often able to), on that account, just as the gratification in Lysias is imperfect because it does not apply (ginesthai) to the lover but to the non-­lover, where there is no return of the favour (antikharis), so too is the

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gratification in Socrates fruitless, since it applies to a poor man or an old one, the former of whom cannot reciprocate the favour and the latter of whom has no wish to. But why does an old man have no wish to reciprocate? Clearly because he does not have a fiery and vigorous disposition. For since a loving (agapêtikos) disposition has its origins in innate heat, it is only to be expected that once that deserts him, the old man’s disposition also becomes less expansive (sustellesthai) and, devoting itself to him [alone], makes him entirely self-­centred (philautos) and tenacious of life (philozôos).217 For it is not implausibly that Euripides’ Talthybius says, (24) ‘I am an old man, but nevertheless I would desire to die.’218 For ‘nevertheless’, being oppositional, represents Talthybius as valuing life highly, like a self-­centred (philautos) old man, for a young man would put it differently, [saying, for example,] ‘I am a young man who loves life (philozôein), but nevertheless I would desire to die.’ And even if219 I did pose the question as to how it is we don’t say ‘the old man cannot reciprocate’ rather than saying ‘he has no wish to’, it is certainly clear that there are two kinds of wishing, just indeed as there are two kinds of capability (dunamis). For just as [one type of] the latter can go either way220 (epamphoterizein) and is linked to the contingent (to endekhomenon), as in ‘I cannot eat’, and the other has reference to the necessary, as in ‘earth cannot be high up’,221 so too is it with wishing. One kind is natural, and is beyond all choice in that it is a vital function that draws a living creature to the object of its appetition, the opposite of which it altogether shuns. It is with regard to this that it has been said ‘he is playing with (khairein) words, but his mind is elsewhere (ekeise)’.222 An instance [of this ‘natural’ kind of wish is] ‘we want to live’, for one who says that he wants to die ‘is playing with words’. The other kind follows a choice in that a judgement has intervened: [for instance,] ‘We want this or that’ or ‘I want to go for a walk’. It is reasonable, then, that just as when we say that the poor man cannot provide [reciprocal] gratification we deny the two kinds of capability [and] not just the one that can go either way, so too, when we say that the old man has no wish to [reciprocate], we should deny not only the type of wish that can go either way, but the natural kind as well, which is a vital function that pushes (parorman) the creature in the direction of what is natural [for it].223

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Socrates is eager to hear (227D2) because he is consumed with a desire to act in a god-­like manner and save the young man. Herodicus of Selymbria224 (227D4) was a doctor and used to do his exercises outside the city wall, beginning at some distance, not great but moderate, from the wall and then returning, and getting his exercise by doing this repeatedly. [He is saying then]: [Even] if you repeatedly do what Herodicus used to do outside the wall, [even going] as far as Megara, I won’t leave you (227D5).

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(25) That Phaedrus engages in pretence and that Lysias is very clever (228A1) and has written the speech over a long period, all of this is again indicative of preoccupation with beautiful things that are material and phenomenal, because leisure time spent on these is hard work. A layman (idiôtês) means as compared to Lysias, and in general a person not partaking of any given skill is a layman in relation to that skill. Phaedrus [does] well in spurning the beauty in matter and sense perception (he means this by gold), and withdrawing [from it] to the beauty in words and loving this, which is more immaterial.225

11. O Phaedrus (228A5) What this reveals is the following. Either (1) that the person who knows and who is in the perfected state also knows the unperfected states. [It’s] as though he were saying ‘if I do not know your state, I have forgotten myself as well’; for, just like the true seer, the wise man will say of other men ‘what words he would come out with’,226 when gold (228A4) or anything of that kind has been proffered. Or (2) that when the erotic person is directed up from phenomenal beauty to himself and the intelligible, if he does not know sensible beauty, he will not recollect himself or intelligible beauty either, but will fail to recognise either himself or it [sc. intelligible beauty]. At any rate, but neither is the case stands for ‘I neither lack knowledge of you nor have I forgotten myself; for I both know the limits (metra) of phenomenal

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beauty and the superiority of psychic and intelligible beauty’. So, when Phaedrus engages in deception, Socrates neatly (emmelôs) exposes him and forces him to be more straightforward (haploos) rather than a bit devious (poikilos). So the fact that Socrates rejects [Phaedrus’] statement and talks as though addressing someone who isn’t present shows that he was not dragged down by phenomenal beauty but entirely belonged to himself and held fast to his own (i.e. intelligible) principles, unscathed by the sensible and the beauty in flesh. Once again, the fact that [Lysias] has heard [the speech] not once but many times reveals the ‘unremitting toil’227 of men in relation to phenomenal beautiful things.

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12. (26) The book (228B2) reveals that sensible beauties are images of images, since writing (grammata) too is in the first place revelatory of the soul and in the second of the utterances (logos) stemming from the soul.228 And since the dog is sacred to Hermes and is the last trace of the Hermaic series229 and the subject under discussion was speeches (Hermes was the overseer (ephoros) of Lysias’ speech), he appropriately (eikotôs) swears by the dog, both, in that [the dog] is the lowest and last of this order, doing this too230 out of reverence, and because through [the dog] he is calling on the presiding (ephoros) deity Hermes. He does not say, ‘If I don’t know Phaedrus, I don’t know myself either’, because not knowing involves external things. [Not knowing] is in fact twofold, one kind, involving negation, which is described as single, the other, involving disposition, which is double, [since it occurs] when someone does not know the very fact that he does not know.231 Here he is denying the kind involving disposition, for he is quite certain (peithesthai) that it is not the case that he does not know Phaedrus. In any case (goun), as was stated,232 not knowing has to do with things that have not yet come to [our] knowledge, while forgetting is a kind of loss and privation of knowledge. [And] certainly (goun), since Socrates knows himself and has such knowledge innately rather than through learning, he would only maintain that he did not know Phaedrus in the event that he had forgotten himself as a result of a collapse (sumptôma) of some

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kind. And so, since his knowledge of himself remains intact, he also knows without a shadow of doubt who Phaedrus is. From a more theoretical perspective (theôrêtikôteron),233 the oracle exhorts ‘know thyself ’, awakening humanity, as it were,234 not in order that it might grasp knowledge of itself that is not [already] present [in human minds], but in order that it might possess [such knowledge] stably and unforgettably. At all events, a person who has not forgotten himself but knows who he is, is a person who will not be ignorant of external things either; whereas a person who is ignorant about external things and who thinks that fleeting things are stable, is a person who has also forgotten himself, [and] does not know the Homeric tag ‘the earth contains nothing feebler than a human being’.235 There has been conversion by negation, starting with the negation. I (egô; 228A5) is demanding of attention and forceful, [as in] ‘I, Socrates, a wise man on the testimony of a god.’236 13. First showing (228D6)

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Actually, he [sc. Socrates] wants to do away with all of his [sc. Phaedrus’] deception and bring (27) his whole life into the open in order to save him. Initially, he [sc. Phaedrus] pretended that he couldn’t remember anything at all; then, just now, that he could only report the gist (dianoia) but not the actual words; finally he is at last compelled to put the book itself on open display. In the left hand, then, shows that such rhetoric [sc. Lysias’ kind] is directed to the inferior part of the soul, I mean the affective part, and does not have to do with the pure and highest part of the rational soul, that is, the intellect, but with the opinionative and imaging (phantastikos) part.237 Under your cloak (228D7) because it is in obscurity and has fallen from the light of knowledge; for such rhetoric is concerned with matters of mere opinion, with the enmattered, and with human trivialities. 14. That I [very much love] you (228D8) Socrates wants Lysias himself to be the one who is put to the question in order that his assistance to the young man will be more effective. And it is shown by this that, while Socrates also delights in the beauty of the sensible [realm]

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inasmuch as it carries the image of beauty itself, in the presence of a more immaterial and higher beauty he will not value the beauty in sensible things more highly than the beauty in speeches.238 The fact that they want to sit to read [the speech] shows the lowliness of the activity – that they are not going to be spending their time on serious, lofty and elevated (egeirein) matters but on emptier things (in fact on the examination of Lysias’ speech). 15. Turning off here (229A1) The ancients239 were accustomed to liken a river to generation. Accordingly, turning off along the Ilissus stands for ‘rising above [the realm of] generation, let us thus contemplate phenomenal beauty, without immersing ourselves in it [sc. generation] or plumbing its depths at all’. Unshod indicates the relaxed attitude and straightforwardness and the readiness for elevation that in Socrates’ case were always present and in Phaedrus’ case [were present] at that time because he was about to be initiated by Socrates. Moreover summer and midday are suited to elevation according to Heraclitus too, who says,240 ‘dry beam, wisest soul’. To wet their feet in the water241 means for their whole being, rising above generation, to contact generation [only] with the last or ground-­level (peripezios) faculties of the soul (as (28) ‘feet’ shows), that is, with the rational soul contemplating generation from above.

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16. Do you see that [very tall plane tree?] (229A8) He praises this place, that is to say, the physical (phusikos) beauty of nature (phusis) [emanating] from the trees, the breeze, and the grass. For the moment he has included (lambanein) the extremes, the very tall plane tree and the lowest thing, the grass.242 In what follows he will also include the mean, the chaste tree. The shade and the breeze indicate the resting-­places. You can also take the breeze (pneuma) as the providential inspiration of the gods; and the shade for the intelligible and unseen and the elevating power that leads [us] up beyond the perceptible or what impinges (plêktikos) [on our senses] (for this is what light signifies here).243

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17. Tell me, Socrates (229B4) 15

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One could produce a double analysis of this myth. One analysis, based on history, would be more on the ethical level (êthikôteros), the other analysis one would transfer to the [realm of] wholes.244 The first goes like this. Orithyia was born a daughter of Erechtheus and she became a priestess of Boreas. (There is a presiding god for each of the winds and a rite venerating each of them.)245 Now this Orithyia was so much in the favour of the god that he would blow in a manner that ensured (epi) the prosperity of the land; and moreover he is even said to have aided246 the Athenians in their naval battles.247 Be that as it may, having becoming inspired and possessed by her god Boreas and no longer behaving in a human manner (for living creatures no longer behave in their normal manner when possessed by the higher causes) and having died in [the throes of] possession, she was said to have been snatched by Boreas. That, then, is the more ethical explanation of the myth. The second [analysis], the one that transfers the tale (logos) to the [realm] of wholes, goes something like this. (It in no wise nullifies the first [version], since divine myths have often made use of actual events and accounts (historia) [of such] to teach about the [realm of] wholes.) They say, then, that Erechtheus is the god presiding over the three levels (to tristoikhon) of air, water, and earth (sometimes they also say only over earth, and sometimes that he has been allotted just Athens), [and] Orithyia is (29) his daughter. She, for her part, is the productive (gonimos) power of the earth, in other words, [her influence is] coextensive with Erechtheus’ allotted realm.248 In fact the derivation (anaptuxis) of her name indicates this, for ‘she who thrives according to the seasons’249 (that is, she who springs up [according to the seasons]) is a productive power of the earth. And Boreas is the providence of the gods that shines upon the secondary things from above. They illustrate the providence of the gods towards the cosmos by means of Boreas because Boreas too blows from high quarters,250 and the elevating power of the gods by means of Notus because he blows from the low regions to the high. (The [powers]251 on Notus’ side are the more divine.) The providence of the gods, then, causes the procreative power of the earth, or of Attica, to retreat or to emerge into the open. Tell me, [Socrates]. The poets devised choruses for filling up gaps [in the action] and since it has introduced Socrates in the process of leading Phaedrus

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to the threshold of initiation, the narrative at this point does not want to divert his [sc. Phaedrus’] attention to anything else until they have reached the place [of initiation] (for once he is on the road to initiation, it [sc. the narrative] wants to keep him there),252 for which reason he [sc. Phaedrus] meanwhile becomes inquisitive and desires to learn some theory (theôria)253 appropriate to the present [dramatic] situation (hupothesis). For ‘Orithyia’ (Ôreithuia) would be a soul desiring the things on high (ta anô) – [the name is] from orouô [‘rush towards’] and thuô [‘desire eagerly’] with Attic lengthening.254 Now such a soul is snatched by Boreas blowing down from on high. And if it is also carried down from a cliff, that too is appropriate (harmodios). For it dies the voluntary (proairetikos) death, not undergoing a natural one, and puts aside the voluntary life, living the natural one; and philosophy is nothing other than training (meletê) for death.255 So let Orithyia also be the soul of Phaedrus, and Socrates be Boreas, snatching him and carrying him down to the voluntary death. (I said ‘carrying him down’ and not ‘carrying him up’ because unless a soul were extraordinarily debased it would not admit of being carried up.) 18. Where [we cross] to the [sanctuary] of [Artemis] the Huntress (Agra) (229C2) The Athenians established a sanctuary of Artemis of the Chase (Agraios) because this goddess presides over everything that is wild (agrios) and keeps everything wild and untamed in check. The altars and sanctuaries of the gods indicate their assigned spheres (lêxis) so that you might even call this visible (phainomenos) body of the sun the altar and sanctuary of the Sun on the ground that this encosmic body [of his] partakes most of him and has the benefit of the intelligible sun and of his (30) soul, just as [you would say that] the sanctuaries of the gods [down] here contain the assigned spheres and irradiations of the gods themselves.256 She [sc. Artemis] would be the intellectual contemplation (theôria) that hunts out the universal by way of particulars and being by way of seeming; as Pindar somewhere said, ‘thought the huntress (agroteros)’,257 that is to say, ‘that hunts out (agreutikos) fine things’. And it is intellect that is the sanctuary of this [intellectual] contemplation. He says ‘we cross to the sanctuary’, then, as tantamount to ‘[we go] by way of perceptible things to that which is unified’.

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19. But if I disbelieved (229C6) 15

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From this some have thought that Socrates did not approve of interpretations of myths, but [such people] have not considered the matter properly.258 In fact in many places he clearly approves of myths and makes use of them [himself]. However, he does here (nun) criticise those who interpret them in terms of historical events or probabilities (eikotologia), or material causes [such as] exhalations and earth and winds, and do not analyse them in terms of things with [real] being or accommodate their interpretations to the divine realities. Which is what he is saying now [when he says] that ‘If, in interpreting this myth, I were to resort to physical causes and say that when Orithyia was at play the wind Boreas gusted strongly and blew (ôthein) her down from the rocks and that, having died in this way, she was said to have been carried off by Boreas, wouldn’t I quite rightly be thought ridiculous?’259 For this interpretation – the kind of interpretation the scientists (sophos), that is, those who have occupied themselves with natural phenomena, produce – is dubious (gliskhros) and mere conjecture (eikotologia). They do not have recourse to truly real things but to natural phenomena (phuseis) and winds and exhalations and vortices, as [Plato] said260 in the Phaedo. So he reproaches these natural scientists and people who interpret [myths] along these lines for tumbling into the boundless and unlimited261 and for failing to have recourse to soul and intellect and gods. Of a clever and industrious and not entirely fortunate person has reference to spending time on sensible and material things. As for the Centaurs, Gorgons, and Pegasuses, all these are set over the enmattered sphere and the terrestrial (peri gên) region. According to probability indicates that their explanations are not the product of intellect but based on appearance and (31) probability, which is why he has called it262 a crude science as being unscholarly and unintelligent (ou noeros).

20. I cannot yet [know myself] (229E5) So doesn’t Socrates know himself? But who else knows himself as Socrates does?263 Well, this can be taken in two ways. Either ‘I don’t know myself in the way that the god264 himself does and in the way the Delphic inscription itself

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[enjoins]’, or ‘I do not yet know myself as a pure, absolute soul; I am still embodied (en sômati), and while I do know myself qua embodied, I do not yet know myself qua absolute soul’. So either ‘I do not yet know myself as the god does’, or ‘[I do not yet know myself] qua absolute soul’.

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22. whether [I am] some kind of beast (230A3) For it is clear that the person who knows himself knows all things; for he will see all things in himself.266 Typhon because this god governs the discordant and unordered. The nature of his allotment is this: always well-­ordered among the wholes,267 except when it shows itself by way of (kata) certain [of its] parts, in which case (entha dê) people are in the habit of talking of Typhoons or of Typhonic hurricanes or thunderbolts.268 Now everything in the soul is similar (analogon) [to this], and in the case of the particular soul especially the [makeup] of one that does evil. So, having referred to it269 first, since he is functioning in the purificatory mode (eidos), he also mentions the rational [soul] by way of [the words] ‘simple’, ‘gentle’, and ‘divine’ (230A5). More complex should not be understood of the god himself but of that over which he presides as moving in a discordant, disorderly, and complex fashion of its own nature. Myths habitually refer the properties (pathos) of the recipients of providential care to the agencies that provide that care.270

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24. By Hera (230B2)271 He mentions Hera as the one who generates and orders272 the beauty (32) of the creation. It is for this reason that she receives the girdle from Aphrodite.273

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He does not praise the place in emulation of Phaedrus,274 as Harpocration275 suggests, but his compliments are genuine. First he praises the place in terms of the three elements air, water, and earth. Then he divides the plants [that grow] from the earth into three, into those that are first, those that are in the middle (mesos), and those that are last – that is, those that are high, those that are middling (mesos), and those that are lowest; for this is what the plane tree, the chaste tree (which is shrubby), and the grasses signify. And he shows that [in this spot] delight holds sway over all the senses with the exception of taste. Achelous is the god presiding over the potable aspect (dunamis) of water;276 for it is by means of this greatest of rivers that they refer to the presiding god of potable water.277 The Nymphs are the goddesses who preside over rebirth as assistants of the Dionysus who springs from Semele. Hence they are beside the water; that is, they have entered [the realm of] generation. This Dionysus rules over the rebirth of all that is perceptible.278 25.

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Is in full bloom (230B4–5) shows that Phaedrus too will be ready for elevation (anagôgê) with Socrates as guide (anagein). The foot that is wetted by the water shows once more279 that Socrates’ soul [only] makes contact with [the realm of] generation with its lowest faculties. The possibility of lying with the head slightly elevated shows that the intellectual part (to noeron) of Socrates reaches up from matter and generation. He listens in a recumbent posture because he is descending from his own intellective activity to the scrutiny of Lysias’ words and [so] will be busying himself with more shallow (koiloteros)280 and lowly matters. The city and the fact that Socrates never leaves the city show that he is always attached to his own origins and causes and to the intelligible gods that are particular to him (oikeios heautou); for the true native land of souls is the intelligible cosmos, [and] therefore learning is not [got] from the enmattered and tangible (antitupos) (which is what the fields and trees indicate) but from rational and intellective souls and intellect itself. And the fact that Socrates follows Phaedrus and the book (which is an (33) image of images) show his

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godlike providential activity in relation to young men and his wish to save them. He listens in a recumbent posture because he is for the moment busying himself with shallower matters.281 After all, postures should be rendered appropriately to situations. Thus, for instance, in the palinode he will deliver his words on the subject of inspired and divine love standing upright and with a bare head (243B6). Since, then, he is about to spend time on a rather shallow recitation of words, he listens in a recumbent posture, adapting his visible (phainomenos) posture to the words, just as in the Phaedo ‘Socrates got up (anakathizomenos) from (ek) the bed’282 when he was about to make his observations about the philosopher.

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26. About my [affairs] (230E6) This is again an appropriate time for a division, [this time] that of love.283 Now some have supposed that to love is an altogether bad (phaulos) thing, as did Epicurus, who defined it as ‘an intense desire for sexual intercourse (aphrodisia) accompanied by arousal and discomfort’,284 and the person who said285 ‘with a full belly Cypris waxes’ – and [then], ‘Haven’t you ever been in love, Geta?’, he asks. ‘No, I haven’t [ever] been full’, he replies.286 Others, like Heraclides, [think it] an entirely good (asteios) thing and say that love is [properly] a part of friendship (philia) and not of anything else, although some people incidentally slip into sexual intercourse.287 The Stoics288 were previously said to consider the thing [in question] simple, but now I have heard of them that they too say that (34) love is twofold, one kind good (asteios), the other bad 289 desire and yearning for intercourse according to Pausanias290 and the tragedian who said ‘You blow two [different] winds, Love’.291 Aristotle says292 that love is a passion293 [affecting] the whole soul and when reason is in control it is part of friendship, but when the passion is, it is linked with sexual intercourse. Of Plato’s opinion we talked earlier.294 Lysias here counts love as an unqualifiedly bad thing and consequently vilifies lovers, claiming that they are in a bad way (en kakôi einai)295 and that one should avoid contact with them and prefer the companionship of non-­ lovers. His speech proceeds by way of the following considerations (epikheirêma).296 First, he says that those who were [formerly] in love297 regret

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(231A2) the good things they did for the beloved once they lose physical desire [for them] (231A3). Second, that they take into account the troubles (231B4) they’ve gone to during the love [affair] and the times they’ve neglected their personal affairs and think that they’ve adequately recompensed their beloveds (231B1–2) [for their favours] by way of these. Third, that since they say that they love those they [currently] love more than anyone else, which is to say, [more than] their previous beloveds, they will treat [these latter] badly on account of their later [loves]. Fourth, that they themselves admit that they are sick and not in their right minds (231D2–3). Fifth, that if one ought to choose those who will make better friends, the choice is wider among those who don’t love [you], since there are more of them, and more difficult among those who do love [you] (231D6), because there are fewer. Sixth, that those who fear disgrace should avoid the lovers (232A1), since they brag to the rest to show their efforts haven’t been in vain. Seventh, that they [sc. lovers] behave298 in such a way that outsiders come to suspect that their desire has been fulfilled, or soon will be. Eighth, that they discourage [you] from relations with others (232C5) for fear that they’ll be outshone. Ninth, that it is people who don’t know your character (232E4) but [only] desire your body who are looking for a boyfriend.299 Hence they are [always] ready for a change. Tenth, that (35) they praise and find fault inappropriately, rating some things incorrectly because of their sickness and others for fear of incurring dislike (233A7). Next he answers a number of possible objections [to his position], one of which is that a lasting friendship cannot exist without [sexual] love. He answers this with the observation that [people have] lasting friendships with their fathers, their brothers, and their peers that don’t involve love. A second is that one should sooner give oneself to those that are in need (233D5) than to those who are not. To this it is objected that on that basis we would give meals and banquets to those who ask for them and not to those who deserve them. Third, is whether one should gratify all non-­lovers (234B6–7) in common. Even lovers, he says, don’t approve of this if it involves giving yourself to all those who love [you]. Last, as the clincher, [he argues] that even their relatives criticise lovers for their bad behaviour (234B2–3) but nobody finds fault with non-­lovers. Such are his arguments. First, Plato censures his disorderliness in that he proceeds [as though swimming] on his back or the wrong way round (anapalin) (264A5);300 next, the

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want of coherence in the arguments in that their arrangement involves no [logical] necessity (264B4) whereby any one thing is placed after any other; also that he has said what is commonplace (koinos) and available to everyone, [namely] that the one party is sick, the other of sound mind (231D2–3); then, that he has said the same things two or three times (235A4); then, that even [these repetitious ramblings] haven’t said what might have been said. We too shall subject each of these [failings] to the same301 scrutiny; and in addition, we shall show that he has said things that contradict himself or his own hypothesis or that are contrary to historical fact and false. One should be aware that this speech is Lysias’ own and that this very letter302 passes for genuine among his letters. He [sc. Lysias] wants to remind Phaedrus of the things he said to him face to face in his absence too.

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27. Because they then regret the good things they have done (231A2) This, the argument at the very beginning, is the first [example] of disorderliness. Without having told us what the lover is like while still in love, he tells us the person (tis) he is when he stops loving; ‘he has’, one might say, put the feet in front and the head behind.303 As Plato (36) himself said (264C2 ff.), a speech should resemble an animal. And what kind of animal would it be that had its bottom parts on top and its top parts on the bottom? Next, a bit further on he will repeat the very thing he has just said. For having said here that they regret [the good things they have done for them] once they lose their desire [for them] (231A2–3) he will straightaway say and so it is unclear whether they will still be their friends when they lose their desire [for them] (232E5–6), even using the same words for want of a decent vocabulary. And he says the very same thing again for a third time in the recapitulation.304 Plato himself has made these points. But you can also say that it is a contradiction, since he more or less admits that lovers treat their beloveds well and do them favours even beyond their actual means.

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28. Furthermore, those who are in love look to [where their interests have suffered] (231A6) This too is out of order. To be properly positioned, it should be placed, if anywhere, before the previous point. The [lovers] should calculate the actual

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troubles [they have gone to] and only then stop being friendly, changing their attitude because of what they have been through. So, with these things in mind, Socrates said that Lysias’ arguments had been expressed haphazardly (264B3) and in no cogent order, but instead were no different from Midas’ epitaph (264C8).305 29. In addition, if [lovers] deserve [to be valued] for this (231B7)

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This argument [too] is out of order. He should, if anything, have started with this since he should have started with the more important [point]. After all, in this passage he says that [lovers] not only will not be one’s friends but will even treat one badly. And in addition to this he is also making an incompatible statement, for he also says that lovers gratify those they love (231C3–4) by words and deeds and in every [possible] way and treat everyone else badly should those they love decree it. 30. For they themselves admit that they are sick and not in their right minds (231D2)

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This is a commonplace and could be said by anyone; and it is just tossed in at random by this person [sc. Lysias] and doesn’t stand in an appropriate place. It should have been stated earlier, in the way that Plato will [first] show that the lover is sick and, having stated this first, [only] then add the (37) rest. For he will say: To a sick person whatever does not resist him is pleasurable, but [anything] stronger or [even] equal [in strength] is hateful (238E4–5). 31. So how, [when they have come back to their senses, could they regard the things that they decided to do in that state as things that were done well]? (231D4)

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And this is identical to the second [argument],306 where he said [that lovers] take into account the troubles [they have gone to] and their neglect of their own affairs and think that they have long since shown proper gratitude (231B1) [for favours received]. And it is also the same as [the argument about their] changing [their] attitude.

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32. Another point [if you select a companion from among those who are not in love with you, you have a greater number to choose from] (231D6) This – [sc.] looking to the larger group rather than the smaller when choosing someone – is really ridiculous. One would have to select a doctor from among non-­doctors or a builder or a musician from among those who are ignorant of the musical arts (Mousai)307 or of building. The entire argument is fallacious and utterly ridiculous. Hence Plato will not even make use of it in his own speech. [It would mean that] people in need of a rhetorician would have to make their choice from among the sweepings of the street.

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33. Now if [you are worried about] propriety (nomos) (231E3) He says the convention (nomos) was such that the gratification [of a lover] was regarded as shameful. In the first place, this is contrary to historical fact. And furthermore, it also involves a contradiction. After all, if the gratification [of a lover] is shameful according to convention, then one should not gratify anyone, neither the lover nor the non-­lover, for what is shameful ought not to be done or even talked about with anyone. That [the idea that granting sexual favours was regarded as shameful] is [indeed] contrary to historical fact may be learned from the following. Among the Athenians it was permissible to be in love and there were altars and statues of Eros and Anteros, and as a result graffiti (epigramma) by people praising love were inscribed on the statues, and the long race at the Panathenaia actually began from the altar of Eros. For it was from here that the young men ran after kindling their torches, and the fire for the sacrificial rites of the goddess was lit by the torch of the winner.308 Also, a couple would (38) declare their love in public. Thus when Epichares was in love he publicly stated that Eudemus was good looking. [Then] Kleinomachus, who was [also] in love, said ‘Everything else the same as Epichares, but Timomachus is better looking’. And when Aeschines was prosecuting Timarchus for prostitution, he said: ‘I do not deny that I have been a lover and that I still am, and I confess that the enmities that arise from an affair have arisen for me too. But I characterise (horizesthai) loving those who are beautiful and chaste as the passion of a kind-­hearted disposition and a considerate soul and hiring someone for money and engaging

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in outrageous acts as the action of a wanton and ill-­bred man’.309 And Solon indicated in [his] laws the distance at which the lover must follow the beloved, and kept a close eye on behaviour in the interest of the free, preventing a slave from ‘having a love affair’ (eran) or ‘rubbing himself dry with oil’310 [after exercise] – and likewise someone who had avoided military service (astrateutos), or had deserted the ranks, or who had neither supported nor buried his parents, or who had betrayed a fortress. And in his poems he refers to loving as a fine thing, saying: Blest is the man who possesses beloved311 boys and horses with uncloven hooves, and hunting dogs and guests from far flung-­lands.312

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Dear to me now are the works of Cyprus-­born [sc. Aphrodite] and of Dionysus and of the Muses, which bring good cheer (euphrosunê) to men.313

And what might be said of the Cretans, or Spartans, or Boeotians, or the rest of the Greeks on the subject of their attitudes to love would take too long to tell. You would with reason be more afraid of the lovers, for there are many things that annoy (39) them (232C2–3). This is in fact what ought to have been said earlier, for it describes what the lover is like when he is [still] in love, while what was said earlier describes what he is like after finishing with love.

34. And of course many lovers [desire the beloved’s body] prior [to getting to know his character] (232E3) This is just false. Those who are in love are above all looking for friendship. And nobody is looking for friendship if he has no wish to discover the character of those with whom the friendship is to exist. . . .314 5

35. Daemonically (234D1)315 Equivalent to ‘supernaturally’ because the beauty in speeches is above nature and sensible beauty since it is more immaterial and purer than the beauty in nature.316 Socrates uses the term daemonically because he is amazed (ekplêssein) at the villainy, deceitfulness, and concealment of the sophist [sc. Lysias]. But

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the term daemonically could signify many things. First, since the daemons come second317 after the gods, it might signify that the rhetorician has spoken in a manner that is not divine and well-­informed, but inferior and secondary. It might also signify that he has spoken in a middling (mesôs) manner, for the daemonic is midway between gods and humans.318 And then the daemonic is the first [level] to participate in both good and bad,319 for neither gods nor angels do. So [daemonically] shows that the speech of Lysias has a good aspect and a bad: it [sc. the speech] revealed [both] a good that is manifest (phainomenos) ([sc.] its composition at the verbal level (tôn rhêmatôn)) and an evil that is concealed ([sc.] his licentious desire).320 And then too Love was called a ‘great daemon’ in the Symposium.321 And also [daemonically] shows that he has grasped beauty dividedly (memerismenôs) and not as a unity (hênômenôs) or a single entity (heniaiôs); for to divide (merisasthai) is to distribute (daisasthai).322 Such, then, are the things that the word daemonically might indicate to us. So much so that I was amazed (234D1) on the one hand points to the desperate wickedness (aponoia)323 of the sophist in that he was pretending not to be in love when he was, because of which Socrates is amazed at his desperate wickedness and villainy. From a contemplative standpoint, on the other hand, one might say that it shows that Socrates is amazed at even the uttermost traces of beauty because they contain an image of the beautiful-­itself and things that beauty dwells in (katekhein) are beautiful – (40) which was the case with Lysias’ verbal composition. Thinking that you understand more about it than me (234D4) shows that Phaedrus is more engrossed in phenomenal beauty. I followed you (234D5) is equivalent to ‘I took thought for you’ and I joined [you] in Bacchic revelry to ‘I operated dividedly (memerismenôs)’ (for the Bacchantes are overseers of the creation of particulars (merikos)), [which is in turn] equivalent to ‘I also underwent division along with you on account of Lysias’ speech and descended from myself ’.324 Divine head (234D6)325 connotes the highest part of him, or the one of the soul,326 in the area of which (peri ho) divine inspiration occurs. To make fun (paizein) (234D8) refers to Socrates’ activity in relation to the speech. The sensible cosmos is similarly said to be a plaything (paidia) for the gods.327 This is because, relative to their primary activities, those that relate to their own

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causes, the sensible cosmos is a plaything, although it does retain a serious aspect (spoudê) inasmuch as it is the very best possible. Socrates is in the same position [as them] with regard to the study (theôria) of Lysias’ speech. He is descending from the intellective contemplation (theôria) of himself328 to undertake the examination of the speech and for that reason he too seems to be at play (paizein). But, to the extent that he is saving the young man and putting him back on the right path, he also seems to be in earnest (spoudazein). 10

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36. Tell me truly, in the name of Zeus [god] of friendship (philios) (234E1–2) Not all [of his] names refer to Zeus qua monad,329 for Zeus is also called [the god] of friendship, of strangers, and of property (ktêsios), while others have split off (merizein) others of his powers. For instance both a daemon and a god of strangers are spoken of: ‘each person’s daemon of strangers’, he [sc. Plato] says in the Laws, ‘the follower of (sunepomenos) [Zeus the god] of strangers’.330 And the same goes for a ‘daemon of friendship’. Only now (entautha) has Phaedrus addressed Socrates as ‘dear’ (philios) [to him] because he is from now on (loipon) going to turn to him.331 37. What he was bound to (234E6)

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He says what he was bound to (ta deonta)332 as equivalent to ‘what was good (ta agatha)’. For the Good is binding (deon) [and] as a result binds (desmein) whatever it takes hold of; for the Good, that is to say, the One, gives a measure of unity (henôsis) to everything. But where did Phaedrus say that the rhetorician has said what he was bound to, for Socrates has reacted (khrêsthai) as though he did? It is because he [sc. Phaedrus] has said no Greek has it within his power to say anything more exhaustive and more impressive [on the subject] (234E2–3), and someone who has nothing (41) more exhaustive and more impressive to say has said what he was bound to, that Socrates has reacted in this way.333 He [Socrates] calls the rhetorician a ‘composer’ (poiêtês) (234E6) in the more generic sense (koinoteron), for he [sc. a rhetorician] also ‘composes’ (poiein) [his] speeches.334

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By saying clear, concise, and well-­rounded (234E7–8) he indicates that the speech has a beauty that is phenomenal and sensible, but not one that is eternal (aei on), incorporeal, pure, and intelligible: ‘clear’ connotes what is manifest and easily grasped by perception, ‘concise’ what is structured and circumscribed, ‘well-­rounded’ what is resistant and unyielding. By these [words], then, he shows that the speech has what beauty the sensible and enmattered may have, but that Lysias does not know the intangible beauty, that is to say, [the beauty] which is intelligible and grasped by intellect alone, [the beauty] which is shapeless and colourless, [the beauty] which is incorporeal and intangible (cf. 247C6).

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38. Since it eluded (elathe) me (234E9) Did it [really] elude Socrates? Or is he pretending with his customary irony and [just] saying it eluded me? What ‘eluding’ (to elathe) signifies in [the writings of] the Theologians is functioning in accordance with one’s own individual nature (idiotês) and not in cooperation with (sumpnoia) higher causes. For instance, the gods’ having sexual intercourse

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indicates [that they are] functioning in accordance with their own being and individual nature without reaching up (anateinesthai) to their own causes or receiving strength from that source. So Socrates will be saying ‘although by his own lights (kath’ heauton) Lysias composed his speech as best he was able, it passed me by because I was engaged with higher things. [Socrates’] Vacancy (oudenia) (235A1) [in this regard] indicates not weakness but superiority of power, for that which has the power to be active in relation to intelligible things has an incapacity for attending to sensible things. This latter power, the power that is concerned with enmattered things, is [merely] apparent (phainomenos), just as the power of the tyrant is also said to be [merely] apparent. [True] power [rests with] the good and best.336

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39. At this point I [can] no longer [go along with you] (235B6) At the outset, Phaedrus said that no one among the Greeks (234E3) would [be capable of] saying such [wonderful] things. From one perspective (to men)

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Socrates was in complete disagreement, from another (to de) he partly (42) agreed and partly disagreed. He agreed that what he had said was clear and concise and well-­rounded (234E7), but that he had said what he was bound to he at first absolutely denied and then conceded to please Phaedrus. So he in part agreed, but in part did not. And since Phaedrus has now said that no one at all will ever be able to say anything additional on the subject, Socrates for this reason no longer agrees with him. After all, Lysias has not spoken better than everyone else, for he is entirely ignorant of psychic (psukhikos)337 and chaste love. 40. For ancient and wise [writers, both men and women] (235B7)

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Before saying what [this] psychic and chaste love is he wants in the first place to show him [sc. Phaedrus] on the level of opinion (doxastikôs)338 that there is such chaste and decorous (kosmios) love. He cites (paragein) [the examples of] Sappho and Anacreon, who out of [the store of] concepts (logos)339 essentially (kat’ ousian)340 present from eternity from the Demiurge in their souls, advanced (proballein)341 them342 into activity (kat’ energeian) [and thus] set their own lives in order. Since, then, the theologians divide the gods into male and female, and since some souls are akin to (prosêkein) the one group of gods and some to the other (as he [sc. Plato] also said in Aristophanes’ speech in the Symposium343), on this account he [sc. Socrates] has used Sappho and Anacreon [as examples], the former being like the female [divinities], the latter the male. Ancient signifies what is eternal and prior to all time (he [similarly] says in the Phaedo ‘there is a certain ancient tale (logos)’344), because chaste love is present in souls from eternity. Phaedrus, because he is habituated to (suntrephein) sense perception and to individual things, asks: Who are these people, and where [have you heard anything better than what Lysias said]? (235C1). But Socrates, knowing that such an essential feature (ousia) and power of the soul (one like the present (teôs) middle-­level (mesos) [kind of] love, [i.e.] psychic and chaste love)345 is prior to all time, says I can’t at present tell you off-­hand (235C2), for it is not possible to specify a time from which we have possessed these things. Hence too Alcibiades is unable to state a time at which he learnt what things are just346

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because the soul has received [knowledge of] these things from eternity prior to all time from the Demiurge. Since he says later on (en tês hexês) that the divine is entirely beautiful, wise, and good (246D8–9), and [since] the ascent (anagôgê) of all things toward the One or the Good takes place through the beautiful and the wise (to sophon), that is to say, through the art of love (erôtikê) and through philosophy (for the wise signifies the cognitive aspect (to gnôstikon) of the gods, just as the beautiful does their beauty), on that account he has said Sappho the (43) beautiful or Anacreon the wise (235C3–4). And perhaps he has called Sappho beautiful because she occupied herself with encomia and hymns to Aphrodite in particular and Aphrodite is the guardian goddess of beauty and makes beauty shine on all things. Anacreon for his part is wise as being philosophical and learned. All men are all things,347 but he outshines [others] in this [regard]. All these poets praised the chaste kind of love. 41. Somehow, my daemonic friend, [my breast (stêthos) is full] (235C5)

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Is thinking [then] no longer (ouketi) [based] in the brain?348 Actually, what he is intimating is this. Since Socrates has periods of inspired activity (energeia enthousiastikê) of the highest kind, of the middle-­level kind and of the lowest kind, he indicates the lowest kind by means of the feet (to judge by my foot (230B7)), the middle-­level, or psychic, kind by means of the chest (stêthos) [as here], and the intellective and divine by means of the head (along with 10 your divine head (234D6),349 he says, and further on, raised the head of the charioteer up into the place outside [the heavens] (248A1–2)). Since, then, Socrates now intends to be active in relation to psychic love, the chaste [kind of love] and that of the soul itself, on this account he has said that he has a breast full of such concepts (logos), thereby presenting the middle 15 [kind] (to meson) of love by means of the middle part of the body [sc. the chest]. He does not believe that Anacreon and Sappho practised either the highest and elevating and inspired [kind of] love or the fallen and licentious kind, but that they zealously pursued the middle-­level kind, the kind that is chaste and decorous and sets the soul itself in its entirety and the whole person 20 (anthrôpos) in order. Hence Socrates himself says that he has received these things from an external source and is not putting them forth from the highest

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part of his own being (ousia), for his own activity is of the inspired and elevating kind. The ignorance [that Socrates professes (235C8)] again means, as did the vacancy (235A1),350 the kind superior to learning, and his [mental] slowness (nôtheia) (235D2) is superior to this [earthly] perceptual understanding (aisthêtê gnôsis) and his having forgotten (235D2) signifies that it is not possible to state a time from which we have had351 the knowledge of these things.352 [He says] [I] have been filled like an empty jar (235D1) because, as was [just] stated, as compared to his elevating and inspired activity, which occurs in the highest part of his soul, what he is about to say in praise of chaste love seems [extraneously] acquired and foreign to him. (44) 42. And I [promise] you (235D8) What is meant is as follows. At Athens, the nine archons – the Polemarch, the King, the Eponymous Archon of the year, and the Thesmothetai – took an oath each year upon appointment to do nothing wrongful (para to orthon). And if it turned out that they were caught out [in some wrong-­doing] they would [have to] send a golden image (eikôn) to Apollo at Delphi by way of a fine for the archon [involved] and as a thank-­offering to the god from the city.353 Through this [then] he is saying in an enigmatic fashion: ‘If you deliver for me another [speech] more beautiful than Lysias’ speech, I shall fasten the entire imaged (eikonikos) and visible beauty of the cosmos to the sphere of the sun’; for Delphi and the Pythia are a symbol354 of the sphere of the sun.355 This, then, shows that that which is receptive to ordering (viz. that which is in irregular motion),356 reaching up to the bestower (khorêgos) of beauty (who is the King Helios (ho basileus Hêlios)357 [sc. the sun], in whom Apollo is also present),358 receives order from that source. For the whole of [the realm of] generation, or the sensible cosmos, which is an image of the intelligible [cosmos], is made beautiful and is illuminated by Lord Helios (ho despotês Hêlios). Life-­sized (isometrêtos)359 because visible and imaged beauty bears a certain resemblance to intelligible [beauty] and is, as it were, equal (isos) to it360 by analogy (kata analogian), since it is not entirely severed from it.

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43. It is not the discovery [but the arrangement] of such things [that is to be praised] (236A3–4) He says such [arguments] (236A2) and such [things] (236A3) of the necessary content (ta anankaia) [that an author] cannot do without. For there are these three [types of thing]: those that are necessary, those that are choice-­worthy (hairetos),361 and those that are to be avoided. The things that are to be avoided we do not want. We want to discover the things that are choice-­worthy, and having discovered them, use them as one should (deontôs). The necessary things we have of necessity and cannot not want them. Hence we do not censure the person who has them but rather the person who uses them badly or the bad disposition of them, as is the case with food. That which is beneficial to ourselves, that is to say, that which is choice-­worthy, we both want to discover and to make good use of. We greatly praise the person who is able to do this in difficult and irksome circumstances, just indeed as we roundly condemn those who either fail to discover them or who, having discovered them, make bad use of them. ‘Therefore it is necessary for me, for Lysias,362 and (45) for anyone else to say that the person whose love is of the licentious kind is mad, while the person who is not in love is of sound mind.’363 But Socrates and Lysias do not say this in the same way, and nor do they deliver their speeches364 with the same motivation (diathesis).365

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44. Beside the [offering] of the Cypselids366 (236B3) The historical facts are as follows. Cypselus was the father of Periander, whose sons, when tyrants at Corinth, were deposed from the tyranny by the Corinthians. [These] sons of Periander, son of Cypselus, therefore made a vow to Zeus in Olympia that should they regain the tyranny they would dedicate a beaten gold statue (andrias) to Zeus, and when they did come [back] to power [duly] set up a huge golden statue (agalma) of Zeus.367 What then does it mean for Phaedrus that he was previously going to set up a likeness of Socrates in Delphi but now a beaten metal statue of Socrates for Zeus? The appropriate reply is this. The creation is twofold, the invisible and the visible. Helios is in charge of the visible one, Zeus of the invisible one.368 Earlier

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Phaedrus said: ‘If you perform for me a speech better than Lysias’, I will fasten the entire visible beauty of the sensible cosmos – which is what the likeness of Socrates signifies, since sensible beauty is also a likeness of intelligible [beauty] since the cosmos itself is – to Helios, the ruler of the cosmos and of all sensible beauty.’369 But now [he says]: ‘I will dedicate your very soul’ – viz. the true Socrates; and he signifies the entire essence (ousia) of [his] soul through the beaten metal statue in that it is gold throughout – ‘and I will send it up to Zeus, the ruler of the intelligible cosmos370 and of the invisible creation.’ 45. Something else more elaborate (poikilos) (236B7–8) ‘For I do not intend to say [something with] an elaborate (poikilos)371 beauty [of the kind] that Lysias had372 [in his speech], [the kind that] is manifested (phainomenos) in combination and division, but [something] simple, uniform (monoeidês), and unified. You [of course] are used to seeing only things that are individual, composite, and divided.’ Into the same holds (labê) (236B9) (that is to say, ‘contacts’ (epaphê), [or] ‘censures’ (mempsis), or, in this case, ‘starting points’ (aphormê));373 and ‘writers of comedies’ (236C2). Into the same holds is a metaphor (46) from wrestling, A clearly defined space in which [the competitors] wrestle is marked out, say a square filled with sand. If it happened that the wrestlers fell outside the square in a particular configuration (skhêma) in the course of the wrestling, with intertwined feet, say, or gripping one another’s backs, they would stand up374 after falling out of the square, return to the square and put themselves [back] in the same wrestling configuration they were in when they fell out [of it], gripping [each other’s] backs or intertwining their feet, as the case might be, and begin wrestling afresh in that position (houtôs). This is the meaning of into the same holds.375 Writers of comedies, because [sometimes in them] whatever a speaker376 said, the person responding would say exactly the same thing [back] to him. For instance, [the one would say], ‘I’ve given it to you’ and the other [reply] ‘I’ve given it to you’. In the first place [then Phaedrus too] is repeating what was said earlier. For [earlier on], when Phaedrus made a pretence377 of being unable to recite [the speech of Lysias], Socrates said of him, If I don’t know my Phaedrus, then I’ve forgotten myself (228B5–6) and now he [sc. Phaedrus] says that he is

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saying378 this [same thing] of Socrates, [namely,], If I don’t know my Socrates, then I’ve forgotten myself. And, secondly, this indicates that when things that have proceeded return to their principles, they are said379 to go [back] into the same holds as having reverted upon the things from which they proceeded. That Socrates, as Phaedrus says, acts coyly and dissembles is not the same thing as the coyness of Phaedrus. Phaedrus really was dissembling because he was young and accustomed to delighting solely in external things and marvelling at them. Socrates, on the other hand, does so to arouse (ekkalein) the young man’s desires and bring him to a love and desire for the beauty within him. Phaedrus’ force and his saying we two are alone and in a deserted spot and [I am] stronger and younger (236C8–D3) – all these are words appropriate to what is enmattered and earthy and not yet elevated or purified, [all] characteristics of Phaedrus. Speaking without deliberation (autoskhediazein) (236D5) is equivalent to operating non-­temporally (akhronôs)380 and without plurality or division (amerôs).

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46. He calls Lysias a good writer (poiêtês)381 (236D5) on account of his fine language, because there is something fine in the way he puts his words together. After all, everything has a share of the good,382 since even matter does, for there cannot be an unmixed evil.383 Phaedrus’ swearing by the plane tree bears a resemblance to the Socratic oath by the dog, and it seems that Phaedrus is now (teôs) benefited through this, having in a way got on an equal footing (homoiotês) with (47) Socrates.384 His oath and his swearing that unless you deliver the speech for me I shall never declaim another speech for you [are the words] of someone who wants to be benefited and show that unless Socrates associates with him total privation (sterêsis) will hold him in its grip, as indeed Helios swears to Zeus.385

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Why does he call Phaedrus, whom he earlier called a ‘divine head’,386 a rogue (miaros)? He called him divine there with reference to the one in him and the

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intellective [aspect] of his soul (for every rational soul in fact (tôi onti) partakes of a divine portion), but has called him a rogue here with reference to his violence and duress (for he says, ‘unless you deliver [the speech], I’ll never declaim another speech for you’). For violence and duress originate from matter, as though matter were to say to the Demiurge, ‘unless you deck me out with forms, I shall display my deformity, obscure and dark, and the formlessness that is mine by nature, which is foul (miaros) and odious’387 – which is what Phaedrus is saying now [when he says] that ‘unless you deliver the speech for me and show me what it is you call beautiful, you won’t perfect me or have any influence (energein) on me and as a consequence I shall be base and foul’. 48. For how could I [pass up such a banquet] (236E7–8)

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Equivalent to ‘How can I not benefit souls and exert my purifying power?’.388 Banquet shows his great providence and his eagerness to elevate the young man who is ready for it; for banquet shows the fullness of his providential power and of his god-­like (kata to theion eidos) activity and likeness to the gods. That Socrates delivers his speech with his head covered [shows] that he is going to engage in activities lower than and inferior to his own condition; for the activity proper to him is the erotically inspired, as he will indicate in the palinode. So, since he is going to adopt389 the psychic mode (idiôma),390 commending chaste love and the virtues and sciences, he accordingly delivers his speech with his head covered. Or it is because Lysias delivered his words with an eye to the visible (phainomenos) beauty of Phaedrus, [and] for that reason Socrates has his head covered as (48) spurning the visible (to phainomenon) and directing his attention (dianoia) to nothing else but (autos) the advantage of the young man. Or another possibility. Since he is going to speak against love, [against] what is anyhow (hopôs pote) called love by the many, the licentious [kind],391 on that account he has his head covered; for a wise person should venerate the names of the gods wherever they occur,392 even where the many convert them to other meanings. Hence too he says that he is ashamed. Or it is because he is, as we said,393 engaging in activities at a lower level than his [spiritual] condition. Or it is because he is going to speak against love of whatever kind (hopôs pote).394 Hence after making his speech he

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says395 he has need of purification because he has sinned against the god Love and, beginning his palinode and being on the point of singing the praises of divine, inspired, and elevating love, says396 that it is Phaedrus who has delivered this speech that he is about to deliver now, [speaking] through the mouth of Socrates, and not [Socrates] himself.397 49. Come then, Muses (237A7) He begins with a prayer: as he himself said in the Timaeus,398 ‘at the outset of every enterprise, however unimportant, one should invoke the assistance of God’. And because his task is to elevate the young man and the gods are the primary and sole causes of elevation (other factors, such as daemons and Socrates, discharge a subordinate and instrumental function on behalf of the gods), he has on that account invoked the gods.399 And what is prayer other than becoming like them and straining towards them by means of [one’s] way of life?400 And since he is going to bring Phaedrus into harmony with himself and wants to attune his soul so that he will cease being agape for the external [world]401 and will revert upon himself and contemplate the beauty in himself, and since it is the Muses that are the causes of harmony and friendship, he on that account invokes the Muses. And so, since the speeches were about love, and there is great affinity between the Muses and Love, so that one of them is even called Erato,402 he accordingly begins with them. Since there are two explanations (aitia) for the Muses being called ‘clear-­ voiced’ (ligus), one arising from the activity of the Muses themselves, the other anecdotal (apo tês historias), Plato has given both. For they recount that a certain people of the west called the Ligurians (Liguroi) are so very musical that during wars they don’t even fight with all their forces but (49) only part of the army contests the battle while the other part sings as the rest fight. The words ‘clear-­voiced (ligus) because of the nature (eidos) of your song’ – i.e. [their] activity – [do] not [mean] that the Ligurian is a musical mode (eidos),403 like the Dorian or the Phrygian, but that clarity (to liguron) and sweetness are found in every kind (eidos) of music so that it enchants and beguiles the soul. One should punctuate with a full stop after take up the tale with me, for some people have had endless trouble and been full of perplexity because they

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punctuated with a comma. [Then], punctuating which this fine fellow compels me to tell with a comma, one should take so that his companion should seem to be even wiser as though he had said ‘he compels me to deliver the speech so that, through comparison of the speeches, Lysias will seem wise to him’. Since [otherwise] he will in contrast (to enantion) seem to be praying so that Lysias will seem wiser.404 One can also interpret [the passage] as follows. ‘Since it seems to Phaedrus that Lysias is wise, take up [the tale] with me, so that he will in truth seem wise although he is not wise but [only] seems so; that is, so that his wisdom is revealed as apparent and not true [wisdom] but a matter of outward appearance and self-­evaluation (doxosophia)’.405 For, just as natural phenomena are not grasped by knowledge but by opinion, and someone who believes he has knowledge of them is deceived, and it is the person who knows precisely this ([i.e.] that they are grasped by opinion) who is correct (alêtheuein),406 in the same way Phaedrus too, if he realises that Lysias’ wisdom is [only] apparent wisdom and not true knowledge or wisdom, will profit [from it]. He called his account (logos) a tale (muthos) because as compared to the true and inspired account of love this one appears to be somewhat fabulous (epimuthios),407 even though the love [he will discuss] is chaste (sôphrôn), and because he is going to be talking about the love that is excited by the visible and material. Observe how great the difference is between this Socratic speech and that of Lysias. The latter lacked a prologue and had a beginning that was obscure,408 wicked, and secretly gave birth to licentiousness, [namely,] you have heard about my affairs (230E6);409 the former started from a clear beginning and [with] the prayer to the gods. The one [writer] behaves wickedly, crookedly, and artificially throughout the whole speech, [the writing of] the other [displays]410 complete truth, demonstrative argument, and knowledge. Aimulos (237B4) is used to mean deceitful (apateôn)411 and wicked and tricky, [as in] ‘with deceitful words, she [sc. Calypso] beguiles him [sc. Odysseus] so that he will forget Ithaca’, (50) and ‘cajoling with deceitful words’.412 The characters in Lysias’ speech and those here are the same, for Socrates too wants to maintain that one should gratify the non-­lover rather than the lover. However, the situation is not the same. Lysias, whose love is licentious, maintained that one should not gratify other lovers whatever their character may be but [only] the non-­lover, that is, [Lysias] himself, the licentious lover;

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Socrates, whose love of Phaedrus is of the kind that elevates and saves, will maintain that one ought not to gratify lovers who are licentious and want a lewd (hubrei) relationship, but the chaste lover whose love is not licentious. So in the speech there is condemnation of licentious love and commendation and praise of the chaste and decorous (kosmios) love that disciplines (katakosmein) the entire soul and renders the entire life of the man well-­ordered, respectable (semnos), and decorous.

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51. Whatever the subject, my boy, there is a single starting-­point (237B7) Before saying what sort of thing licentious love is, [i.e.] that it is odious, disgraceful, and harmful to the soul, to the body and to external [goods] (ta ektos),413 he first defines what it is, because before [asking] ‘what sort of thing is it?’ one should ask ‘what is it?’.414 One should, then, first define the thing one intends to talk about and only then derive one’s demonstrations from the definition – as indeed one should, even ahead of the definition, consider the method of division through which the definition is tracked down. So if one is going to place man before horse, one must first define what man is and what horse is and only then proceed to a comparison and a judgement (apophasis). The many, however, before defining the essences of things and knowing what each of them is, go straight to making judgements about things and placing this before that, and hence they contradict (diamakhesthai) themselves. The reason this happens to people is that the soul has by its essential nature (kat’ ousian) earlier received the concepts (logos) of the Forms and has conceptions (ennoia) of them from eternity (ex aïdiou) from the Demiurge; so, inasmuch as they possess by their essential nature the concepts (51) of all things, although [these] are not ready to hand or advanced [into consciousness] (probeblêmenos), they nevertheless rush to deliver some judgement about them, as though they knew the essences and definitions of things (onta) and what each of them signifies, and then fall into contradiction because they have not laid the foundations of [their] arguments, i.e. the definitions, well beforehand.415

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Since then, he says, (237C6–8) the topic for us too is whether one should gratify and enter into a relationship (philia) with a lover in preference to a non-­ lover, we ought to define love – evidently [meaning] the licentious love that it is his aim to denigrate so that the young man will be elevated to the chaste and decorous love of the soul. Since, then, the business in hand is the construction of a definition, observe how he goes through the whole [process] of division, for division provides a genealogy, as it were, of a thing, because just as when we want to present an individual416 we are not content to state his name but begin with his parents and grandparents and his country, in just the same way division provides a genealogy, as it were, of a thing.417 He chooses (lambanein) desire, then, as the genus of love, [proceeding] exactly (antikrus) in accord with Aristotle’s instruction418 that the genera given in definitions must be clear, [for] that the lover does desire is clear to everyone. Then, to show that desire is being chosen as the genus, he says that it does not reciprocate, for someone who desires does not [necessarily] love. Indeed many people desire foods and beverages and are nevertheless not said to love or to be lovers; for ‘love’ is used in relation to pleasure in bodily beauty by the many.419 So desire, then, is the genus of love. Since desire is of three kinds, we must ask which kind he means (lambanein) now. One kind is a substance420 (ousia) and one of the parts of the soul (for the desiring part of the soul is called desire); another is a powerful capacity (dunamis) or disposition of the desiring [part of the soul], and it too is called desire, as in ‘my desire for drinks – or speeches, or prayers – is [always] very strong’; the third is an activity (energeia) of the desiring [part of the soul] that is momentary and of short duration, as when I have a desire to walk or lie down.421 Well, by desire qua genus of love he does not mean here the part of the soul; in that case all men would be lovers. Nor [does he mean its] activity, for if I eat something or like something [only] briefly and moderately (êrema) I am not said to love [it]. Rather, it is clearly the powerful capacity of the desiring [part of the soul], or a stable and unwavering disposition of the desire, that he means by desire qua genus of love here, for it is in such a disposition that love is said to consist. Having chosen the genus, he next adds the differentiae so that he can construct (plekein) the definition from genus and differentiae. In this way all of Aristotle’s logical theorems are anticipated in Plato, brought to light

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(heuriskein) through (52) the subject matter itself and not because they were contained in mere treatises (methodos).422 Taking the soul, he divides it in two, into reason and irrationality (alogia),423 and refers to both by a more common [designation] (apo koinoterou),424 since at this point the speech is also about love of the more common kind (koinoteros). The irrational soul he names from (apo) desire and the rational soul he introduces by way of (apo) judgement (doxa);425 for the judging [faculty] (to doxastikon) is the lowest-­level (pezos) [part] of the rational [soul] and the principles and causes of nature are contained in the desiring [part of the soul].426 And he has stated that desire is innate in us because desire is present in a living creature right from birth, being closely connected with the body, so that the young creature (brephos) will be nourished and grow. On the other hand, he said that judgement, that is, the rational soul, is acquired, that is, it enters from outside (Aristotle, in fact, called it the intellect from without),427 and that correct judgements and knowledge make their appearance after we have matured. By us (237D6) he means the animal in general, or this phenomenal human being as a whole including its life. He says that we aim at the best (237E2), or for the best (237D9), in place of ‘for the good’, for all things aim for the good. Now these two parts of the soul – reason and irrationality – are sometimes in accord and sometimes at variance with one another. When reason rules, the name for that style of life428 is temperance. But when irrationality rules and reason follows and is as it were enslaved, the name for that style of life is licentiousness. And if they are at variance and fight one other, if reason holds sway after the battle, it is called self-­control; conversely, if it is irrationality that holds sway after the battle, it is called incontinence.429 There are, then, these four styles of life in us. [And] when reason holds sway, to this ascendency and this regime he has assigned the name temperance, including self-­control under temperance, for he has assigned its name to this regime from the better and [more] harmonious (homonoein) [of the two]. And when, on the other hand, irrationality has achieved domination and is dragging reason into various pleasures, he has assigned to this regime or way of life the general name lustfulness (hubris). So, having further shown that this name is somewhat generic and is predicated of a number of desires, he goes on to

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define love as a kind of desire and concerned with particular [objects] (peri tade). ‘For when desire has overcome reason in the area of food’, he says, ‘and has got the better of all of the rest of its fraternal desires, for instance those for drink, (53) sex, reputation, [and] money, and has become conspicuous where food is concerned, that kind of lust or desire is called “gluttony” and someone who manifests it, a “gluttonous” person.430 And when [desire] similarly lords it in the area of drink, [the terms are] “drunkenness” and “drunkard”; and in the area of sex, “licentiousness” (akolasia) and “lecher” (akolastos). And when desire and lust have similarly got the upper hand in the area of money, this is called “avarice”, and the person who manifests it, “avaricious”. And the same goes in many other areas.’431 Indeed lust, or desire, and the entire irrational and impassioned life, are unbounded and limitless. It is this that he refers to as going under many names and having many members (238A2), and it is this that is the hydra, and this that is the ‘many-­headed beast’, as he called the limitless desire that reason beheads (ektemnein) when it dominates and rules it in the Republic (588C8). And, again, when this desire and lust has achieved domination in the area of bodily beauty, and doesn’t just desire bodily beauty, but does so powerfully and greatly and eagerly, ‘love’ is the name such desire goes under. Next, from the above, he constructs the definition of such love. ‘For the desire that is without reason, having overcome the judgement whose nature it is to prompt [us] in the direction of the right, and being attracted (agesthai) to the pleasure of bodily beauty, and having through such attraction (agôgê) overcome and vanquished its kindred desires by being vehemently (errômenôs) enthusiastic (errôsthai) about the beauty of bodies, getting its name from that very strength (rhômê) and intensity, has been named love (erôs).’432 And so love is, in a word, a strengthened and intensified433 desire for bodily beauty. 52. But, Phaedrus (238C5)

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will also define rational love, the love in the rational soul, calling it ‘winged’ (pterôs)435 because it gives the soul wings and lifts it up. Then, lastly, he will explain the derivation of [the name of] the god (54) Eros himself as being from his ‘stringing’ (eirein) or binding the secondary things to the primary, displaying his intermediacy (mesotês) as being a bond and connection for all things;436 for that is what ‘stringing [together]’ means.437 In this manner he everywhere defines love in a manner that is appropriate to the matter in hand (pragmata). Having, then, defined love qua passion and named it lust (238A1) rather than love (for he himself would not call it love, although the many do; he has said as much himself, since ‘such desire has been named love’ amounts to ‘has been named [love] by the many’), he intends next to proceed to the proofs, for demonstration (apodeiktikê) comes after definition (horistikê). But midway (metaxu), interrupting the flow of the argument, he addresses Phaedrus and says, ‘Do I seem to you [too], Phaedrus, to be in the grip of a divine passion?’. For because in giving the definition of love he stated it in a disjointed and convoluted manner with frequent inversions (huperbaton)438 [of normal word order] and the dithyrambic hymns addressed to Dionysus were also like this,439 on that account he says that he is in the grip of a divine passion – not just divine (for he is not at this point behaving in an inspired manner as he does in the palinode), and not just passion, as [is the case with] Lysias, but the combination (to holon touto) ‘divine passion’, since, while he is going to talk about the chaste and decorous love of the soul, he has not lost sight of the lustful (en hubrei) love, or love qua passion, [which he is] censuring. You could give three explanations for Socrates’ interrupting the continuity of his speech midway.440 One is logical: since after the definition of love he intends next to go on to the demonstrations, that is, to the per se properties (kath’ hauta huparkhonta)441 of such love (for per se properties are revealed through definitions), he has interrupted the speech on that account.442 A second is ethical: he wanted Phaedrus to see his attitude (pôs ekhein) and feelings about words of this kind,443 and he [sc. Phaedrus] responds: ‘By all means a certain fluency has taken hold of you’. The third you might give is the most scientific and most theological: that for ways of life of ours that are appropriate and of a particular kind appropriate irradiations and inspirations are granted us from the gods,444 and we are on familiar terms (oikeioun) with

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different gods at different times according to the nature of our life. This is the meaning of Odysseus’ at one time consorting with Calypso, at another with Circe,445 and with other goddesses at other times: depending on the nature of his life, he partook of different more [or less] divine powers at different times and was illuminated by and on familiar terms with different gods at different times. So since the present life of Socrates is purificatory and elevating (for he wants to save the young man and remove him from [the spell of] the beauty in [the realm of] generation, or external beauty), and since the Nymphs and Dionysus are overseers of generation,446 on that account he declares that he is inspired by the (55) Nymphs, or Nymph-­possessed (numpholêptos),447 and not far from speaking in dithyrambs, as if he had offered up (anateinein) his life to the gods that oversee generation and was receiving inspiration from that source and getting succour and assistance from them. So Socrates says that he is in the grip of a divine passion either because he is caring for the young man or because he is susceptible448 to the reception of divine illuminations. Then listen to me in silence indicates that one should suppress lesser and inferior activities in the interest of the reception of more perfect and divine illuminations and that the lower, or human, ways of living (zôê) should be dormant (êremein), so that perceptions and mental representations (phantasia) are suppressed when more perfect [forces] are working on them. He said he had been Nymph-­possessed because the Nymphs are the overseers of generation, whether by nature belonging (tên hupostasin ekhein) among certain heroines, or among daemons, or in yet more divine ranks. They are called overseers of generation 449 hence they are also said to dwell around bodies of water on account of the fluidity (to hugron)450 of generation. So since generative (genesiourgos) love,451 the perversion (apoptôsis) of which Socrates is about to revile, holds [the realm of] generation together, he reasonably claims that the Nymphs, who preside over generation, are assisting him in his task. He said that he is talking in dithyrambs because what is said about the definition is expressed in a disjointed manner (skoliôs), at length and with inversions [of normal word order] and dithyrambs too were delivered452 in a disjointed manner and using compound and convoluted words. Dithyrambs are hymns composed to Dionysus, not the son of Kore (korikos) but the one [born] from Semele and from the thigh of Zeus.453 This latter is the god

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responsible for rebirth,454 who some say is called Dithyrambus because he was born a second time, first from Semele, then from the thigh of Zeus; and what is more to the point is the one who creates the enmattered forms for a second time455 and prepares all generation to go forth (thuraze).456 (‘For a second time’ [actually means] many times, or times without number.) They also select compound words [for use] in dithyrambs and declaim them in a disjointed fashion because the god’s activity is in [the realm of] generation, which is where the disjointed and compound [occur]. Hence he is also said to have been raised by the Nymphs.457 Or it is because he emerged by breaking out by means of his horns and the thunderbolt.458 Fluency [etc.] stands for ‘some divine illumination has gripped you for you to be talking in such an uncharacteristic way’, for it was Socrates’ custom to make his encounters a matter of brief verbal exchanges.459 For perhaps its onset may be prevented stands for (56) ‘if you don’t remain silent but keep interrupting (thorubein), you’ll keep me from being inspired by the Nymphs’.460 53. Very well, my good friend (238D8) He intends from here to move on to the demonstrations of the per se properties of such a lover and to show from the definition461 that such a lover is harmful, warped (aiskhros),462 and, moreover, distasteful; for these are his per se properties and the ones he intends to show belong to him. Let us meanwhile arrive at (lambanein) them as follows.463 Since the life of the mind, or the good life, has, as Plato has shown in many places, these three [components], the good, the beautiful, the pleasant – for such a life is of itself good, beautiful, and pleasant, [and] in the Philebus464 he has also identified (lambanein) the elements of these [components] as being, in the case of the good, adequacy, completeness, and self-­sufficiency; in the case of the beautiful, completeness and symmetry; in the case of the pleasant, cheerfulness, enjoying oneself, and rejoicing in such a life – he wants to show that such a lover is at odds with all of these and to show that he is pernicious (kakos)465 and harmful (blaberos) (this is the opposite of the good), that he is warped (this is the opposite of the beautiful), and finally that he is even distasteful, which is the contrary of the pleasant.

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He shows that he is warped first, then that he is harmful, and finally that he is distasteful.466 The reason he began with his warpedness is that the speech itself is about phenomenal beauty, so he began with its opposite, the warped, showing that such a lover is warped, then that he is harmful, then that he is distasteful. For, there being, as was stated, three things that every soul desires, the good, the beautiful, the pleasant, he shows that the base (phortikos) lover is unprofitable (alusitelês),467 warped and distasteful. He divides the beneficial (to sumpheron), that is to say, the good, in three468 – for the good relates either to the soul or to the body or to externals – and shows in the case of each [kind of good] that such a lover is burdensome (phortikos). For when good things elude his beloved he is pleased and rejoices (which is the behaviour of someone who delights in the misfortune of others) because the lover does not want his beloved to be better off (huperballein) than him; and when they are in prospect, he prevents (diakôluein) them from eventuating, which is the behaviour of a malicious (baskanos)469 person; and if they arrive, he stands in the way (diakôluein),470 which is the behaviour of a jealous person. So he demonstrates that such a lover is the cause of many evils for his beloved. (57) 54. Now, for a man who is ruled by desire (238E2–3)

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Next (enteuthen), by way of these remarks, he shows that such a lover is warped. The argument goes like this. Such a lover is sick. A sick person is warped. Therefore such a lover is warped. That this lover is sick is clear from the definition. The desire within him is at variance with his reason, being vehemently eager in its pursuit of bodily beauty (238C2). And all discord is a disease, as was also stated471 in the Sophist. And when the worse is not only at variance with but even prevails over the better, then every city or household or human way of life is overthrown. Moreover, that illness is a deformity (aiskhos) is also clear from its very nature (autothen). There is a kind of asymmetry in it (which is why it is sickness (nosein)), and all asymmetry is productive of deformity. In the Sophist he actually opposed sickness and deformity, calling the revolt of irrationality against reason an illness and ignorance on the part of the rational soul itself of the things that are beautiful and good a deformity.472 Here, on the other hand, he calls illness as well (koinôs) deformity as involving

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imperfection and asymmetry and being an unnatural condition. For that is how the licentious lover is: sick, in an unnatural condition, and unwilling to let the beloved oppose him in anything. In contrast (gar), a good person, one in accord with nature, would, for the sake of the good (kalon), even prefer someone to go against him.

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55. And [anything] stronger or [even] equal [in strength] is hateful [to him] (238E5) Next he shows that such a lover is harmful, unprofitable, and pernicious for [his] beloved. The lover doesn’t want his beloved to be superior to him or [even] equal to him, neither better-­equipped (epistêmonikôteros) mentally, nor physically (kata sôma) stronger, nor better-­off financially, but inferior [to him] in all these areas, and so he is harmful to him. For if a beloved is superior to him, he looks down on his lover. And he lists the things he knows Phaedrus takes pleasure in – manliness, eloquence (to rhêtorikon), the clever or learned (to epistêmonikon) – because ‘in all of these [areas] the lover does not want you to be successful’.473 He says unfamiliar with manly exertions and dry sweat (239C7–8), by ‘dry sweat’ meaning that from gymnastic exercises.474 For when the body is dry, motion, evoking the innate heat, expels the excess. Wet sweat would be the kind sweated (prokheisthai) after baths or drinking wine, the kind we see men who lead a life of luxury [producing]; for this is wet sweat rather than dry. (58) By ‘possessions’ (239E4) he means all external things, and he divides these into three [kinds], relatives, friends, and assets (khrêmata)475 and shows that such a lover is harmful to his beloved in all these [areas] because he does not want him to have relatives or friends or assets.

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56. There are of course other bad things (240A9) Next he further shows that such a lover is also distasteful (240C1) to his beloved and no source of joy. And he says that some bad things, such as a flatterer or a whore (these are bad because they always say things for effect (pros pathos)), for their own profit, deceive and make false promises and often betray someone who is apparently dear to them for a small sum of money. But, although they

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are evil by nature, they are nevertheless pleasing to their companions and their companions take pleasure in them and delight in their company. For his beloved, on the other hand, the lover is unpleasant to be with and associate with. The young man feels disgust at the sight of that aged, desiccated visage (240D6), which always has to be in his company and doesn’t allow him to spend any time with people of his own age or go where he likes. He said that it is a daemon that has added a dose of charm (to êdu) to the [makeup of] the flatterer and suchlike evil [characters] because it is from the daemonic race that the separation between good things and bad first originates. Everything above the daemonic race possesses only (monoeidôs) the good. In fact there exist various races of daemons, some of which regulate and oversee particular regions of the cosmos, others particular kinds of life. Being eager to bind souls to its own allotted area (klêros), to injustice, say, or licentiousness, the presiding daemon of that way of life, implants (anameignunai) in them pleasure in the moment (240B1) as a [kind of] lure.476 There are also certain other daemons, higher than these, who dole out punishments to souls to turn them towards a more perfect and higher kind of life. One should turn a deaf ear to the former and propitiate the latter. And there are also yet other, more powerful, daemons who distribute only (monoeidôs) goods.477 He said that the charm (hêdonê) of the flatterer is not jarring (amousos) (240B2–3) because he wants, come what may (hopôs pote), to be agreeable (sunarmozesthai).478 Since he has said, There’s an old saying that those of a like age enjoy one another’s company (240C1–2), someone might reasonably ask, ‘What? (59) Can’t a student happily spend time with his teacher or a son with his father?’479 To this the reply is that unlikeness (anomoiotês) is of two kinds. One kind proceeds along with likeness, in the way that otherness does along with sameness. It turns the inferior (katadeesteros) towards what is higher (presbuteros) and more perfect than it and does not drag what is superior down to an inferior (kheirôn) [level]. The other springs from matter and deficiency (endeia). It neither turns the inferior ,480 but it even makes what is higher and more perfect worse. The forms that arise in matter partake of this latter kind of unlikeness, for they become separated from themselves and dispersed around matter. It’s just like necessity, [which] is also of

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two kinds. One kind is divine and always good, like that among the gods. The other is material and not good, like that in affairs here [on earth]. He has called the flatterer and the whore animals (240B4) and wild beasts (240B1) because they live purely in a non-­rational manner.

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57. While he loves he is harmful and distasteful (240E8) He has divided the time into the period when he is in the grip of love and the time when he has stopped [loving] and has shown the nature and extent of the evils that eventuate for the beloved at the hands of the lover during the time he is in love; then, in the period after that, when he’s finished with love, the lover is unfaithful, unjust, and harmful to the beloved. When the shell481 falls the other way up, turning, he rushes off in full flight (241B4–5) is equivalent to ‘in place of his licentious love he has developed a temperate (sôphrôn) one’. He rushes off in full flight because there too [sc. in the shell game] the winners run off to gain (bastazein) more distance. That is what happens in the game known as the shell game, which the comic dramatist Plato gives a clear description of (sunistanai)482 in the following [passage] in the Alliance: ‘They are like those children who sometimes draw a line in the streets, split themselves into two groups, [and] stand some on one side of the line, some on the other. [Then] (60) some one from [one of] the two groups, standing in the middle, throws up a shell for them,483 and if it falls light-­side up, the other lot must quickly run off and [they] must chase them.’ The one who tosses up the shell calls ‘night’ or ‘day’,484 because its inside is covered with pitch and its outside free of pitch. So the owners of the underside485 of the shell run off and the others chase them. He says with imprecations (epitheazein) (241B6) in the sense of (anti) cursing him for not having fulfilled his promises or made good his oaths – invoking the gods [against him], as it were. This is different from adjuring [someone] in the name of the gods (epitheiazein).486 58. That he should not have (241B7) Here a precept is stated to the effect that one should not rely on the compacts and oaths of the run of people (hoi tukhontes), for they readily change their

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tune because of their evil way of life. Instead one should rely on someone with virtue and intelligence (241C1), because the words of such people do not stem from emotion but from the very highest and pure part of their soul.487 Here, then, by making (epagein) the conclusion of the argument (logos) [the precept] that one should not gratify a lover but a non-­lover, he shows that he has arrived in due course at the same hypothesis as Lysias and not an entirely (haplôs) different one as one might have expected. So, consistently [with this], he has vigorously castigated the base and lustful lover, saying that he [sc. the beloved] should never have gratified a person who is in love and of necessity out of his mind (anoêtos) (241B7) – for he has described [the lover] as necessarily out of his mind. And, as for the other half of the hypothesis, [namely, that one should] much more readily [gratify someone who is] a non-­lover (241C1), he has not merely said [that one should] gratify someone who is a non-­lover, but has added and in his right mind (241C2); for one should gratify the person who is not in love and is in his right mind.

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60. Than which [there surely is not or ever will be anything more valuable to either human beings] or to gods (241C5) How is it that he said that for gods too there is nothing more valuable than education [of the soul]? (61) This is indeed true for human beings because it benefits and perfects their true being, in other words, the soul. But how [is it] also [true] for gods? Either because there are gods with souls that everlastingly undergo divine education, for there is a presiding god for this too, just as there is for health, [and] gods participate in it in the first instance and men in the second or yet more remotely (pollostôs); or it could be said to be valuable to gods as contributing to the re-­ascent of human beings in that it binds them to the gods. In the way wolves love a lamb (241D1)488 parodies (parôidein)489 the Homeric [lines]: ‘just as there are no binding treaties between lions and men / and wolves and lambs are not of the same mind’.490

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As with food, for satiety’s sake (241C8) is equivalent to ‘just as we desire food to fill the belly and once we are full no longer accept [any more] and even turn our backs on it, even so do such licentious lovers treat their boyfriends’.

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61. That’s it (241D2) Since Socrates, [earlier] in his speech when he realised that he was beginning to be possessed by the Nymphs, said, But, my friend Phaedrus, do I seem to you, as I do to myself, to have been overcome by divinely-­inspired (theios) fervour? (238C5–6) and Do not be surprised if I often become Nymph-­possessed in the course of my speech (238D1–2), on that account,491 realising that he is possessed now, he says, That’s it, Phaedrus, meaning (anti tou), ‘What I said earlier, [that is,] that I would become possessed, has just happened to me’.492 So, back there (ekei), in the middle of the speech, he realised that he was beginning to be possessed because he was uttering dithyrambs, and here that he is now [fully] possessed because he is reciting [hexameter] verses;493 for he recited [such] a verse towards the end of the speech when he said, Lovers love a boy in the way wolves love a lamb (241D1).494 The dithyramb for its part is irregular, cryptic, and complex, while [hexameter] verse is plain, straightforward, clear, and well-­ proportioned. Hence, back there, because of his (62) dithyrambic delivery, he realised that he would begin to be possessed in the course of his speech (because of which he has called it a divinely-­inspired fervour (238C6), not just ‘divinely-­ inspired’ or just ‘fervour’, but the combination divinely-­inspired fervour). Here, on the other hand, he realises that he is [now] possessed, since I am now reciting [hexameter] verses and no longer dithyrambs. [Hexameter] verses and their straightforward and measured delivery are appropriate to divine inspiration, just as irregular and disorderly delivery is to dithyrambs. So Socrates wants to stop, taking the fact that it has suddenly come upon him (eperkhesthai) to speak in metrical (emmetros) verses as a sign495 that his speech has reached its limit (metron). ([It is worth pointing out that] the inspired priests in the oracular shrines also deliver their utterances in regular metre.) But why does Socrates decline to become inspired and possessed by the Nymphs? Since, as we said (59,6 ff.), the Nymphs are the presiding deities of generation, some of them activating (kinein) the irrational [part of the soul] (alogia), others nature,496 and [yet] others overseeing bodies (some of them are

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called Naiads, some Hamadryads, some Orestiads) and Socrates was concerned with elevation of the soul, always turning (periagein)497 his own soul towards the intelligible and immaterial forms and the things that are united to the gods, he quite reasonably declines to become possessed by the Nymphs. After all, different things are proper for different people, and for different people there is kinship with different [divine agencies]. It is as though Socrates had said: ‘I do not want to be inspired in connection with enmattered beauty, nor yet in connection with the middle-­level mode (idiôma), the psychic, about sciences and virtues and about chaste love, but in connection with the intellective and divine activity of the soul’. For even though inspirations in connection with the middle-­level concepts (logos) of the soul, and even contemplation of sensible and composite beauties themselves, are fine [things], they are nevertheless emptier and inferior as compared to the consummate (akros) contemplation of Socrates. So what is said498 of the Demiurge in the Timaeus, [namely,] ‘after saying these words to the young gods, he retired to his watching-­place’, Socrates also [does] now: having spent time499 on the middle-­level concepts of the soul and having censured licentious love and left it to Phaedrus to advance (proballein) the concepts concerned with chaste love from within himself, he wants to retire ‘to his own watching-­place’ and to intellective activities. [However,] his appointed daemon keeps him longer in the sphere of generation to complete his speech and present his arguments on the subject of divine and elevating love. For it saw (63) Phaedrus’ readiness to receive the more divine accounts of love that the palinode contains. Why, having vilified licentious love and having said that one should not gratify a lover of that kind, doesn’t Socrates also tell [us] about the person who does not love with a licentious love but who is chaste, but [merely] says: For all [the bad points] for which we have abused the one party, there are contrary good points belonging to the other (241E5–6)? My answer is that this too is in accord with Plato’s teaching everywhere [in the dialogues]. For because he maintains (boulesthai) that instances of learning are instances of recollection500 and that ‘the eye of the soul’501 is clouded, as though by discharges (lêmê), at the hands of generation, for that reason he merely removes the impediments so that the young man himself may produce (proballein) the truth from within himself. In the same way he said502 in the Theaetetus that knowledge is neither sense perception nor erroneous judgement (doxa) nor correct judgement, so that

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Theaetetus can produce [its] cause (aitia) with [the appropriate] account (logos) from within himself. So here too, having said how many bad points the licentious lover has, he leaves it to Phaedrus to produce from within himself the opposites of these, [i.e.] all the good points the chaste lover has. He says that he is not a teacher of anything because he himself is merely removing the impediments or discharges from the eyes, as a doctor does, and after that the soul, by means of its power of self-­motion, produces from within itself the truth that it has had [all along] of its [very] essence from the Demiurge. Because of this it was his habit to lead the young to the recollection of the universal by induction and by particular [examples] since the soul, having dropped out of the shared revolution of the gods503 and been confined (apostenoun) to generation and become as it were cut off and individual, is then504 wont to recollect (anamimnêiskesthai) with the aid of (dia) the things that are particular and akin to it.505 So the reason that Socrates says you won’t hear the rest (to pera) from my mouth; as far as you’re concerned, let that now be the end of the speech (241D2–3) is that he wanted him to produce from within himself the middle-­level concepts of the soul and the concepts that relate to chaste love and because he thought that the concepts relating to this chaste love were suited (summetros) to Phaedrus himself while those relating to divine and elevating love as yet were not. Hence [Socrates] himself, as a [mere] mortal (anthrôpos), leaves off [at this point], but the daemon, which knows everything – the conditions and aptitudes of souls and the right times [to assist them] – holds him back to set forth the more inspired and perfect and sublime concepts relating to love as well, for it knows that the young man will profit. (64)

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62. And that while I’m finding fault! (241E2) For if he is beginning to utter hexameter verses and no longer dithyrambs, and that while finding fault with licentious love, what would he have done and how inspired would he have been had he been praising and hymning divine, or even elevating, love, as he’ll do (energein) in the palinode? [He says,] Into whose arms (hais) you out of providence threw me, because good men link all of their activities to providence.506 So since it was Socrates’ purpose to detach Phaedrus from generation and from the phenomenal beauty

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in the realm of generation, and to turn Phaedrus towards himself and towards the beauty of the soul and of the sciences and the virtues, and since the Nymphs are overseers of generation (cf. 58,28–9), on that account he credits the providence of the Nymphs with the salvation of Phaedrus, on the ground that he [sc. Socrates] is inspired by them as they assist him in the elevation of Phaedrus from [the realm of] generation. In a single word (241E5) and what need is there of long speech (241E7) because the more we ascend to the higher regions the more we unify ourselves and bring ourselves around to simplicity and [a condition of] partlessness (amereia). For composition and intricacy and length are in externals and perceptibles, but the projections (probolê)507 of the soul take place with simplicity and as though by a touching or [direct] contact of the mind (nous). Hence he leaves it to him to advance (proballein) the concepts (ennoia)508 relating to genuine and chaste love in a single and undivided (amerês) word. 63. And so now [my] story (241E8)

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There was a practice509 for it to be sometimes stated at the end of stories (muthos), that is to say, in the moral (epimuthion), ‘and so the story was saved, and will save us if we believe it’ (as [Plato] said at the end of the Republic), and sometimes ‘and so the story has perished’.510 [Such a] statement means that if we follow the apparent [meaning] (to phainomenon) of the story, [then] just as the world of appearances (to phainomenon) itself perishes and is naught, so too shall we perish, but if we adhere to the secret doctrine (theôria) that the story enigmatically imparts (ainittesthai), we shall be saved by getting back to the intention of the creator of the story [and] not [only] as far as the fictitious story [itself]. So, by saying and so now it will suffer whatever fate it deserves, he has included (tithenai) both [possible outcomes], both that [the story] ‘was saved’ and that it ‘has perished’, [thereby] indicating that if we follow Lysias’ argument (logos), we really shall perish, but if we follow Socrates’ (65) we shall be saved. And I shall go on across the river stands for ‘mounting above generation and rising superior to it I shall return to my intellective watching-­place511 before I am compelled through [too] much occupation with externals to descend from [the level of] my intellect to discursive arguments (logismos) and the generated world (to genêton)’.

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Until the heat passes stands for ‘until I have put aside everything earthly and enmattered (enulos) and all of the discharge [in the eye] of my soul and become pure and more immaterial’;512 for we see that it is also the case that more densely wooded (enulos)513 regions are more inflammable. Midday is called still (statheros) because when the sun gets to noon it seems to stand still (histanai).514 [This is] because its movement around sunrise involves an obvious change of position while that around noon does not; [conversely,] for the same reason that the stars appear larger near the horizon, they also appear to be moving faster. Or [it is] because in [the case of] the pointers of sundials the shadows move shorter distances in equal periods around noon; or because the perpendicular is the most stable (stasimos) of all [lines]. Phaedrus has given two reasons for the need to remain, the first the one based on the heat, the second the one based on the fact that the soul of itself (autê kath’ heautên) has an obligation to explicate the concepts (logos) associated with what has been said.

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64. You are certainly divine515 when it comes to speeches, Phaedrus (242A7) He now calls (apokalein)516 Phaedrus truly (tôi onti) divine because he is ready to hear the inspired accounts of love. For he himself, believing (as a [mere] mortal) that it was enough and in keeping with [the state of] Phaedrus’ soul [for him] to have viewed the beauty of soul [that was] in him, was eager to depart. However, the overseer of Socrates’ activity and contemplation, knowing everything about him and about Phaedrus, checks his eagerness and prevents him from leaving so that Socrates may become inspired on the subject of love and complete his speech and Phaedrus partake of these concepts, as being ready [for them], and be elevated to a higher and more lofty way of life. As far as Socrates’ daemon is concerned, it has often been said that it is neither, as some have thought, a part of the soul nor philosophy itself and [this] is also clearly stated by him here. [He says], the usual daemonic sign came to me and all at once I heard a voice – which, he says, always turns [him] back (242B8–C2),517 whereas philosophy frequently turns [us] towards [something] and the part of the soul desires to do it.518 It is, then, clearly stated that [neither of] these is Socrates’ daemon, but what it is remains to be said.519

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(66) Well, the entire daemonic genus is said by [Plato] himself in the Symposium520 to fall between gods and human beings, ‘conveying [communications] from the gods’ to us and carrying messages from us up ‘to the gods’. One kind of daemon is placed immediately over us and guides each of us. For each of us certainly comes under a particular daemon who governs our entire life. That is to say, we do not have control of all of our circumstances (panta ta peri hêmas) – we don’t, for example, control an activity like generalship – and nor for that matter of our own nature. For if you were to say that [our] reason controls all of our circumstances, you would not be stating the truth. We neither have control over the kind of dreams [we have] when we sleep,521 nor of food being digested well or badly (toiôsde ê toiôsde). However, some one [entity] must control all of our circumstances and govern and guide our entire life. Now if you say that this is god, you are talking about a transcendent cause, and it must be something proximate that rules over our entire life. This is our presiding daemon, which, after the soul’s choice, is allotted to it as the facilitator of everything chosen [by it].522 Not all people are aware of this daemon. There needs to be a high degree of readiness and attention to the controller on the part of the person who is being controlled for that person to be aware of its guardianship (kêdemonia). Just as everything is cared for by the gods, but not everything is aware of the fact that it is cared for but only (ei mê) things that are naturally able to see and that have been purified, so too is it with the oversight of the daemon. Readiness and awareness arise in the first place from the soul’s, straightaway after making its particular choices and being allotted to a particular daemon, attending to it [sc. the daemon] and always cleaving to it, and drinking [only] as much as is necessary of the mandatory draught of the water of Lethe when descending into [the realm of] generation so that it does not completely forget the counsel and oversight of the daemon. Hence such souls are aware of the oversight of the daemon even here [on earth], but the other souls, those who blame the daemon as though it were the one that chose tyranny and [their] eating of [their own] children,523 who do not attend to the daemon but are herded (agein) like irrational animals – these are entirely without understanding of the superintendence of the daemon here [on earth] as well. So through some [souls] immediately attending to their allotted daemon and others not there results awareness of the daemon or [lack of it] – and also from not drinking a

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large draught of Lethe and from the order of the universe, because this order of the universe has made one person fitted for (67) awareness, another not. Hence too it [sc. the order of the universe] has allotted to one person a body of a kind that bears tokens524 of such [fitness] (toiosde) – on the visible body, on the pneuma,525 and on the soul itself – to another absolutely not. Moreover, awareness, or [lack of it], results from a given way of life. Men who are good and live virtuously, dedicating their whole life and all their activity and attention (theôria) and conduct to the gods and to the unseen causes, are aware through certain tokens and signs whether the daemon is deterring them from an act or not. And for this reason, when a weasel runs [past], say, or a garment gets caught, or when a stone falls, or something is said, or a thunderbolt is discharged, they are aware of the deterrence and refrain from the action. But the many lead the life of cattle.526 From all of this it was reasonable that Socrates, having become aware of the dissuasion (apotropê) of the daemon, did not leave. But why used it to hold Socrates back but never urge him on? First, why did it [only] hinder [him]? Just as some horses need the goad because they are slow and others the bit because they are [too] eager, so too, among men, those who are giving of themselves and out of kindness (prothumia) [always] want to do good and turn their hand to every [meritorious] undertaking (which was what Socrates was like) often need to be held back by the daemon, whereas those who are slow to give of themselves even need provoking (diegeiresthai). And if the daemon also bars him from most undertakings because it is preparing him for elevation, that would make sense too. But why didn’t the daemon also urge him on? So that Socrates would not [function] like a non-­rational and externally-­moved [entity], doing nothing of his own accord, and not as a rational, self-­moving soul. Hence it allowed him to function as a self-­moving being, but if at times, as an erring human being, what he was going to do wasn’t right, it would hold him back from that action. But how [can this be] so? Won’t the daemon be found to urge [him] on as well if in fact it gave vent to a message for him that, [as] he says, does not allow me to leave until I make atonement for sinning in some way against divinity (242C2–3)? For ‘wait to make atonement’ were [the words] of one urging [to

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action] (protrepontos ên). The appropriate response is that his usual sign, as he himself has indicated, was preventive. For even if it is ‘some’ (tis) voice, as he has stated both here and elsewhere, it is some voice of the usual kind, namely, preventive. And if you were to say that the present voice too barred him from leaving by pointing out his sin, and then Socrates realised by himself that he had to make atonement, (68) that would have some plausibility too. (Atonement is the fulfilment of a neglected piety.) Since he said, and I seemed to hear a certain voice (242C2), and it is clear that the voice was daemonic (otherwise Phaedrus would have heard it too), we must ask how such voices are heard, and whether daemons speak at all. Well, Plotinus says527 in the first book of On Difficulties About the Soul528 that there is nothing surprising about daemons giving voice (phônê) given that they inhabit the air. After all, speech (phônê) is a kind of striking of the air. And since divine men529 ascribe speech and senses even to the heavenly gods ([as in] ‘Helios who observes everything’ and ‘an odour has come to [my] senses (phrenes)’),530 and also ascribe speech to the whole cosmos, one must seek some common rationale that will apply to everything that vocalises in any way and, more generally, [ask] how the higher genera [sc. daemons, angels, encosmic gods, etc.] sense [things]. Putting it plainly and succinctly, the answer is this. In our case, when we perceive with a [given] sense, two things occur: there is an affection in the region of one of our sense-­organs, e.g. in the region of the pupil or some other sense-­organ; and there is knowledge of the affection itself. Of these [two], let us exclude (aphairein) [the existence of] the affection in the case of the higher genera but retain (kataleipein) the knowledge. One should further remark that the body of the sun (the subject is sense perception and sense perception has to do with the body) does not sense [things] via a [local] affection but is perceptive (gnôstikos) in its entirety and is all sight and all hearing, seeing that, after [our] release from this body, even our vehicle (okhêma),531 being limpid (lampros) and pure, is percipient in its entirety and sees at every point and hears at every point. Speaking generally, one should be aware that the divine and ancient men allow the heavenly gods the cognitive powers, which include the perceptual powers (for the senses are particular ways of knowing (gnôsis)), but differ532 over the appetitive power. And Plotinus for his part gives [them] even this, but Iamblichus dissents.533

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On the subject of speech, one should say that they534 do not produce this [earthly type of] speech [that works] through impact (plêgê) and reverberations (psophos) and by way of windpipes and similar organs, nor do they need a medium (to metaxu) and impact in the air.535 Rather, just as we assigned (72,26 ff.) (69) to them a different kind of perception, one that was cognitive but did not involve a [physical] effect (ou pathêtikos), so too [do we assign to them] a voice that is of a different type and suited (sustoikhos) to them. For it [sc. the voice] is emitted (endidonai) by them in one way but the recipient (to metalambanon) receives it in another. Just as, though the sun itself is not burning and there is [only] a vital and life-­creating and non-­damaging (aplêktos) warmth in it, the air receives the light from it with an impact (pathêtikôs) and in a burning mode (kaustikôs), in the same way, while there is a certain harmony and a different kind of voice in them, we hear them in a way that produces an effect (pathêtikôs) [on us]. But we certainly do not hear [them] with these sensible ears, and nor do we see daemonic or divine visions with these organs of vision or sensible eyes, but, given that there are senses that are more fundamental (arkhoeidês), more archetypal (paradeigmatikos), and purer than all these [earthly] senses in the pneuma, the soul clearly both hears and sees divine apparitions by means of these. Hence too it alone among all those present perceives [the apparition]: ‘appearing to him alone, and of the others none saw [her]’.536 In fact there is communion between the vehicle of the daemon and that of the soul. As a result, the daemonic vehicle, not employing a tongue or [other] organs of speech, but merely at the wish of the soul of the daemon, produces a kind of motion or harmonious sound that has meaning, which the soul of the human being perceives with the sense in [its] luminous vehicle.537 There is,538 then, as was stated (70,13 ff.), a particular daemon that of its nature (kat’ ousian) guides (hêgeisthai) the soul. Often the soul, during one and the same lifespan, is, according to its differing ways of life, assigned (suntattein)539 to one daemon after another, not [including] the one that is of its nature (kat’ ousian) chosen (exêirêmenos)540 (that one is always by its side), but to others [that are] more specialised (merikos) and overseers of its various undertakings. So, even if it [sc. the soul] chooses the lot that accords with its own deity and is assigned to the daemon that comes under it [sc. under its own deity],541 it will fall under various more specialised daemons. If it leads a more sinful life, it

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falls under the daemon that is subject to the passions [and] wallows in evils, and if it comes to its senses and lives a purer life, it is placing itself under a daemon of a better kind. And in this way it changes its presiding daemons without moving beyond the compass (platos) of its lot, just as in the Republic, to take an example, each person has the capacity by certain actions to place himself either in the working class (to thêtikon) or in the guardian class. This is [the meaning of] the statement,542 ‘a daemon will not draw you by lot, you will choose a daemon’. (70) 65. Because I had committed some sin against divinity (to theion) (242C3)

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Since he has spoken against Love, even though it is not Love properly speaking [he has spoken against], but a licentious passion, because it is nevertheless (hopôs pote) called ‘love’ by the many and one must venerate the names of the gods wherever they occur543 inasmuch as they are symbols and images (agalma) or likenesses (eikôn) of them [sc. of the gods] which the soul has dedicated to them,544 on this account, he says that he has sinned against divinity. ‘My fear, Protarchus, when it comes to the names of the gods’, he says, ‘is not merely human, but beyond the greatest fear’, as he says in the Philebus.545 [The Thetic (to thêtikon) is the lowest tax assessment (timêma) among the Athenians, the citizen body being divided into four assessment groups (telos), those of the Pentacosiomedimni, the Knights, the Zeugitae, and the Thetes. The first of these, which was named from its producing five hundred dry and wet measures [of produce], paid a talent to the treasury. Those paying the Knights’ tax seem to have been called [Knights (hippeis)] because they were able to keep horses (hippoi); they produced three hundred measures and paid half a talent. Those paying the tax of the Zeugitae are enrolled from [those producing] two hundred measures and they paid ten minae. Those [assessed] as Thetes held no offices and paid nothing.]546 66. I am, you see, a prophet (242C3–4)

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comparing himself to Apollo and the [other] gods. For the divine art of prophecy extends to all times, all places, and to actions of every magnitude whether great or small,547 whereas the human art, and even in some cases the daemonic, can know things within certain limits of time and place, but not things beyond [those limits], and can make predictions about minor and earthly (tade) matters but not about those that are any greater. Like those who are bad at writing (ta grammata) (242C4–5) [is to be understood] as follows. There are those who write so slowly and badly that they can make notes for themselves but nobody would use them as secretaries. And if, due to a lack of clarity, they wrote things intelligible only to themselves, then this too would (71) not be inconsistent with Socratic caution (eulabeia).548 Socrates, then, likens his own prophetic art as compared to the divine or daemonic prophetic art to [the efforts of] these people. He fittingly and rightly said the soul too is to a degree (ti) the possessor of prophetic power (to mantikon) (242C7), for it does indeed possess a degree of (tis) prophetic power, albeit minor, impeded and feeble; for inasmuch as it is a rational entity (phusis), it often divines (stokhazesthai) correctly with regard to future events,549 whether on its own initiative or prompted by birds or certain other divinatory550 (stokhastikos) signs. Hence he fittingly added to a degree in the case of the soul as compared to divine prophecy. I was wary (dusôpein) like Ibycus (242C8) [is to be understood] as follows: ‘I do not want to give offence to the gods or sin in their eyes for the sake of honour and reputation among men.’ So I was wary is equivalent to ‘I took care’ (eulabeisthai).551

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67. [That was] a terrible [speech] Phaedrus! (242D4) He lays three charges against the speech of Lysias and all three with justice (kat’ alêtheian), for he was a lover of the worst kind of love, he loved it passionately, 5 and he clung to it. But the [speech] of Socrates 552 as compared to the perfect love or Love qua god, since Socrates’ speech was about the middle-­level (mesos) love that is seen in sciences and virtues553 and in the chaste life of the soul, but not in the inspired life. It is for this reason that he said, [using the same word] twice:554 [That was] a terrible [speech], Phaedrus, terrible. For 10 the speech of Lysias really is terrible, since it is shameful and lustful love, while

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that of Socrates is also terrible as compared to the inspired and elevating love,555 because things that are lacking and inferior when compared with those that are more perfect and superior are foolish (242D7) and terrible, and somewhat impious (242D7) – [though] not simply impious. He says impious because in a way (hopôs pote) the name ‘love’ in general had been subjected to criticism, for Socrates, as was said,556 was exceedingly careful (eulabês) about the names of the gods. He says somewhat impious and not simply ‘impious’ since not every kind of love was criticised, but only a specific and particular kind – the love that is lustful and licentious. Now there are three things [to distinguish]: beings that are above us; those that are of the same rank as us but seem exalted (semnos) (I mean good men); beings, or anything else, inferior to us. [This being so], he has called a sin against [the powers] above us ‘impious’ and one against good men, because they [sc. the perpetrators] do not shrink [from it] and feel no shame,557 ‘shameless’, and has described paying a lot of attention to things that are inferior (72) and not worthy of much attention as ‘foolishness’. Bewitched (242E1) is equivalent to ‘enchanted with respect to [one’s] physical aspect (phusis) and beguiled with respect to all [one’s] non-­rational side (to alogon)’.558 For in the Symposium559 he similarly called Love himself a ‘philosopher’, a ‘mighty wizard’, a ‘sorcerer’ (pharmakeus) and a ‘sophist’: a philosopher because he awakens our rational side (to logikon) to beautiful things, a wizard because he restrains our spirited part, an enchanter because he beguiles our appetitive side, and a sophist because he deceives and entices our nature. As we have said frequently,560 he attributes the speech to Phaedrus both because he has directed (eipein) the discourse against love, even if it was the licentious kind, and because discourse (diatribê) on inspired and elevating love was of primary importance (proêgoumenôs)561 and an activity characteristic of Socrates. He said [if Love is,] as is indeed the case, a god or something divine (242E2) either because Love is a god, but there are also [other] divine and daemonic Loves; or because Love is in his own right a god, but is divine insofar as he leads [things] up to the object of love that is above him, for he directs all inferior things up to what is beautiful and the object of love and to the Good.

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While saying nothing sound or true (242E5) is again true [both] of the speech of Lysias (for it really did contain nothing sound or true), and of Socrates’ speech, because, as compared to the primary, true, and elevating activities of love, Socrates’ speech also contained nothing sound or true.562 For if Socrates’ speech did contain some truth, it was in relation to the chaste kind of love and the psychic beauty of the sciences and the virtues, since Socrates’ present words (rhêma) are not at all comparable to the god Love and his [sc. Socrates’] Bacchic revels and inspired activities that the words (logos) of the palinode contain.

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68. So I, my friend, [must purify myself] (243A2–3) There being these three things, substance, power, activity,563 the gods for their part conduct (paragein) their own secondary and tertiary activities while remaining in their own primary activities and not departing from them. But if a person (tis), in projecting (proballein) a secondary or tertiary activity from within himself, neglects his primary (prôtos) [activity], or even forgets about it, then he errs (hamartanein), in that he puts aside his primary and proper activities and spends his time on more superficial (koiloteros) things, as it were. And if he not only spends time on secondary [activities] while neglecting the primary ones, but also behaves crookedly (diastrophôs) where they are concerned, then the error is a really serious one. For instance, let there be three men. The first one devotes his time to contemplation. The second is also capable of engaging in contemplation, but has rejected it and spends his time on civic (73) matters (politeia). The third man does not even behave well in civic matters but in a crooked and unscrupulous manner. Now both the second and the third man go wrong in that they have withdrawn from their primary and finest activity, but the third man commits a graver error than the second, because the ascent (anadromê)564 to his primary [activity]565 would be very easy for the second but difficult for the third. The speech of Socrates, then, is analogous to the second man, that of Lysias to the third. For Socrates, the ascent (anodos) to his own first principles, i.e. to contemplation, is very easy and smooth. (In the first place, he didn’t give up his primary activity when projecting the secondary one. And secondly, even if he had given it up, he would not have been far from it566 since he conducted himself well567 even in

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the area of his secondary activity; he only needed to turn back.) For Lysias, on the other hand, inasmuch as he behaves badly and repulsively, the ascent (anodos) to his first principles is not easy but very difficult. Purifying himself, then, is Socrates’ putting aside secondary and more superficial activities and turning back to his own proper activities, the primary and intellective ones. It is for this reason that he has called it568 original (arkhaios) (243A4), for from eternity souls that have proceeded from their origin (arkhê) have returned to it.569 What error in relation to mythology (243A3) actually is is erring in relation to theology, for mythology is a kind of theology. So not behaving intelligently in relation to mythology, that is, not mastering570 the thought of the myth-­makers in an intelligent manner but instead following their apparent (phainomenos) [meaning], is error in relation to mythology. This is Socrates’ situation in that he has abused love – even though it was the licentious kind it was still Love’s name. This then is what error in relation to mythology is. The purification from this sin is to put forth (proballein) the true and inspired concepts relating to love, which the palinode contains. Hence he has returned once more (palin) to the ancient song (ôidê), the very first [of all].571 What must be said about cases of pollution and purification is this. The purification [always] relates to the same thing as the pollution, but the notion of pollution is an addition of something alien while the notion of purification is the removal of something alien. The pollution originates [anywhere] from the highest part of our soul right down to our uttermost attachments and the purification is suited to each [case]. For instance, treading in, say, mud or mire is a pollution of the body, and unless something else is involved, the pollution [only] extends to the body. Hence it is easily remedied, for a bath immediately washes it off. There is also pollution of the pneuma. [Such] pollution is communicated to the pneuma from certain vapours, for instance, in these unclean regions572 or from certain licentious (74) actions.573 Only the telestic574 art recognises [such pollution] and produces the appropriate purification for each [type]. There is also pollution of the irrational soul, [namely,] irrational desires and outbreaks of anger (thumoi), the purifications of which are for their part (palin) effected through moral philosophy or the assistance of the gods. And there is also pollution of the rational soul, [which occurs] when [the

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soul] internally (par’ heautêi) reaches false conclusions on the basis of false beliefs and [then] comes out with a lot of nonsense and false thinking. Refutation is the purification for these [latter], and philosophy, and above all the assistance of the gods, which perfects the soul and leads it to the truth, can drive them off (apelatikos).575 For each of these kinds of pollution you may discern three [kinds of] people or three different [situations] (diaphora). One [kind], of which you will rank Homer among the foremost [examples], has undergone pollution and suffered harm without realising it. (For harm invariably follows upon pollution because a daemon appropriate [to the pollution] knows the person’s life is of that nature (toiosde)576 and is assigned (suntattein) to him.577) Another [kind] (Stesichorus is one of these) has undergone pollution and suffered harm and become aware of it subsequent to the harm, and then, having thus become aware of the harm after suffering it, has healed himself. And the third [kind of person] (Socrates is one of these) is the one who undergoes pollution but treats himself prior to being harmed. (The harm does not follow immediately [after the pollution]; there is time between [them].) Just then as doctors say that opposites are the remedies for opposites, though not tout court, but [those] involving (kata) the same type of opposition and in the same part [of the body] and within the same limits, in just the same way here, since the error and the pollution were in relation to mythology (for pollution also stems from words), Socrates here too (palin) also intends to heal himself according to the same type [of opposition], for it is through mythology,578 or the palinode, that he intends to purge and remedy his error. But how was Socrates polluted by [his] words when he was uttering [those] words after due consideration (meta phronêseôs) with a good end in view and for the benefit of the young man? Granted Lysias has incurred pollution, and by choice, but how has Socrates? Well, because he has given himself over to more superficial activities, and in short579 to the cleansing of other people’s evils and attention of one kind or other (hoios pote) to them [sc. the evils], and because he has spoken against the name of Love, even if it was the licentious sort, on this account he intends to purify himself as one who has undergone pollution. [Even] the upright judge who punishes wrong-­doers according to the laws and for the sake of the good has need of purificatory rites and would not, if he is prudent, approach a sacrifice after a sentencing and execution

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(phonos) before being purified, [and] Socrates behaves in exactly the same way.580 (75) 80,1

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69. For when he [sc. Stesichorus] was deprived of sight (243A5) There are various accounts of the blindness of Homer. Some say that he was blind from birth and was born this way. Others say that while tending sheep near the tomb of Achilles he would place numbers of drink-­offerings and chaplets on [it] in honour of (eis) the hero and call on him to appear to him. The hero did appear, gleaming in full armour, and Homer, unable to tolerate the sight [because of] the brightness of the arms, was struck blind.581 Still others say that because he had said of Helen that Alexander kidnapped her and carried her to Ilium and took her as his wife,582 he was blinded as a result of the heroine’s rage at having been insulted by him. But how is it that when Stesichorus said the same things against her and was struck blind he recovered his sight? They say that the Locrians and the Crotoniates were [once] at war with one another.583 It was the custom of the Locrians to dedicate an unguarded part of the army to the heroes on the basis that they would guard it. Accordingly the Crotoniate general Leonymus attacked this part of the Locrian army as undefended and, being wounded by an unseen hand, withdrew in a bad way as a result of the wound. Therefore he went to the oracle in Delphi [looking] for a cure and received the response that the one who wounded would also heal. When he went on to ask who had wounded him (for this was unclear), he heard that it was Achilles. He [then] went to the island Leuke584 (which is consecrated to Achilles) to plead with the hero as a supplicant, and saw some of the heroes in a dream (koiman) and received a cure from Achilles and was told (akouein) by them that he should say to men ‘O men, nothing you do escapes the notice of the gods and the heroes’. Helen too came and told him to tell Stesichorus to sing a palinode in order to regain his sight, ‘for Homer too was rendered blind for exactly the same reason – for having defamed me.’ And so it was that Stesichorus, after hearing [this] from Leonymus, wrote the palinode and so regained his sight.585 What does Plato mean to convey by this? We certainly won’t jump to the conclusion (katapsêphizesthai) that Homer spoke ill of Helen. Indeed, who else has praised Helen as he did? He calls her

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‘like Artemis of the golden arrows’

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and [says] ‘no blame (nemesis) that the Trojans and well-­greaved Achaeans should have long endured suffering for such a woman’.586

(76) It must be said that Plato does not claim to be representing (prospoieisthai) real people here and that it is not on account of (kharin) the [actual] men that he includes this [material], intending to show that Stesichorus was a better man than Homer and Socrates better than both of them – for it does seem that this is what is being shown given that Homer was not even aware that he had been harmed, that Stesichorus healed himself [only] after becoming aware of the harm, and that Socrates treated himself [even] before he was harmed. He does not, then, include this [material] with the men [themselves] in mind, but is simply telling us here about three [different] dispositions. The first is devoted to sensible beauty (for this is what Helen stands for) in the belief that it is the genuine and primary beauty. It does not look up from it but has been blinded [by it] and remained within it[s ambit], like the man who was polluted and suffered harm without realising it, of which Homer was an example (paradeigma). The second disposition at first also initially placed its trust in sensible beauty in the belief that it is the primary beauty and really real, but later recollected and was sent up from this [sphere] to intelligible beauty (hence it recovered its sight (anablepsai)587),588 like the man who was polluted and suffered harm but realised this and healed himself. Stesichorus was taken as the archetype (eikôn) of this [disposition]. Third is the disposition that is completely unharmed but after [only] a little recollection and philosophy assigns the appropriate measure to each kind of beauty – the sensible and the intelligible – like the man who was polluted but quickly treated himself before he was harmed. Socrates is an exemplar (endeigma) of this disposition.589 It is certainly not Socrates’ intention to prove himself superior to Stesichorus and Homer. Rather, he has used these stories for the sake of [illustrating] the above-­mentioned [psychic] dispositions. On the above reading (anaptuxis) and according to the surface meaning (to phainomenon) of the story alone and according to the Platonic dispositions [it illustrates], [it is indeed the case that] Homer is inferior [to the others], Stesichorus superior [to him], and Socrates surpasses them all. But it is possible, if one produces a different reading of the

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blindness, to put (deiknunai) the order of the men the other way round, with Homer superior to everyone, Stesichorus on a lower level, and Socrates inferior to all of them. For in fact they tell of Thamyris that when the Muses met him, they rendered him blind, that is to say, they deprived (pauein) him of sensory (aisthêtos), or externally-­directed, vision and of the celebration of sensible beauty, and turned his eye590 toward intelligible and invisible being and really real beauty.591 This then indicates that Homer, by remaining blind, remained fixed in (77) intelligible and unseen harmony and was turned from perceptible and externally manifested beauty to intelligible and intangible beauty or that which is apprehended by intellect alone. Stesichorus for his part also initially contemplated intelligible beauty, but later, having descended from up there (ekeithen) and fallen away from that contemplation, contemplates sensible beauty. For this is what his seeing again after being blind means on this interpretation. [Lastly,] Socrates deliberately chooses to be inspired in relation to sensible beauty and to cling to it alone and distance himself from the other [kinds of beauty]. For his not yet having been blinded would [now] mean that he has not yet been inspired in relation to divine love. You can see that this interpretation accords with the fact that Socrates everywhere sings the praises of the theologians, of the inspired poets and of Homer592 and wants to follow them. Hence we have shown that on this reading Homer is superior to everyone.593 However the first explanation is more suitable and appropriate to what is said here.594 It will be convenient to set out the interpretation of Helen and Ilium and the war between the Greeks and Trojans as well [at this point] so that we can get some clear [indications] from these matters too for the issues under discussion.595 Let us, then, understand Ilium as the generated and enmattered region, having got the name ‘Ilium’ from ‘mud’ (ilus) and ‘matter’ (hulê), in which there is also war and faction.596 The Trojans [will then be] the enmattered forms and all the life-­styles associated with bodies, which is why the Trojans are said to be aboriginals (ithagenês),597 for the life-­styles associated with bodies and the irrational souls all treat matter as belonging to them (oikeios).598 And the Greeks [will be] the rational souls travelling from Greece, that is to say, from the intelligible [realm], into matter, which is why the Greeks are called ‘latecomers’ (epêlus) and overcome the Trojans as belonging to a superior

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order. Battle breaks out between them over an apparition (eidôlon) of Helen, as the poet says: Thus it was over an apparition that the Trojans and the noble Greeks hacked the bulls-­hide shields covering (amphi) one another’s breasts,599

where Helen signifies intelligible beauty, which is a kind of ‘attractor of intellect’ (helenoê)600 that draws the intellect (78) to it. An emanation of this intelligible beauty then has been granted to matter through the agency of Aphrodite, over which emanation of beauty the Greeks fight as though over a human being. And some, prevailing over matter and successfully rising free (katexanistasthai) of it, depart to the intelligible [realm], their true homeland, while others are held fast in it, which is the life of the many. Accordingly, just as the prophet in the Republic foretells to the souls how they may be led upwards and the thousand and ten-­ thousand year cycles of souls,601 so too among the Greeks does Chalchas foretell602 [their] return after ten years, the number ten bearing the mark (sumbolon) of a perfect period. And, just as during lives603 some souls are elevated through philosophy, some through the art of love (erôtikê), others through their kingly or martial [character],604 so too with the Greeks do some succeed through practical wisdom (phronêsis) and others through their martial or erotic [character], and the journey home is [correspondingly] different [for each of] them. We have then too, as in [the case of] the passage currently under discussion, a plausible (metrios) identification (anaptuxis) of the things (toutôn) in relation to which (peri hôn) Plato is in all likelihood (ouk apeikos)605 providing indications by way of the palinode to Helen, in line with (sumphônôs) the passage under discussion, [namely,] that it is not the person who concerns himself with the beauty that is sensible and enmattered and in composition and outward flowing606 who is concerning himself with truly real beauty. Instead, one should distance one’s self from this love and this beauty, even if it is of the psychic kind and more immaterial as compared to the sensible kind, and turn oneself toward the inspired and elevating kind of love and toward intelligible beauty and towards the truth itself607 [that is located] in that which is (247E1–2) [or truth] qua god, as he says608 in the palinode. As a [true] musician (mousikos) he understood the reason [for his blindness] (243A6–7) is equivalent to ‘as a maker of songs (melopoios)609 and one who has observed the harmony of the universe’.

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Socrates did not simply say I shall be wiser than them (243B3) but added in this at least (243B4). For it was not consistent with Socrates’ modesty (emmeleia) and irony to pronounce himself wiser than the poets; instead he added the [qualification] in this at least, that is, in having become aware of his error before he was harmed. He means by ‘harm’ remaining amid sensible and phenomenal beauty, even should he be concerning himself (anastrephesthai) with the mid-­level beauty that is in the chaste soul. For one must ascend (anatrekhein) from this latter too to the loftier and inspired kind of love and to the intelligible beauty toward which love raises [us], and which Socrates will celebrate in the palinode. [Socrates recites his palinode] with his head uncovered (243B6) since he is about to celebrate the elevating kind of love, [or love] as a god, and he was accustomed to assume postures in conformity with his words.610 But if you were to say that ‘uncovered’ [indicates Socrates’] freedom (to apheton) because his thought becomes unconstrained when engaging with (energein pros) higher things but fragmented (merikos) and weak and, as it were, veiled (79) when concerning itself (strephesthai) with inferior and more superficial things, then that statement too would have a good deal of truth. 70. [You see], my dear Phaedrus (243C1)

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We have stated (76,4) that he accuses each of the speeches of three things: of being impious, of being foolish, of being shameless. Having addressed [the first] two, he now talks about the shamelessness of the speech, [claiming] that it fails to respect honourable (gennaios) men. By honourable (gennadas) (243C3)611 he means those who love with a noble, chaste, and decorous love. Plato habitually condemned the conduct (êthê) of sailors (243C7) as unmanly, ignoble (agennês), and corrupt conduct. This is doubtless why he also expelled the nautical [element] from his state (politeia).612 One would classify sailors as analogous to enmattered forms and to the ways of life that revolve around bodies in that they always practise their profession (diatribê) on the moist [element] (hugros), which is to say, in [the realm of] generation. Hence he urges one to keep away from them. He has called sweet (potimos)613 discourse (243D4) the discourse [that stems] from intellect and the gods and the discourse that concerns itself with

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contemplation of them and distasteful (almuros) (243D4) [discourse] that which dwells on sensible and enmattered things. Hence the former nourishes the plumage of the soul and bears it aloft, as he says in the palinode, while the latter makes it waste away and destroys it (246E2–3). [All] things being equal (243D6)614 means ‘on the basis of the same or equal arguments (epikheirêma)’; for he himself too said earlier for all [the bad points] for which I have abused the one party, there are contrary good points belonging to the other (241E5–6). It also means that the terms (onoma)615 should be examined in and of themselves and without any addition. For instance, if you want to compare health and wealth, you should not assume health in a man who is unjust and licentious and wealth in a man with self-­control (sôphrôn). This is no longer to compare health and wealth, but to instead compare licentiousness and self-­ control (sôphrosunê). ‘So in the present case (nun) too, Lysias, if you wish to compare being in love (eran) with not being in love, you should not take being in love where it involves (epi) loving (eran) licentiously and not being in love where it involves [behaving] in a self-­controlled manner, but take being in love and not being in love in and of themselves. For [then] love will be seen by you to be better in every way, for love tout court comes to the same thing as loving in a chaste and godly manner.’ So [other] things being equal means this: judging things in and of themselves and without the addition of anything external. Phaedrus promises to persuade Lysias to also write in praise of the lover (243E1), for he everywhere takes Lysias along with him, because Socrates leads (80) Phaedrus upward and Phaedrus [does the same for] Lysias.616 After all, the last things do not revert upon the first without some intermediary; there is need of intermediaries, even though the higher things are present to all things without mediation as far as their power is concerned.617 So long as you are who you are (243E2) is equivalent to ‘so long as you are a lover of discourse (philologos)618 and wish to follow me and stay with (ekhesthai) me’. Here, right beside you (243E7) in the first instance means that ‘I’m with you whenever you wish, because I always stick close to (ekhesthai) you’, for the speech already delivered was directed at Phaedrus and the one about to be delivered now [will be] too, but it also means that the universal concepts (logos) in the awakened soul are always available whenever it wishes. Socrates is speaking just to a [single] boy [but is] perfecting all of the youth by doing so.

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71. [Look at it] this way, beautiful boy (243E9) 15

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Let us consider what is the same and what different about this speech and the one that was delivered previously. Shared and the same for both of them is the fact that they concern love and the contemplation of beauty, for both the speeches are about love (erôtikos). But they differ in that the one delivered earlier examined the psychic beauty found in sciences and virtues and the chaste love the soul has when contemplating itself, while the one about to be delivered investigates intelligible beauty and celebrates the place beyond the heavens (247C3) and the divine and elevating love. In a word, the former is concerned with the middle-­level concepts (logos) that belong to the soul, while the latter deals with619 the forms that are beyond the soul. Again, they have it in common that both are cathartic. However they differ in that the former barred [him; sc. Phaedrus] from the whole [realm] of phenomenal and external beauty and purified [his] warped love (for he [sc. Socrates] wanted to make him revert upon himself and to turn him towards psychic beauty), while the present one also takes away psychic beauty and everything that has undergone pluralisation and directs [him] up to that which is unified and to intellect and to the one of the gods itself.620 Again, they also display commonality and difference in the persons to whom they are addressed. For insofar as Phaedrus was the audience for both the earlier speech and this one they also display commonality in that respect. But insofar as Phaedrus then and Phaedrus now are not one and the same person, in that way they differ. For in Socrates’ first speech Phaedrus was not yet purified (for at that point Socrates was [still] wanting to purify him and make him revert upon himself), whereas here, since he is already purified and has contemplated himself and the beauty that is in the soul, that is how Phaedrus is portrayed (paralambanein). This is why ‘boy’ is there used without any determinate reference (aoristôs) and he [sc. Socrates] speaks as though addressing someone who isn’t present, [saying, for example,] There once was a boy, or rather a young man, who was exceedingly beautiful (237B2), and again, whatever the subject, (81) my boy, there is a single starting-­ point (237B7), while here he actually seeks out621 the boy because he has already undergone purification and, because he has gazed on the beauty in his own soul, addresses him as ‘beautiful’, [when he says,] Look at it this way, beautiful boy (243E9). Moreover, Socrates says that he did not deliver the earlier speech,

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but that Phaedrus son of Pythocles of [the deme] Myrrhinous622 (244A1) [delivered it] through the mouth of Socrates, while he ascribes this one to 10 himself. And one could also grasp the difference [between the speeches] from an explanation of the names.623 For the name Phaedrus (Phaidros) is indicative of phenomenal beauty, which is pleasant and bright (phaidros); he [writes] son of Pythocles because Phaedrus was gladdened (234D3) by the beauty that streams in by way of the hearing, that is to say, by the arrangement (sunthêkê) of Lysias’ words; and of Myrrhinous refers to the earthy and enmattered, for the 15 myrtle is a tree of the chthonic gods, being suited to (oikeioun) their low-­level (peripezios) powers.624 From all these [considerations], then, it is revealed that the previous speech was not about the primary beauty but about what is mid-­ level or lowest among beautiful things, whereas the present one is concerned with the primary and really real and simple and steadfast beauty – for [the 20 name] Stesichorus (244A2) refers to the stability and steadfastness of the intelligible beauty around which the other beauties dance while it remains unmoving, Euphemus (244A2) [means] ‘worthy of reverence’ (euphêmia), and of Himera (244A3) [means] ‘loveable’ (eperastos), [and]625 the intelligible beauty, up to which Socrates’ present speech directs [us], has all of these [attributes].

The second of the three [books] of the scholia of the philosopher Hermias on the Phaedrus (83) 1. It is not a true account (244A3) He has begun from the same starting-­point as Stesichorus, since he too is writing a palinode addressed to Love just as Stesichorus did to Helen. And he has described the earlier account as ‘not true’ but false, even though in a way it gave a true account of the facts, because it focused on sensible and externally manifested (phainomenos) beauty [and] hence had an admixture of falsehood. He said when [a lover] is at hand advisedly (asphalôs); for he did not simply say ‘the account that does not gratify the lover is false’ but that the [account] that says that one should gratify the non-­lover when a lover is at hand [is false].

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Next, since from start to finish Lysias had only used this [one] argument, saying that one should not gratify the lover because the lover is mad while the non-­lover is of sound mind, and Socrates had used it himself (for he himself said (235E2 ff.) that it was not possible to say [only] things entirely different from [those] Lysias [had said] but he would at times have to use the same material) – since, then, he too had, amongst many others arguments, also used this one, [namely,] that the lover is mad while the non-­lover is of sound mind, he shows that the word ‘madness’ is not univocal (haplous) [but] in fact has at least three senses. One [kind] is higher than and superior to sanity; another, which in one respect excels sanity and in another is excelled by it, [is] on the same level (sustoikhia) as sanity; another [is] inferior to sanity. Since, then, all of the arguments in the earlier speeches were based on his [sc. the lover’s] (84) being mad and out of his mind, Socrates assumes exactly that but shows that the term ‘madness’ is not univocal. For it [sc. madness] is either solely an evil or solely a good (this would be [for it] to be univocal), or it is both a good and an evil. Now if this univocality (haploun) meant [that it is] solely an evil, it would be in all respects inferior to sanity. If however it were solely a good or in one respect a good, in another an evil, the fact that madness is a good does not suffice to also make it superior to sanity. For what if it were a lesser good? Hence [he] must show that in addition to [being] a good it is also a greater good than sanity is. He will do just this and show that the madness that is superior to sanity is a cause of the greatest goods for human beings and that madness is not just a very great good but is also the cause and mother of the greatest goods. Hence he gives it special praise. And if it is also, as he will say, bestowed by gods, it would be a cause of the very highest goods. And if the highest (prôtos) [kind of] love and middle-­level love and the lowest love [all] produce ecstasy and madness, even though the types of madness are different, it seems that this very thing – [I mean] the production of madness and ecstasy in a person possessed by it – is characteristic of love. 2. For indeed both the prophetess at Delphi (244A8)

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talking of each [individually], we must first state with regard to inspiration which part of the soul it is that is inspired and whether every part [of it] is inspired, and whether all inspiration comes from gods, and in which part of the soul this [sc. inspiration] occurs, or whether [it is] in something else superior to the soul. Where precisely, then, is inspiration properly and primarily so called [located] and what (tis) exactly [is it]? Now, there are two parts to the rational soul: discursive thought and opinion. And, again, in the case of discursive thought the lowest [part] is called, and is in the strict sense, discursive thought, and the highest, which is also called its intellect, [is that] in accordance with which the soul first and foremost becomes intellective, and [is] what some629 have also called ‘potential intellect’. And there is [yet] another [part] above this that is the highest and most unified [part] of the entire soul, that wants what is good for all things and always devotes itself to the gods and is ready to bring about whatever they wish. This is called one of the soul and bears the image (indalma) of the One above being, giving unity to the entire soul.630 That it is indeed necessary that things be this way we may learn from the following. On the one hand the rational soul exists thanks to (para) (85) all the causes prior to it, that is to say, thanks to intellect and gods. But on the other it also exists thanks to itself since it perfects itself. Insofar, then, as it has its existence from gods, it possesses the One, which unifies and unites into one all of its powers and all of its plurality, and which first receives goods from gods and [then] renders the whole substance of the soul boniform, since it [sc. the rational soul] is [thereby] bound to the gods and united to them. And, insofar as it exists thanks to intellect, it possesses intellection (to noeron), as a result of which it grasps the forms by means of simple intuitions (epibolê) and not discursively in that it is also joined to (sunaptein) the intellect above it. And insofar as it also causes itself to exist, it possesses the capacity for discursive thought (to dianoêtikon), as a result of which it generates sciences and ideas (theôrêma) and operates discursively and argues to a conclusion from premisses. For that it does also cause itself to exist is clear from the fact that it also perfects itself. For a thing that brings itself to perfection and furnishes itself with well-­being will much more so furnish itself with being; for well-­being is superior to being, so if it furnishes itself with what is superior, it will all the more furnish itself with what is inferior. So the inspiration that is primarily and properly speaking and truly from gods occurs in connection

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with this one of the soul that is above discursive thought and above the intellect in it [sc. in the soul] – a one that is at other times [sc. in the absence of inspiration] like someone who is exhausted and asleep. But when this one is illuminated, the whole of life – the intellect, discursive thought, the irrational [part of the soul] (alogia)631 – is illuminated and a reflection (indalma) of the inspiration is granted all the way [down] to the body itself. Other kinds of inspiration also occur in connection with the other parts of the soul when certain daemons, or even gods, [though] not without [the participation of] daemons, stimulate it. For example, discursive thought is said to be inspired when it discovers sciences632 and ideas in a flash and before (huper) anyone else. And opinion and imagination are said to be inspired when they invent techniques633 (tekhnê) and produce incredible works, like Phidias in the sculptor’s craft and others in other crafts, [and] as Homer also said of the maker of the baldric ‘may he, having fashioned it, not fashion anything else’.634 And the spirited part (thumos) is said to be inspired when it is abnormally aroused in battle: ‘he ran amok (mainesthai)635 as when spear-­wielding Ares . . .’.636 (86) And if someone, because he fancied (epithumein) it, ate something that reason forbad and subsequently, contrary to expectation, remained healthy,637 you might also say that the fancy (epithumia) was in an ill-­defined way inspired. And so inspiration also occurs in connection with the other parts of the soul. But inspiration properly speaking and in the true sense is when this one of the soul [that is] above intellect is awakened to the gods and receives inspiration from that source. However at different times it [sc. the soul] is possessed by different gods in accordance with its propensities and it is possessed to a greater or lesser degree according as (hotan) it is intellect or discursive thought that is aroused (kinein). So just as, when we ask what philosophy is but are imprecise and use [terminology] incorrectly, we often638 refer to mathematics or natural science or ethics as philosophy and science,639 so too is it with inspiration. For we are wont to talk of inspiration even though it is imagination that is stimulated (kinein). However, those who attribute inspiration to [people’s] bodily constitutions or to favourable atmospheric conditions640 or to different types of exhalations or to the suitability (epitêdeiotês) of the times or places or to the action of [the bodies] that revolve in the heaven, are talking about the contributory (sunaitios) and material causes of the phenomenon

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(pragma) rather than its causes properly speaking.641 You have then as efficient cause of inspiration the gods, as material cause the inspired soul itself, or external symbols too,642 as formal cause the inspiration (epipnoia) from the gods in the region of the one of the soul, as final cause the Good. But if the gods always want what is good for the soul, why isn’t it always inspired? They do want what is good for it, but they also want the order of the universe (to pan) to prevail,643 and it [sc. the soul] is, for many reasons, not always conducive (epitêdeios) to that. Hence it is not always inspired. Some say that telestic extends [only] as far as the sublunary [sphere]. If by this they mean that nothing superlunary or celestial acts (energein) on the sublunary region, they are clearly talking nonsense. And if they mean that the practitioners of telestic (telestês) cannot operate (energein) above the moon’s sphere, we shall say that if all the spheres assigned to souls are sublunary, their statement will be true, but if there are also spheres assigned to souls [in the region] above the moon (as there in fact are, since some [souls] are attendants of the sun, some of the moon, some of Saturn;644 for he [sc. the Demiurge] sowed some in the earth, some in the sun, some elsewhere),645 then it will also be possible for the soul to operate above the moon. For, what in the long term the whole order [of the universe] provides it with, the soul will also be able to provide for itself in the short term by means of telestic with the assistance of the gods.646 For while it could not ever operate above its assigned sphere, it could operate [up] to the level of its assigned sphere, (87) just as, if for argument’s sake the assigned sphere of the soul extended (einai) as far as philosophy, the soul could, even if it did not choose a philosophical life but some other, be philosophically active to some degree during that life. And there are even said to be certain supramundane souls.647 Thus much on how the soul is inspired. But how is it that a statue is said to be inspired?648 Well, it certainly doesn’t operate in its own right in the sphere of (peri) the divine, being a thing without soul. Rather, telestic, purifying its matter and conferring upon the statue certain symbols and tokens, has by these means first made it animate and caused it to receive a kind of life from the cosmos, then gone on to make it ready to be illuminated by the divine. Such a statue continually gives out responses (khrêmatizein) as long as suitable [recipients] are able to receive them. For the statue, once it is consecrated (teleisthai), remains [effective]

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thereafter, until such time as it becomes totally unfit for divine (theôn) illumination. The recipient, on the other hand, [is illuminated only] by turns (para meros). At one time (nun) it stops receiving, at another (authis) it is again filled (emphorein).649 The reason is that once the soul is filled it operates in its own right in the sphere of the divine [and] for that reason grows weary from operating [on a level] above its own power (it would be a god and like the souls of the stars if it didn’t grow weary), while, as for the statue, as it fares, so does it remain illuminated, [and] for that reason unfitness [for illumination] on its part leads to total loss [of illumination] unless it is once more freshly consecrated and animated by the priest.650 That inspiration (enthousiasmos) in the true sense occurs in connection with the one of the soul and that it is inspiration (epipnoia) and illumination from the gods has now been adequately explained. In what follows let us deal with (dialambanein) the order and use of the four kinds of madness and why the philosopher has mentioned only them. Was it because there are no others or was it because he was content with them for present purposes? That there are in fact also other kinds of possession and madness he himself will indicate651 later and has [already] alluded to it in what precedes where he says should I become Nymph-­possessed (238D1); and there are moreover those who are possessed by Pan or by the Mother of the Gods and Corybantic frenzies (korubantismos),652 which he himself will mention653 elsewhere. He has told us only of these four here firstly because these on their own suffice the soul for its restoration, as we shall learn in what follows, secondly (epeita) because he is giving those that impinge (epibainein) directly on the soul. For the gifts of the gods to all things (onta) are many and beyond comprehension, but at the moment he is instructing [us] in the actions of the gods on souls. And he is giving an account of [all of] these four kinds of madness not because it is the case that [any] one of them, especially the erotic, does not (88) suffice to convert the soul, but [because it is] the [whole] series654 of them by rank and degree and the [appropriate] perfection of the soul in a [given] rank [that] is currently being presented. So, just as it is possible for a tyrannical man to change all at once (athroon), and, with the help of (khrêsthai) a high degree of commitment (prothumia suntonos) and divine providence, become aristocratic, but his step by step (kata bathmon) ascent from being tyrannical is to being democratic, from that to being oligarchic, then to being timocratic, and finally

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to being aristocratic (and his descent, or falling away, the reverse),655 in just the same way here, the soul, when destined to ascend and be restored, is first gripped by Muse-­engendered madness, then telestic, then mantic, and finally erotic, as we shall learn later. These four kinds of possession cooperate with one another and have need of one another. Accordingly, there is a high degree of interconnection (koinônia) between them. For example, telestic [madness] has need of mantic656 (for mantic determines the greater part of the content of telestic), and, conversely, mantic also needs telestic (for telestic consecrates and dedicates oracular shrines), and, again, mantic also needs poetic (poiêtikos) and Muse-­engendered [madness] (for seers pretty much always talk in verse), and in turn Muse-­engendered [madness] also of its very nature (autophuôs) needs mantic, as he says himself: ‘for the sacred (theios) tribe of poets, being inspired, when speaking prophetically with the help of certain of the Muses and Graces, invariably hits upon much of the truth’.657 As for the erotic and the Muse-­engendered, what need be said? Pretty much the same people have made use of (askein) the Muse-­engendered658 and the erotic since the one cannot exist without the other, as for instance Sappho and Anacreon and their like. [In fact] it is clear that the erotic also contributes to all [the rest] in that [it contributes] not only to these [we are discussing] but in fact purely and simply to every kind of inspiration, for no inspiration (enthousiasmos) [of any other kind] occurs in the absence of erotic inspiration (epipnoia). You can see how Orpheus clearly made use of all [types of inspiration] as being mutually necessary and interconnected. Tradition passes down that he was very much involved in the mysteries and in prophecy and was inspired by Apollo, [and] also every inch a poet – indeed for that reason they also say he was a son of Calliope.659 And he is [also] very much a man of love (erôtikôtatos) as appears from his talking with Musaeus and offering him divine blessings (agatha) and bringing him to perfection.660 So we have seen that this man was possessed by all of the types of madness [mentioned by Socrates]. And this is necessarily the case, for there is great unity and mutual cooperation between the gods who oversee these kinds of madness and there is a close reciprocal connexion between the Muses, Dionysus, Apollo, and Love. (89) Finally, we must go into (dialambanein) what each kind of madness is. But let us first make the distinction that [activities] that are internal and are seen in the soul itself and that perfect the soul are one thing, activities that are

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external to it and that preserve the outer man and our nature, another. However, the four external types are analogous to the four that are internal. So let us first take only those that are internal and in the soul and look at what they do to the soul. And so that this will be clear and they [sc. the activities of the various forms of madness] will be taken in order, let us look at the descent of the soul from on high, or its loss of wings (cf. 246C2; 248C8) as he calls it. Originally and at first the soul was united with the gods and that ‘one’ of its was joined to the gods. Then, withdrawing from that divine union, it descended to intellect and no longer possessed [all] there is (ta onta) in a unified manner and in one but gazed upon it and saw it by means of simple apprehensions and, as it were, direct contacts (thixis) [on the part] of its intellect. Then, withdrawing from intellect too and descending to reasoning and discursive thought, it no longer gazed upon it by means of simple apprehensions either, but by moving syllogistically and step by step and one thing after another from premisses to conclusions. Then, departing too from pure reasoning and the psychic mode (idiôma), it descended into generation and was infected with great irrationality and confusion. It must, then, return once more to its own origins and go back once more to the place whence it descended. And in this ascent and restoration these four types of madness assist it. Muse-­engendered [madness] brings into concord and harmony those of its parts that have fallen into disorder and have declined into indeterminacy and discord and are afflicted with great confusion, while telestic renders the soul perfect and whole and equips it to operate at the intellective level (noerôs); for Muse-­engendered madness tunes and orders the parts alone, while telestic makes it function as a whole and renders it whole so that its intellective part too is active.661 For after it has descended the soul seems to be shattered and weakened and the circle of the Same, i.e. its intellective part, is obstructed (pedan), and the circle of the Other, i.e. its opining part, suffers many bends and twists, [and] therefore it functions [only] one part at a time (merikôs) and not with its whole being (kata pasan heautên).662 Dionysiac possession, then, after the harmonisation of [the soul’s] parts, renders it perfect and makes it function with its whole being and live intellectively. Apollonian, on the other hand, causes all of its multiplicitous (peplêthusmenos) powers and the whole of it[s being] to return to its one and [thus] revives [it]. (Hence [the god] is called Apollo as leading the soul back ‘from the many’ (apo tôn pollôn) to the One.)663 (90) And, finally, Erotic664

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[possession], receiving the unified soul, joins this one of the soul to the gods and to intelligible beauty. So all the others are, as I said,665 seen in each of them, but each is named according to what dominates. For, these donor gods themselves being three and their gifts [three] and the [entities] that partake of them [sc. souls] threefold, since the givers (ta didonta) are united in the highest degree and are in each other, on that account the gifts too partake of and share in one another, and the recipient, namely the soul, is fit to [receive] all of the gifts. You could also derive the four types of madness in another way, by division. Since wholeness is threefold, either as in the part, or as out of the parts or as before the parts666 – for the whole exists as a part (merikôs), as man is called a ‘microcosm’667 while being a part of the cosmos and as the individual (merikos) intellect possesses all the forms the all-­complete one does; and there is also the whole out of the parts, as, for instance, the sensible cosmos is [formed] from all of its parts; and there is the whole before the parts, as the form of the cosmos [is] in nature or in soul as a whole668 or in the intellect in the way that the form of the house is in the mind (psukhê) of the architect (tekhnitês) – the Muses and Muse-­engendered madness are what bring together (sunarmostikos) the whole qua part, Dionysus and telestic madness what bring together the whole out of the parts, and Apollo and mantic madness what bring together the whole before the parts. And, to crown it all, Love establishes this one of the soul and the soul itself among the gods, and the function of erotic [madness] is this, to attach (sunaptein) the soul to the gods and their unutterable beauty. You could also derive their order from their numbers. For they dedicate the monad to Apollo because of the unity (to heniaion) of his activity, just as the monad also embraces all the numbers in unity (heniaiôs); and the triad to Dionysus as being perfect in that it has a beginning, middle parts (mesa), and an end, just as Dionysus renders the soul perfect; and the number nine to the Muses, because it has all harmonies and relationships within it669 since the entire procession of the numbers comes to an end with nine (ennea) (on account of which they named it ‘the new one’ (hena neon)).670 You [can] see that the monad, qua primary, makes three perfect, and three [likewise] nine, and, before the monad, you may take the one as analogous to love and the good that all things desire; for Love leads all things up to the one of the gods. From other perspectives (epibolê), they also dedicate the tetrad to Dionysus because

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it first contains all of the [musical] intervals (harmonia)671 (one and a third [or] 4:3, one and a half [or] 3:2, double (91) [or] 2:1, triple [or] 3:1, quadruple [or] 4:1, which is to say, the fourth, the fifth, the octave, the twelfth, the double octave), and because it also contains all of the numbers in itself; for the tetrad is the root of all of the numbers because the decad is produced by addition of the monad as far as it [sc. the tetrad]672 and ten is all number,673 and, in short, because theology674 calls675 it ‘four-­eyed’ and ‘four-­faced’. You could also derive images of these kinds of inspiration from the logical procedures (theôrêmata). [In that case] you will take definition, which puts together man and his definition from ‘living creature’ and ‘mortal’ and produces his species, as analogous to Muse-­engendered [madness]; division and analysis, which send [one] up through the subaltern genera to the highest genus (genikôtaton), [as analogous] to telestic [madness]; and [as analogous] to Apollonian and mantic [madness], the highest genus itself, which has travelled up from the many to the most unified one.676 And you could further take the path of the ten highest genera to the being that is predicated of all things in common as equivalent to erotic [inspiration];677 for Love also leads all things up to the Good. This, then, is the order and the internal (endon) activities and powers of these four types of madness within the soul itself. Let us now also look at their external (ektos) effects (energeia) on a person and what they bring about externally in our environment (peri hêmas). Muse-­engendered [madness] causes [us] to give utterance in metrical form (emmetrôs), and to do things and to move in a rhythmic manner (euruthmôs),678 and to sing of the achievements and virtues of divine men and of their way of life (epitêdeumata) in metre, and by these means schools (paideuein) [our] manner of living, just as within it unified (sunarmozein) the parts of our soul (cf. 93,30 ff.). Telestic [madness], by chasing away all that is alien, polluted, and harmful, keeps our lives unblemished and unharmed, and by chasing away679 the [undesirable] types of madness and daemonic apparitions, makes us sound, perfect, and unblemished, just as within it rendered the soul unblemished and perfect (cf. 94,1 ff.). Mantic [madness] brings together in unity (heniaiôs) the extended and unbounded [nature] of time and sees all things – those that have passed, those

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that are present and those yet to be – as though in a present unity (hen), the ‘now’. Hence, by foretelling future events, which it sees as contemporaneous (paronta), it makes our lives go by without stumbles, just as within it brings together and leads up to the one all of the multiplicitous and (92) manifold lives and powers of the soul so that it will be kept safer and be preserved (cf. 94,8 ff.). Erotic [madness] turns young men to us and leads them into friendship with us, since it too educates young men, and leads young men from sensible beauty to the psychic beauty in us (hêmôn), and from this leads them up (anapempein) to the intelligible [kind], just as within it joined the one of the soul to the gods (cf. 94,11 ff.). My fellow student (hetairos) Proclus raised the difficulty as to how, if the types of madness are got by division (94,20 ff.), there can be [any] other type apart from them.680 To this the philosopher [sc. Syrianus] replied that, even though they are got by division, there is nothing to prevent each from falling under many gods (or, rather, that is actually necessary), though in differing manifestations (epibolê).681 But how is it, he asks, that although we always put telestic ahead of all our [other] practices and even say that it is higher than human philosophy itself,682 we are now making it inferior to both mantic and erotic? Well, firstly (prôton men), we do put it ahead [of them] in the affairs (pragmata) of human life, but not in those of the soul itself as well.683 But why is it that things are not the same externally as internally?684 After all we said (93,13) that the internal state of affairs shows analogy to the external. Well, there are points at which it shows analogy to the internal situation and points at which it does not. Telestic is put before everything else because it clearly holds everything else in its embrace – theology and the whole of philosophy, and indeed erotic, since it [sc. telestic] must have a strong erotic attachment to them [sc. to theology and philosophy] if it is to be successful685 – but it is [only] when we consider external erotic on its own that we look at things in this way and from that perspective (tautêi) it seems to us inferior to telestic. So, if you consider the rest separately from telestic, you will see that they are much inferior to it.686 So one must not carelessly apply analogies to everything, but only to what they are being used of. It is as though, to take an instance, figures were taken to be analogous as to their surface areas but not as to their perimeters, for [the latter] will by no means follow.687

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All of the aforesaid types of madness are superior to the sane soul. There is, however, a type of madness that is on a level with sanity (sôphrosunê) which we said (87,22 ff.) is even in a sense excelled by sanity. For in the sphere of the middle-­level, and as yet opinionative, concepts of the soul certain inspirations occur by virtue of which skilled workers produce outcomes that are superior to expectation and discover [new] techniques (theôrêma),688 as for instance Asclepius did in medicine and Heracles in the sphere of practical action.689 Workmanlike commonsense (tekhnikê sôphrosunê), then, will seem to have the edge (93) in the more technical (theôrêtikos) [sphere]. However, in my judgement inspired skill seems to be in all respects690 superior. But why is it that other kinds of inspiration only last a short time but those in the arts and sciences are enduring? Well, just as we said (91,3 ff.) in the case of the statue that it has certain symbols and tokens which are such that, as long as they are preserved, the whole rite causes it [sc. the statue] to be continuously illuminated, in the same way the skilled worker, in addition to suitability in other respects, is in possession of the techniques (theôrêma) [of his art], which, present like tokens in the soul, cause it to be continuously illuminated. For this reason we must always be going over the practices (theôrêma) of the sciences and of prophecy itself so as to be on the threshold of inspiration by the gods who preside over [them]. We should not be troubled as to how it is that Dionysus was said to provide us with wholeness and perfection even though he is said to be the presiding deity (prostatês) of division, of the divided intellect, and of the entire particular creation.691 Just as the soul is said to descend into generation owing to providence and its own boniform choice, but having descended becomes too attached to (philophroneisthai) generation, and on that account descent is said to be a bad thing for it even though it is not a bad thing tout court, in the same way, having received and willingly submitted to division with respect to [its] substance, that is, to otherness from other souls, at the hands of Dionysus, it divides itself still further and makes itself more particular with the result that it no longer functions with all its capacities; so it is said to receive wholeness and perfection from Dionysus at that time, that is, to recover wholeness with respect to its substance and to become sound. So it remains true (sôizesthai) for us at one and the same time both that the god is the cause of our division and that we become whole and perfect and complete again through him.

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2. For both the prophetess at Delphi (244A8) Four kinds of madness being, as stated,692 presented here, [sc.] those that are superior to sanity (sôphrosunê), he mentions the mantic [madness of the seer] first , because they693 were prominent (ekphanês) in Greece. Here (nun) he describes their external activities, [telling of] the good things they secure for people.694 Accounts of the oracle of Dodona are various. It is in fact the most ancient of the Greek oracles. Some say that it was an oak tree that gave oracles there, others that it was doves. The truth, however, is that it was female priestesses, their heads (94) garlanded with oak leaves, who were referred to as ‘doves’, who gave the oracles. So, perhaps some people, led astray by the name, supposed that doves gave the oracles;695 and since they were also garlanded with oak leaves, perhaps for that reason [people] also said that an oak tree gave the oracles. The oracle belongs to Zeus, that in Delphi to Apollo.696 He [sc. Plato] has then quite reasonably taken it that the two oracles are related. For Apollo is said to be an assistant in Zeus’ demiurgic work (dêmiourgia), and frequently, if the response of the oracle of Dodona seemed unclear to them, [people] went to the oracle at Delphi to ask what Zeus’ response meant, and Apollo frequently explained many of them. So then, when the priestesses (244B1) were inspired and giving oracles, they greatly benefited people by foretelling the future and setting them on the right track (prodiorthousthai), but when in a normal state of mind (sôphronein) (244B3) they were just like other women. Consequently, madness is not simply an evil, but [may be] something that is superior to soundness of mind and a cause of many benefits for human beings. But why is it that, though they often didn’t seem at all holy in the rest of their lives, the[se] women were filled (emphorein) [with inspiration]?697 Well, we only look at a small [part of the picture], because we only take into account this [present] life of theirs, but the gods, who also know previous lives and the cycles of souls, have assigned to them this honour at this time (nun). The things that are said about the Sibyl are so remarkable that they might seem to be myths. There have certainly (mentoi) been many Sibyls, all of whom have chosen the life of the seer.698 Of course (mentoi) it may be the case (isôs) that they all chose to be called Sibyls for a reason, just as Hermes Trismegistus, after having lived a number of times in Egypt, is said to have remembered his

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[former] self and to have been called Hermes for a third time.699 (There are also said to have been three Orpheuses among the Thracians.)700 So perhaps they too chose these names on the basis of a certain affinity (koinônia) and of recollection, since at any rate this Erythraean Sibyl of whom he now speaks was originally called Eriphyle. [Of her] they say that no sooner was she born than she addressed everyone by name and spoke in verse and in short time took on the form of a mature adult (anthrôpos). There are three arguments by which he proves that [this] madness is a good and something superior to sanity. One is from its essence (ousia), because this is bestowed by the gods, and everything given by the gods is the greatest of goods, and this is its essence. The second, from its activity (energeia), [is] that this kind of madness has done many good things for Greece. The third, based on its name, [is] that the ancient and authoritative (endoxos) name-­givers called the greatest of occupations, i.e. mantic (mantikê), by the name ‘madness’ (mania); (95) [for] weaving this name into the name of the art, they called the art manic (manikê).701 Later generations, however, from ignorance of what is beautiful, added the letter ‘t’, alarmed by the word ‘madness’. [So Plato] has used the term from ignorance of the beautiful (apeirokalôs) in a strictly proper way, for although they had the beautiful name ‘madness’ itself [there in front of them], through ignorance of what is beautiful, they failed to recognise the beauty of the name. That the ancients did call divine mantic ‘manic’ also becomes clear from its opposite:702 for, he says, inquiry into the future on the part of the sane (244C5–6), that is, all human divinatory (stokhastikos)703 mantic, which is the product of our practical wisdom (phronêsis) in the course of our activities and investigations (of this kind are [mantic] based on signs, e.g. star-­watching; what is now called augury, [i.e. divination] by means of birds of prey and [other types of] birds; reading entrails; divination through omens (sumbolikê), and so on), since they have been put together704 from these three things, [namely,] thought (oiêsis), intellect (nous), and observation (historia) (for they get something from our thinking and conjecture (stokhasmos), as a result of which failures often occur, something from intellect, since it is not possible for an art to exist without the universal,705 and also get something from observation, that is to say, experience, as do those who have written of their experiences),706 the ancients, packing (enteinein)707 these three terms, [I mean] thought, intellect,

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and observation, into a single term, called it oionoistikê (244C8), referring to every divinatory human art as oionoistikê, pointing to thought (oiêsis) by means of the oio, intellect (nous) by means of the no, and indicating observation (historia) by means of the istikê; [then,] changing the o to an ô708 in oionoistikê, i.e. to a weightier and longer and more grandiloquent vowel (stoikheion), they called all human divinatory mantic oiônistikê (‘augury’).709 On the testimony of the ancients, then, the madness that is given by the gods is as much superior to human sanity and divinatory mantic as the [one] name is superior to the [other] name, [i.e.] as that of mantic is to that of oiônistikê, and as the result achieved through [divine] madness is to the result produced through oiônistikê. One might well marvel at the fair-­mindedness (eugnômosunê) of the philosopher, at how he includes nothing more in his conclusions than what follows immediately from agreed [premisses] in accordance with geometric justice.710 (96) 3. Furthermore, when diseases and trials of the greatest sort (244D5) He has passed from mantic to telestic madness, which he says delivers both each of us individually and entire families and cities from the greatest evils, in order that, just as the internal telestic [madness] made711 our soul complete and whole so that it functions with all its powers, so too, in the same way, may external telestic [madness], delivering our soul and our body and our external circumstances from troublesome difficulties, provide us with ease and happiness in life. But how is it reasonable for descendants to pay the penalty for [the sins of] their forebears?712 Well, chiefly [because] they have inherited their estates and their gold and silver, often acquired by wrongful means, which is enough for them to incur a penalty. And then too the souls of the forbears suffer along with those of the descendants that are having a difficult time (anastrephesthai peristatikôs) [here below].713 And they [sc. the descendants] do not suffer [these] punishments undeservedly, for the person who deserves to suffer such things is led into that kind of family, since providence and the divine nature and the gods who are the guides of fate transcendently weave all things together in order and in accordance with justice. Further, a kind of unitary coherence is seen in the case of a family, for just as there comes to be a certain commonality in the case of seeds or physical

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principles (logos),714 so too does there come to be one in the case of souls and of families of a given kind and of the goods or evils that follow upon these. For just as if we were to forget our earlier life of [just] yesterday when falling asleep, it would seem to us that there are many lives in one human lifetime, even though the life in these seventy or eighty years [that we have] is continuous, so too is there in such a family a continuity which we do not see, though the gods that are the guides of fate and the daemons allocated to the families know this. As, then, in the case of an individual (heis) life a doctor does not [always] immediately cure a particular ailment by surgery but waits until the patient is ready to undergo the surgery, so too, in the case of a family, do the daemons who are the guardians of the family proceed (in the way that Herodotus relates the descendants of the Lydian paid the just penalty (dikê) [for his act] after five generations).715 From ancient wrath-­incurring deeds (mênima)716 (244D6) because sins of longstanding are more difficult to wash away (and require the telestic art and no other (monos) for their purification), whereas sins that are not so longstanding are easier to cure, as indeed we also see in the case of medicine; for if conditions are not longstanding but are of recent occurrence, then, provided a person begins to look after himself, he is more easily cured (apallattesthai) [of them], whereas once they become chronic, it is harder, for the evil becomes ensconced, as it were, in one’s nature or system and becomes like a hardened scar. It is the same with wrongs: if the person who actually does wrong immediately repents and (97) goes to the person who has been wronged and offers an apology (apologeisthai),717 then he undoes the wrong and makes himself no longer subject to a penalty. And when someone undoes a wrong [committed by his] father, by giving back a field he had seized, for instance, he both makes himself no longer subject to a penalty and unburdens and succours the soul of the person who originally seized the land (telestic also remedies these [situations] faster). If, on the other hand, it is the case that [the wrongdoer] seized the land from his [own] forebears and thereafter the whole family used it, firstly the wrong then becomes unclear718 and therefore more difficult to remedy, and secondly time as it were naturalises the evil. For this reason the gods often instruct [people] through their oracles (prophêteuein) to go to this or that place and apologise to this or that person whom they have never met, or to propitiate this or that person, in order to achieve healing and be rid of

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tribulations and cease being hounded by the furies. The gods issue [such] instructions through their oracles not so as to abrogate justice (dikê) but so that a just result (ta tês dikês) may come about and we be put back on the right course (epanorthousthai). Telestic, then, in whatever [situation] it intervenes (enginesthai), both restores the person with the madness himself and through him saves many other people as well. It is like what is told of the man who was cutting down719 the oak tree and when he was urged by the Nymph not to cut it down didn’t stop but cut it down anyway and was left (menein) hounded by furies and lacking the necessary sustenance and if anything did ever come his way it was immediately snatched away until a priest (telestês) told him to build an altar and sacrifice to the Nymph; and with that he was rid of his misfortunes.720 To another person721 who had slain his mother the god said that he should seek land other than what exists and dwell there, and he, working out that an island given by the river was meant, went and lived there and ceased being hounded by the furies. [Plato] has done well to place the purifications before the rites (244E2), for the former free us from what is alien, while the rites then set us among the gods. He says out of danger (exantês) (244E2) as equivalent to ‘purified’ (katharos) and, by way of contrast (ex enantias) to the way [the sufferer] was long (palai) pursued by furies, as equivalent to ‘safe and sound’ and ‘out of harm’s way’ (exô atês).722 (The letter n has been inserted for the sake of euphony.) 4. Third [is possession or madness] from the Muses (245A1) Third he presents this Muse-­engendered (mousikos) madness which, hymning the deeds of the ancients (245A4) and putting [their] virtues and way of life into verse, schools one’s manner of living. You should not be surprised if he says here that (98) poetry is educative while banning it elsewhere,723 for he accepts divinely-­inspired poetry but repudiates that produced by [mere] human art.724 [The] ‘possessed’ are those whom we customarily call ‘recipients’ (dokheus)725 and possession (245A2) is the kind that involves being possessed726 by a god. By a tender (245A2) [soul] he means one that is malleable and susceptible to reception of the divine, by a pure (245A2) one, one that is not warped by

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outlandish notions or infected with human nonsense. Awakening (245A3) [a soul] means releasing [it] from the burden of the body and leading [it] to the divine. Stimulating to Bacchic frenzy (245A3) should not concern us on the ground that it is a Dionysiac word. After all, the [various] kinds of inspiration are interlinked. One might also say that he wants the kinds of inspiration to depend on one another, telestic on mantic, Muse-­engendered on telestic, [and so on] and hence uses terms that are appropriate to the higher kinds [of inspiration] of those [coming] next [before them]. Hence in the case of telestic he said: madness appearing amongst them and speaking prophetically (244D7) (speaking prophetically is actually a term proper to mantic). And, again, in the case of Muse-­engendered [madness] he said stimulating to Bacchic frenzy, which is proper to telestic.727 He wants the [different] kinds of inspiration to be interconnected in this way. And he will [moreover] state explicitly in what follows (265B2–3) that telestic is the gift of Dionysus. By songs (245A3) he means the compositions of the lyric poets, by other poetry (245A3–4), epic poetry, iambic poetry, and the other types of poetry as Aristotle divides [it] in the Poetics. 5. Honouring the countless deeds of the ancients (245A4)

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The internal working of poetic madness within the soul, by attending to higher and intelligible things, gives a measure of harmony and order to inferior things, while the external[ly-­manifested] inspired poetic art for its part celebrates the deeds of the ancients and educates both its contemporaries and later generations, extending its activities in all directions. That, then, is the way of it with inspired poets. ‘But’, he says, ‘anyone who, without the inspired madness of the Muses, hopes to become an inspired poet through art [alone] will be unsuccessful in that plan and his poetry will be outdone and overshadowed by the poetry of the maddened’ (245A5–8).728 After all, what similarity is there between the poetry of Choerilus and Callimachus and that of Homer and Pindar? He was right to say that the poet who is the product of (ek) (99) human art [alone] comes to the gates of poetry (245A5–6) rather than to the gates of the Muses, for they don’t get anywhere near the gates of the Muses. The inspired poets, on the other hand, all but kick in the gates of the Muses and are thus filled [with inspiration] from that source, shouting out ‘Tell me now, Muses’

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and ‘Sing of the wrath, goddess’ and ‘Tell me, Muse, of the man’;729 for, with them [sc. the Muses] always on their lips,730 they compose the rest of the work (logos) as being filled731 [with inspiration] from that source, [i.e.] from the Muses themselves.732 One should point out – and ask why it is – that having mentioned inspired mantic and contrasted human mantic (which he calls oionistic (244C8)) with it, and, again, having mentioned inspired poetry and again contrasted human and [merely] technically skilled (tekhnikos) poetry with it, he has not done this in the case of telestic but only mentioned (ektithenai) inspired telestic; and this despite the fact that (kaitoi) in its case (ekei) too there is the human and skill-­based (tekhnikos) telestic that imitates (hupoduein)733 it [sc. imitates inspired telestic], the kind that priests employ in the cult of statues according to the usage of a city and in accordance with their own ancestral customs; and moreover enchantments and forms of worship that make use of plants and stones would also belong to technical telestic. So he either left it out because it was obvious (for it is wide-­spread in the cities), or because it does not accomplish much, or if it does accomplish [anything], accomplishes [it] by means of (kata) the original inspiration, since imitative (hupoduomenos) causes bear likenesses to the genuine causes.

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6. In addition to these [I could tell] you [of many other fine accomplishments of madness that has come from the gods] (245B1)

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Having mentioned three kinds of madness, the mantic, the telestic, and the Muse-­engendered, he has put off mentioning the erotic for now since he will talk about it later since certain [other] things needed to be established ahead of it. For because erotic [madness] wants to lead the soul up to the intelligible beauty, there was a need to talk first about the soul, and about the dance of the divine souls and about the accompanying revolution (sumperipolêsis) of, among others, our own souls, and, more pressingly, of their immortality, which he will do in what follows.734 And [only] then, after [dealing with] these [matters], will he go on to say, Our whole discourse about the fourth type of madness has, then, reached this point (249D4–5) and with this go on to talk about erotic [madness]. It is for these reasons, then, that he has remained silent here on the subject of erotic [madness].

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It is clear from [what is said] here (en toutois) that Plato knows of yet (100) other kinds of inspiration besides these four, for he says that he could also mention yet other kinds of madness that have come from the gods.735 That friendship should be to the benefit of (245B5–6) both the lover and the beloved is characteristic of divine erotic [madness]. Lysias, who loves licentiously, procures apparent benefit for himself but does great harm to his beloved, and chaste love benefits [only] the person who experiences it, but the divinely-­inspired lover produces benefit that is shared by both himself and his beloved, for he causes his beloved to revert upon himself and together they engage in the contemplation of the intelligible beauty. One should note with regard to the term good fortune (245B7) in Plato that he locates the greatest good fortune not in (epi) externals but in goods of the soul. Very surprisingly, it is said of the whole proof of the palinode that it will be unpersuasive for the clever (245C2), that is, for the captious (eristikos),736 but persuasive for the wise (245C2). In fact (gar) a part (tis) of the proofs employs premisses (lêmma)737 of a kind that will compel any man to assent [to them] like it or not (as the saying goes), as he [sc. Plato] will say738 those concerned with the immortality of the soul [do], and the other part employs premisses of a kind that will be unpersuasive for those dialecticians who are more argument-­ oriented (logikos) and captious and demand an [explicit] argument for everything that is said, but for those who are wise and understand intuitively (epiblêtikos) and need only a little reminding (anamnêsis)739 will be more persuasive than anything else at all.740 These last people are those who have also seen the immortality of their own souls, and these [arguments] are those that concern the gods.741 He will, then, establish what concerns the immortality of the soul by means of incontrovertible proofs, since he derives these proofs from the very essence of the soul. When, however, he conducts the soul up to the discourses (logos) concerning Zeus and the [other] leader-­gods and the gods and daemons and souls, both divine and human, that follow [them] and to the viewing of the intelligible beauty and to the place beyond the heavens (247C3), he no longer thinks it appropriate to demonstrate them but expresses himself categorically with regard to them as one who is truly inspired. And he will also discourse in a categorical fashion about the nine types of life, one of which the soul chooses

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when first descending from [the realm of] the intelligible. Because for these and many other similar reasons he did not think it appropriate to employ proofs of a more dialectical nature (logikos) but thought that the soul should see these things (auta) itself of its own accord, he said: The proof will certainly be unpersuasive for the clever but [will be] persuasive for the wise. Now we must first, by looking at its experiences and its activities, grasp the truth concerning the nature of soul, both divine and human (245C2–4). For since the account is about the ascent (anagôgê) to the intelligible beauty and about those who lead (anagein) and those who are led, about lovers and those they love, about those who fulfil (plêroun) and those who are fulfilled, (101) and [since] those who lead and fulfil are the gods and all the divine souls, the angelic, the daemonic, and the heroic, [all of them] desiring the divine beauty and following their leaders, and, as he says (246E4), first of all Zeus [their] leader, and those who are led, bringing up the rear (ôs en eskhatois), are the human souls, on this account he will speak of divine soul and of human soul, that is to say, of rational soul. Indeed straight after this, preliminary as it were to the proof, he indicates that our soul is immortal through being (hate) subordinated to the divine souls and having an affinity to them. As for experiences and activities (245C3–4), he will be talking of experiences involving (peri) our soul, for he will tell how it is elevated and how it sheds its wings again and falls into generation, and of activities in the case of the divine souls. Grasp the truth (245C4) is equivalent to ‘see its immortality’, for this is its essence, its nature and its truth. He has of necessity come to the establishing of the immortality of the soul, having come to it by analysis, as it were,742 as he himself will later say.743 The analysis goes something like this. Love is responsible for the greatest goods. The greatest of [all] goods is true happiness (eudaimonia). True happiness is becoming like a god.744 We become like a god by being in contact with the same things. We come into contact with the same things by gazing upon the intelligible beauty. And while here [on earth] we see this by recollecting it. It is the person who once saw [it] who recollects [it]. And we once saw [it] if our soul is immortal. So we must as a matter of priority prove precisely this: that the soul is immortal. For unless it is immortal the arguments that follow are all beside the point and of no value. For how will it even be elevated if it is mortal?

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But if it is immortal, it once gazed upon and thus recollects the intelligible beauty. And so it is in contact with the same things as the gods. Therefore it becomes like them. And so it is truly happy and acquires the greatest goods. It is just these that divine and elevating love secures for it. Hence, by in a sense employing the analytic method,745 he has come to establish the immortality of the soul first, and having proved this, constructs everything that follows. You might also analyse [it] more concisely as follows. It is open to the inspired lover to direct his beloved up to the intelligible and truly real beauty. He will achieve this if he reminds him of that [beauty] by means of beautiful things here [below]. He reminds him if he shows his soul is immortal. For it is the person who once saw who recollects; somebody who never saw does not recollect. And so he will of necessity first talk about the immortality of the soul – not of all [soul], not of that of an ant for example, but, as he said, of divine and human (245C3) [soul]. (102) 7. The beginning of the proof is this (245C4)

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This is not the beginning of the entire demonstration of the palinode per se, for he earlier said of the actual beginning of the palinode that it would be unpersuasive for the clever but persuasive for the wise; rather this is the beginning of the demonstration concerning the immortality of soul. Is he not then calling the conclusion of the proof its beginning?746 Yes. In the first place the conclusion is also in a way the beginning of what leads up to (ta pros) the conclusion. But [even more to the point] he is showing that immortality is [present] in the very essence of the soul and that the whole proof is contained in a concentrated and unified manner in the conclusion.747 8. All soul is immortal (245C5)748

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First one must ask what kind of soul the argument is about. For some have thought the argument is only about the [soul] of the cosmos because [here] he has said all [soul] and a little later added or the whole heaven and all generation would collapse and come to a stop (245D8–9). One of those [of this opinion] is the Stoic Posidonius.749 Others [have believed it is about] all [soul] tout court, including that of an ant or a fly. One of these is Harpocration,750 since he

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understands all of (epi) every soul.751 But if one must neither entirely narrow [the focus of] the question nor simply extend it to all living creatures, we shall determine from Plato himself what kind of soul he is currently talking about. In fact [Plato] himself has declared that he must first talk about the nature of soul, both divine and human (245C2–4), that is, about all rational soul. And so the present argument concerns the rational soul. And, besides, what the ancients customarily call ‘soul’ in the strict sense is the rational soul. What is above it [sc. rational soul] they call ‘intellect’ and what is inferior to it, not simply ‘soul’ but ‘irrational soul’ or ‘a mortal form of soul’ or ‘a second trace of life’ or ‘irrational life’, or ‘animation of the pneuma’ or ‘life in the region of bodies’ and the like;752 and [what they call] ‘soul’ specifically and properly speaking is the rational [soul]. And in fact he calls the rational soul the human being in the true sense.753 So, in summary, the argument is about all rational soul. And he has announced the conclusion in advance because he is going to produce his proofs from the per se properties of soul and [soul] as such (hêi auto). On this account, then, he placed the conclusion before [the proof], thereby indicating that ‘the because’ (to dioti) is (103) contained in a condensed form (sunespeiramenôs) in ‘the that’ (to hoti) itself;754 for it is, again, from its essence that the soul possesses immortality. So before the expanded and discursive (diêirêmenos) and developed proof he has placed [a version] that is condensed and contains ‘the because’ along with ‘the that’.755 There are two demonstrative arguments here, by which the immortality of the soul is proved using direct proofs, and one other [that proves it] by reductio ad absurdum. But why are there such a number of arguments? He certainly does not simply want to present a multitude of arguments (otherwise he would have employed many others, as in the Phaedo), but clearly uses [arguments] in a manner appropriate to each work. At present, as we said, he is drawing his arguments from the essence and per se properties of the soul. And I maintain that, given that the task is to show that the soul is immortal, if we know how many modes of destruction there are and show that the soul is not destroyed through any of them we will also have shown that it is incorruptible and indestructible, and [so] clearly immortal. Now everything that is destroyed is destroyed in [one of] two ways: either by itself, on account of the matter in it, or from without. For instance, a log, even if it just lies around, is destroyed by the rot within it (for it has the cause

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of its destruction within itself, in the way that Plato said756 in the Republic that everything that perishes perishes by its own particular evil), or [else is destroyed] from without, since it can be consumed by fire or sawn up by someone. Since, then, there are two modes of destruction, for that reason two arguments are also deployed. One shows that the soul does not perish from within itself, which he shows from [its] self-­motion and [its] perpetual motion, the other that it does not through [any] other agency either, which he shows from its being a source of motion. So is it the case that each of them [sc. the arguments] is incomplete [on its own] and completeness comes to the proof [as a whole] from both [of them together], or is each of them contained in the other but [with] the particular character of each apparent [in one of them]?757 For what is not destroyed by its own agency (hupo) may not be destroyed by (hupo) anything else either. For since it has within itself, and always present to it, the means of its preserving itself, could it ever be destroyed by anything else? (This, as will be shown (117,1–3), is the nature of the self-­moved.) And [as for] what is not destroyed by anything else but is the principle (arkhê) and cause of the preserving of other things – how could such a thing be destroyed by its own agency? (The principle of motion will be shown to be such; for it is not destroyed through the agency of the things above it, being in fact preserved by them, nor through the agency of the things below (meta) it, since it is the cause of their existing and having life.) (104) If, then, it is destroyed by nothing, how, being a source (pêgê) of life, could it destroy itself? And so, as we said, each of the arguments (logos) is complete in itself, since it also contains within itself the other, and the one is identified (ekphainein) and characterised by the [proposition] that [the soul] is not destroyed by its own agency, the other by the [proposition] that it is not destroyed by anything else either. Let us first set out the actual premisses of the arguments in isolation in [their logical] sequence, since Plato has presented them in a scattered fashion. The first [of the two arguments], then, goes like this. The soul is self-­moved; that which is self-­moved is in perpetual motion; that which is in perpetual motion is immortal; therefore the soul is immortal. This argument, then, will show us that [the soul] is not destroyed by its own agency. [And the second like this.]758 The soul is self-­moved; that which is self-­moved is a source of motion; the source of motion is ungenerated; that which is ungenerated is imperishable;

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that which is imperishable is immortal; therefore the soul is immortal. This argument will show us that that the soul is not destroyed by anything else either. We shall discuss the truth of these premisses (lêmma) in detail below when we explicate the text (rhêton). For the present, let us, discussing in isolation the first, and shared, premiss of the two arguments (the one that goes ‘the soul is self-­moved’), which Plato will place last in the whole proof, ask with regard to the self-­moved in what manner it is the first of things that move, since a man of no little consequence [sc. Aristotle] has disputed its very existence.759 And perhaps [common ground] will be discovered where the philosophers do not even disagree.760 For Aristotle for his part confuted all corporeal motions of the soul – which we too claim is very much in accord with the truth – while Plato clearly declared that the motions of the soul are other than all the corporeal motions. For in the tenth book of the Laws he says:761 Well then, soul [stirs] all things in the heaven, on earth and in the sea with its own motions, [motions] whose names are wishing, reflecting, attending, deliberating, forming opinions, correct or incorrect, rejoicing, grieving, being confident, fearing, hating, loving.762 That there is a principle of motion and that this [principle] is the self-­moved is clear from the following. Since it is evident that the other-­moved763 exists, either this other-­moved will in its turn be moved by another [thing] that is itself other-­moved, and that too by another other-­moved thing, and so on to infinity, or the other-­moved things will move one another in a circle so that the first is in its turn moved by the last, or, if neither of these modes [of moving] can exist, the self-­moved must come first. That the movers (kinoun) do (105) not proceed to infinity is evident, for the infinite does not exist in reality (en ousiâi) and nor is there [any] knowledge of it. And nor can the movers go [round] (ienai)764 in a circle, for the order of things will be destroyed and the same thing will be both cause and caused. And so there must be a principle of motion and motions cannot go [on] to infinity or [round] in a circle. Now this principle of change, which according to both the philosophers is the soul, Plato says is ‘self-­moved’ and Aristotle ‘unmoved’.765 And that this principle of motion is inevitably (dei) shown to be self-­moved from Aristotle’s own doctrines too,766 you may learn from the following. In all existing things nature does not move immediately from opposite to opposite, from winter to

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summer, for instance, but the mean (mesotês) must in every case come first, at one time spring, at another autumn. It is thus for all things, both corporeal and incorporeal.767 And so here too, since there is the other-­moved and also the unmoved, there must also be the mean (meson), which is the self-­moved, which is one and the same both in number and in substrate.768 (What Aristotle calls self-­moved, i.e. the living creature, is not what is currently under discussion; for it is because the living creature is in his view composed of the unmoved and the other-­moved that he says that the whole is self-­moved.) And so, given that there is the absolutely unmoved, i.e. the principle of all things, and that there is also the other-­moved, i.e. bodies, there will also be the self-­moved in between, which will be nothing other than soul. For we say that anything that we see moving by itself is ensouled, because this, [I mean] moving itself,769 is the nature of soul. So just as there are according to Aristotle too these three, intellect, life, being, and, to talk of being first, while there is something that comes into being through something else and receives its being from something else, there is [also] something that furnishes itself with being, i.e. the heaven and the intellects, [both of] which he himself says770 are, like [all] things that always exist, ungenerated by any other cause (for he does not want them to have been generated causally any more than temporally, but, inasmuch as they always exist, to be ungenerated and the cause of being for themselves);771 and, again, [to talk] of life, while there are things that get (106) life from other things (for man – and [the] sun – begets man),772 there are [also] things that have life from themselves, as do, again, the heaven and the intellect (for [he says] the life they possess is not of external origin but connatural773 (sumphuês)); and, again, [to talk] of intellect, while there are things that get intellection (to noein) from other things and become intellectual, like the potential intellect on its own, there is [also] the active intellect, which has intellection from itself and intelligises itself; in just the same way, while there is something that is moved by something else, there must also be something that is the cause of movement for itself and supplies itself with it. And besides, it is irrational to go from the other-­moved to the totally unmoved without referring to (paralambanein) the self-­moved in between – just as it is irrational to move from what comes to be and exists at a particular time (pote) to the not-­being above being without referring to being in between; for it will be unclear which not-­being we are

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referring to – the kind that is inferior to what comes to be or the kind that is superior to it – unless what is in between is mentioned (paralambanein), i.e. that which always is (to aei on). And likewise with motion. It will be unclear which unmoved we are referring to – the kind that is inferior to the other-­ moved or the kind that is superior to it – unless the self-­moved has been mentioned in between. And the same applies for life and intellect and the rest. And anyway this self-­moved motion has been proved by the philosopher in the Laws774 too to be the first of all motions and the origin of all others and [their] cause in all senses of ‘cause’; for it is their efficient, their paradigmatic, and their final cause. (These are the only causes in the true sense, for the formal cause is in the effect itself and is the effect itself and the material cause is much further still from being a cause in the true sense since it has the status of a sine qua non.) That the self-­moved is the efficient cause of the other motions is evident, as he himself demonstrates in the Laws. For should everything come to a stop, he says, what will be the first thing to move?775 Clearly it will be the self-­moved. For if what is in proximity to the cause of motion is moved, everything [else]776 evidently being other-­moved, and the self-­moved having the source of motion (to kinêtikon) in itself and not simply being in proximity to it but one with it, or, better, having motion as its essence, it is clear that it [sc. the self-­moved], having moved777 first, will move everything else. For just as, if the sun did not set and rise but were immobile, (107) we would have puzzled as to what was the cause of such great light, and, further, if, while being invisible itself, it was the source of illumination (kataugazein), we would have puzzled even more, so too is it with the soul, [which], because it is, while being invisible, the cause of all motions, has caused us much puzzlement. Just, then, as the sun, which illuminates everything [else], a fortiori renders itself bright, so too does the soul, which moves everything [else], a fortiori move itself; for each thing begins its activity with (apo) itself. You will also find that the motions of the soul are paradigmatic of the corporeal motions. Let us get a grasp of (lambanein) the corporeal motions. These are eight in number [and] are passive rather than active. [They are] generation and destruction, growth and diminution, locomotion (phora) and circular motion, combination and separation. Now, there is growth in the soul when, devoting itself to better things, it multiplies its intellections, and

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diminution when, departing from that place [sc. the intelligible realm], it becomes weaker than itself and more inactive in its intellections. And again, we call ‘generation’ its [sc. the soul’s] ascent from this place, and ‘destruction’ its final fall from the intelligible.778 And we would call all-­inclusive (athroos) intellection or the contemplation of [all] the forms at once ‘combination’, and ‘separation’ more particular intellection or contemplation by single forms (kat’ eidos hen). [And we would call] ‘locomotion’ its [sc. the soul’s] motion in a straight line or [down] into [the realm of] generation and ‘circular motion’ the circulation (periodos) or unfolding of the forms (eidôn)779 and their return to the same [position] (apokatastasis). Now one might more fittingly assign circular motion to the divine souls and locomotion to our own, but you may see both motions even in the divine souls, for, he says,780 taking [them in this] straight [formation], the Demiurge bent them into a circle. So it is clear that the circular bending, or intellection, of souls is not without straightness, for he assigns purely circular movement to the intellect alone. And [finally] the ninth type of motion, which is that of incorporeals in the sphere of bodies, such as instances of heating [or] cooling and of animation (empsukhia), have their paradigmatic cause in the soul inasmuch as the soul gives life to bodies.781 We have drawn sufficient attention to the fact that the motions of the souls are also paradigmatic causes of the corporeal [motions] so it remains to show that they are also final [causes], since even the serious and (108) sensible man here below (entautha), for his own advantage (khrêsimon) 782 because (dioti); for immortality is not predicated of the soul as something other [than it], but inheres in its very essence and unitarily embraces the entire proof; for immortality is a kind of life, as self-­motion also is. Next (loipon) he adds the proof in an explicit and expanded form783 with the words: for that which is in perpetual motion is immortal, etc. (245C5), omitting to call the soul ‘self-­moved’ as being a common [premiss]784 of the two arguments [but] with the intention of including it at the end of the two arguments, where we shall scrutinise it more closely.785 But now, ahead of our detailed scrutiny of the premisses, let us fit Plato’s actual statements (rhêma) to the premisses in a logical fashion. The premisses of the argument are in all three: the soul is self-­moved; the self-­moved is in perpetual motion; what is in perpetual motion is immortal, that is to say, imperishable and immortal.786 The first premiss, and the narrowest

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(elakhistos) of all, the one that says ‘the soul is self-­moved’, he will, as we said, place last (245E7), and the third, and wider (meizôn) than all [the rest], as being the one that holds the whole argument together, he has put first (245C5), in the words for that which is in perpetual motion is immortal. The one after it, the one that states ‘the self-­moved is in perpetual motion’, he has introduced by means of the opposite, the other-­moved, along with a proof, in the words: but that which moves another thing and is [itself] moved by another thing (i.e. the other-­moved), having an end (paula) to its motion (i.e. not being in perpetual motion), has an end to its life (i.e. (109) is not immortal) (245C5–7). If, then, the other-­moved, not being in perpetual motion, is not immortal, the self-­ moved, being in perpetual motion, is immortal. All the premisses are taken in isolation (kath’ hauto) and as they are in themselves. By means of the other-­ moved he shows not only that the self-­moved is in perpetual motion but also that that which is in perpetual motion is self-­moved, so that they reciprocate – viz. ‘the self-­moved is that which is in perpetual motion’ and ‘that which is in perpetual motion is the self-­moved’. For if that which is moved by another thing has an end to its motion, (that is, the other-­moved is not in perpetual motion), it should be evident that that which is in perpetual motion is self-­moved. For this is obtained by the second of the hypotheticals,787 because if the other-­ moved is not in perpetual motion, clearly that which is in perpetual motion is not other-­moved; and that which is not other-­moved is self-­moved. And from inasmuch as it cannot desert itself (245C7–8) [one obtains] that it is also the case that everything that is in perpetual motion is self-­moved. For if even the other-­moved is moved as long as it is with the cause of [its] motion (for while it is near it it is moved), the self-­moved, which is not only always with itself but also one with (henoun) itself, will a fortiori be in perpetual motion. Starting again from the beginning, let us make each of the premisses as clear as possible. ‘The soul is self-­moved’. The motion here is to be understood as its life. So the soul is self-­vivifying (autozôos), having the principle and source of life within itself. For if nature had wanted bodies too to be self-­moved, it would have placed a principle and source of motion in them. As it is, since there was also need for other-­moved things to emanate (proerkhesthai), bodies have come into being getting the principle of motion from other things. And the soul manifestly makes many decisions and acts on the basis of its own decision. It would not have this [capacity] if it were not self-­moved.

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And anyway (homôs), when you look at the nature of the matter, a great abundance of arguments will become evident to you because of the self-­ evidence of the matter. And Plato himself amply draws our attention [to it] by means of [this same] self-­evidence and the things [he mentions] at the end [of the argument], when he says that any body that we see is unable to move by itself we at once describe as inanimate, and any body that we see is able to move by itself we at once describe as animate, since we spontaneously (autophuôs) judge that self-­motion is the form and principle (logos) (245E2–6) of the soul. Above all you may demonstrate the self-­movement of the soul from what lies within our control (to eph’ hêmin).788 For if existing well is better and more perfect than [just] existing, and if the soul perfects itself, clearly furnishing itself with what is better and (110) awakening and perfecting itself, it a fortiori furnishes itself with what is inferior. But its existence is nothing other than its life. And life is motion. So it is clear that it will furnish itself with motion. [And] therefore it is self-­moved. ‘It furnishes other things with life, much more so itself ’, say789 the Oracles; for that which animates (zôopoiein) [all] other things a fortiori does this for itself. And so, furnishing itself with life, it animates and elevates itself. But life is motion. Therefore it supplies itself with motion. Therefore it is self-­moved. For divine things and the first givers of a thing begin with themselves, in the way that the sun, which illuminates all things, is light itself and the source of light. So the soul too, supplying life and self-­motion to other things (for according to Aristotle living creatures are self-­ moved),790 is a fortiori self-­moved itself, and life and [the] source of psychic life. That the self-­moved is in perpetual motion is proved as follows – and he also shows both that the self-­moved alone is in perpetual motion and that it alone is immortal, taking his premisses from [its nature] ‘in itself ’ and ‘qua itself ’. That the self-­moved is in perpetual motion he shows by way of the other-­moved. For the other-­moved clearly does not have its own motion from within itself – which is why it is called ‘other-­moved’ – so since it has received this [motion] from elsewhere [at some point] in time it also loses it [at some point] in time. And a thing that of its essence supplies itself with motion in that it is always present to itself and is itself [both] what gives and what receives [that motion], will be in perpetual motion. And Plato makes it clear that he uses ‘motion’ for ‘life’, since he says having an end to its motion, it also has an end to its life (245C6–7).

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That the other-­moved has an end to its motion (i.e. is not in perpetual motion) is also clear from the following. There being these two, the mover and the moved, either the mover must approach the moved and move it in that way, as we do a stone, for example, or the moved must approach the mover and be moved in that way, as the soul, approaching the intellect, is in consequence moved by it and contemplates what is within it, or both [must] approach one another,791 as do the teacher and the pupil, for the pupil gives himself over to being awakened by the teacher and the teacher is eager to awaken the pupil and is entirely focused on him. These being [the possibilities], the other-­moved cannot bring itself to the mover; (111) for the fact that it is other-­moved, i.e. 792. And nor therefore [can] the combination [of the other two possibilities occur]. It remains therefore that if the other-­moved is to be in perpetual motion the source of motion (to kinêtikon) is oriented (strephein) to it. But in [the realm of] whole and everlasting things it is not lawful for superior things to be oriented to their inferiors. For [in that case] the superior things will exist for the sake of something else and the inferior be that for whose sake [they exist], which is quite ridiculous. Therefore the other-­ moved will not be in perpetual motion in that way, since the everlasting things are not oriented to it. But if it is ever going to be moved, it must be brought to the cause of motion by something else, not just positionally but in regard to readiness as well. So if something else has joined it to the cause of motion from some point in time, a particular revolution [of the heavens] and particular configurations [of the stars], for example, it will also be the case that at some time a particular revolution and particular configurations will again unloose it from the cause of motion. For, to put it simply, all things that come to be from moving causes both come to be and perish in time, while those that come to be from unmoving causes are always just the same (aei hôsautôs). But how is it, someone might ask, that the sublunary [region] is always in motion if it is other-­moved? Well, it is never always the same and does not remain numerically the same except in form. And so, if it is not identical in substrate, how could it be in perpetual motion? For, perishing in its parts, it remains always the same [only] in form. And how, if generation, being other-­ moved, cannot bring itself to the heaven and if the heaven is not oriented to generation because superior things must not be oriented to inferior things, does generation get its readiness anywhere at all? The reply to this is that the

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motion of the heaven, being an active factor, works on things below the moon without the heavens being oriented to them, just as the sun illuminates not by being oriented to the things that are illuminated but through sympathy.793 But how is it that the heaven, being corporeal (sôma), is not other-­moved but self-­moved? And if it is [actually] other-­moved, how is it [that it is] in perpetual motion? Well, the heaven is neither other-­moved nor simply corporeal, but immaterial body. And we shall say that the self-­moved is two-­ fold, one kind simple and without parts, which is self-­moved in the strict sense, the other already advanced into extension, but not simply so, for insofar as it is extended, it has to that extent deviated from the truly self-­moved, but insofar as it has partaken of connatural life in its essence so that you cannot even notionally separate this latter kind of body and its life, to that extent it has self-­ motion too in its own essence; for self-­motion was [we saw] (112) a property of soul and of life. Just then as it is impossible for you to conceive of a material body as colourless and shapeless, even so, and yet more so, is it impossible for you to conceive of the heavenly body as lifeless and soulless. And thus you may see its natural union (sumphuia) with soul. Indeed it is always the case that the summits (akrotês) of secondary things are connected with the lowest parts of primary things in order that there be a kind of continuity and no void between them, since [otherwise] reason will require yet another entity (phusis) to fill the [gap] between them.794 Since then the ethereal body is the first among bodies and soul is the last of the intelligibles, they must be connected to one another and bear a resemblance to each other, with the consequence that the heavenly body is extended soul and life that is distributed to everything (epi pan). So [the] life in it is connatural [with it] and its nature is interfused with life and there are also very many other kinds of living creatures in it. Well, let the soul be both self-­moved and in perpetual motion, he795 says, but [only] as long as soul exists, and nothing prevents it from perishing. To this we will say that either its activity, i.e. its self-­motion, stops first and its existence ceases (phtheiresthai) subsequently, or its existence first and its movement subsequently, or both at once; there are no [possibilities] apart from these. Well, one cannot even imagine its activity being maintained when its substance has been destroyed. And nor is the converse possible on the present hypothesis, [namely,] for its substance to be preserved after its activity has ceased and

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[only] subsequently perish. Someone who says this appears to be someone who has forgotten the hypothesis796 ‘[only] as long as [soul] exists’; for the hypothesis went ‘as long as soul exists it will be self-­moved’, and so it is impossible for self-­motion to cease and soul survive, since as long as soul exists it will be self-­moved, according to the hypothesis. So if everything that perishes first loses its activity, but this, being self-­moved, does not lose it ‘as long as it exists’ (as the hypothesis also has it), [then] it is also imperishable. Well then, let someone advance the third [possibility] – that it is destroyed along with its activities. We shall at once ask whether this is at its own hands or by something external. Well it is not destroyed by itself given that it actually preserves itself by moving itself. And it is not destroyed by external [agencies], for then it would be other-­moved rather than self-­moved. Therefore it is not destroyed along with [its activities]. And by what could it be destroyed? By superior [agencies]? But these are rather such as to preserve it. By inferior [agencies] then? But it is their mistress and the source of their motions; for while there are ten motions, the motion of the soul alone is what generates all the rest. That the soul, being self-­moved, is also in perpetual motion you may establish more concisely as follows, as we have already done (eirêkenai)797 (113) in the case of self-­motion (autokinêsia): that which perfects itself also creates (paragein) itself.798 For that which perfects a thing furnishes that [thing] with the good; that which simply creates a thing, on the other hand, [only] furnishes it with existence. But existing well is better than [just] existing. Since, then, the soul perfects itself, it will, if anything is within its power, also create itself. But its essence is to live, seeing that it actually confers this [sc. life] on other things too. Therefore it furnishes itself with life and existence. And anything that always co-­exists with what furnishes existence always exists. But the soul always co-­exists with itself. Therefore the soul always exists. And so it is always both self-­moved and in perpetual motion. And indeed anything in the universe would be truly wronged if deprived of what it had furnished itself with; for if it receives799 something from another, it is not done an injustice if it is deprived of it, but if it provides itself with something, it is done an injustice if it is deprived of it by another. The last premiss – that what is in perpetual motion is immortal (245C5) – requires no argument. For if it were ex hypothesi something mortal and corruptible, it would no longer be something that was in perpetual motion.

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And so all the premisses are not only true but all in themselves such that they are coextensive (exisazein) and convertible.800 ‘Well then’, someone may say, ‘is only the soul immortal? Isn’t the intellect then immortal?’ Well, it is not at all absurd to say that the intellect is not immortal. It is above being immortal. If you do want to call it immortal, you will be assuming a different kind of self-­motion and a different kind of immortality – and likewise, appropriately (oikeiôs) to each, in the case of the living beings next in order [after the rational soul], since one would also call the irrational [part of the soul]801 ‘immortal’,802 just as one would also call it ‘self-­moved’, but in each case, as we have [just] said, in its own fashion (oikeiôs). For the range of things that exist in eternity or through all time or for a part of time is great; some live for one day, some for a year, some for ten years, and there are others that live through a hundred or even a thousand years. But how is it that particular nature too, being self-­moved, will not be immortal? Well, in the first place one should be aware that the divine Iamblichus and the philosopher Porphyry803 do not even call particular nature self-­moved but say that, being an instrument of soul, it is first (men) moved by it and then (de) moves bodies; and they say that this last is ‘the ninth motion’.804 And it is clear that even if it does have something of the self-­moved it has it by reflection (eidôlikôs) and as an instrument. And if one must say something in contradiction of some of the philosophers, nature is not even superior to corporeal things in all respects but in a way actually inferior.805 (114) For inasmuch as it is incorporeal substance and inasmuch as it moulds and arranges (kosmein) bodies, it is superior to them, but inasmuch as they serve as substrates for it806 and it has its being in them, it is inferior to them – just as the reflection in mirrors excels the mirror in steadiness, in beauty and in precision of articulation, but is in a sense inferior in its mode of being (hupostasis). After all, the mirror is more substantial while the image gets even its existence as an image (to eidôlikôs einai) from the mirror and in a sense exists thanks to it, and on that account would be more ill-­defined (amudros) [than it]. So that is how particular nature too stands in relation to body; for divine [nature], as we said,807 also has self-­motion in a secondary manner and is connatural with divine body. By this argument, then, it is shown that the soul is not destroyed by itself. And this is certainly not surprising in the soul because it is not the case that a

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part of it only moves and a part of it is only moved, but every part of it, whichever you take, both moves and is moved in just the same way. But one would like to understand yet more clearly what the movement in soul is. That it is not any of the corporeal motions or the ninth [motion]808 is clear, for these are not self-­initiated (autokinêtos). And nor do all of its own [motions] – for instance, wishes, opinions, fits of anger, desires – exhibit the motion in question, since it is not always in motion with respect to these and we are looking for the [motion] that is always present to it. Well this [motion that we are seeking] is the life which is connatural to it, which it bestows upon itself and through which it moves. These [other motions] too, I mean wishes and opinions and the like, are types of life (zôai) and motions of [the soul]; but they are not always present to it, but [only] sometimes, by recurrence (ex anadiplôseôs), as it were. But above all it is from the soul’s perfecting itself that you may grasp its self-­motion and thereby separate the rational soul from the non-­rational and from nature. For it is [characteristic] of the rational soul to perfect itself and awaken itself and turn (epistrephein) itself towards itself, [behaviour] which is not a property of anything else, and on this reading it makes sense (harmozein) for him to say about both divine and human soul (245C2–3), that is, about all rational [soul] and not about irrational [soul] and nature. 9. But this is also the source and principle of motion for the other things that are moved. But a principle is something that is ungenerated, etc. (245C8–D1)

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As a second argument he sets out [a proof] that the soul is immortal. It goes 5 like this: (115) The soul is self-­moved; the self-­moved is a principle of motion; the principle of motion is something that is ungenerated; the ungenerated is imperishable,809 the imperishable immortal; therefore the soul is immortal. The premisses are five in all. The one that is narrower (elattôn)810 than all [the rest], the one common to both [arguments], he will set forth811 after this, and we have dealt with812 [it] adequately. The fourth and the fifth he will establish813 himself, and Aristotle has adequately established them in the de 10 Caelo.814 Most of our discussion will concern the second and third. The first of the arguments to be propounded demonstrated the self-­ sufficiency of soul, this second one its generosity (ekteneia)815 – in the way indeed that all divine things are self-­sufficient and generous (ektenês). (A

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generous thing is one that shares its own [assets] with other things. This is characteristic of [their] boniform and unstinting nature and of the overflowing plenitude (to huperplêres) of [their] power.) This argument, then, is intended to show in the case of the soul too its generosity toward other things. The premiss that states ‘the self-­moved is the principle of motion’ has been adequately established by him [sc. Plato] in the Laws816 with the [statement] ‘if everything were to come to a stop’, self-­moved things would be the first to move. And the order of things is this: first the unmoved, second the self-­moved, third the other-­moved (there being a great range to be seen in each of these),817 and so the self-­moved is first [among] and [the] principle of the things that are moved. ‘The principle’, he says, ‘is ungenerated’, that is to say, the principle of motion, since that is what is in question; however, making the premiss more general, he extends it to every principle, because every principle qua principle is ungenerated. At this point many of the older [commentators]818 were confused as to the sense in which Plato said that the principle is ‘something that is ungenerated’. If he is talking about the principle of all things, that is to say, about the first god, the statement is true but the discussion of it is not the matter currently in hand. And if he is talking about every principle tout court, how is the statement true? Peleus, for instance, was the origin (arkhê)819 of Achilles. And Peleus certainly wasn’t ungenerated. So let’s see what kind of principle he is talking about. We shall declare that a principle properly speaking is what first creates (paragein) the species as a whole, as ‘the equal-­itself ’,820 for instance, creates the various equal things and ‘man-­himself ’ creates men everywhere. In this way, then, since the soul too is principle of motion, it could produce all the species of motion and cause (116) change (metaballein) of place or quality, in a word every kind of motion.821 And so it will not be generated qua motion, or if it is, comes to be in the way substance (ousia) or intellect do from being (on) and Intellect but qua motion does not come to be. For it is itself the principle of all the motions. For if even the enmattered forms are ungenerated, e.g. that of man, that of horse, that of equal, that of motion, much more so is the cause of the species; and so, since even the species of motion is ungenerated, much more so is the cause of motion itself; and this is the self-­moved. He has done well to call it source and principle (245C9), for it is characteristic of a source to as it were share what is its own spontaneously (autophuôs) with

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things that are other than itself and of a principle822 to be as it were set over and the master of the things under it. For it is a principle inasmuch as it is on the same level as (suntassein) the things of which it is the principle, a source inasmuch as it is transcendent and situated in Intellect, both of which are features of soul. It would have been easy to avoid difficulties by expressing it in this fuller form: ‘the principle of motion is ungenerated’. For generation is a motion, and the principle of motion will not be moved from outside (allakhothen)823 [itself] if we are not to continue (trekhein) to infinity, and so is not generated either. While, then, it was possible to avoid [difficulties] by making a statement as brief as this, he chose not to but simply said but a principle is something that is ungenerated, thereby prolonging our contemplation [of the issues involved].824 We shall understand the ungeneratedness of the principle like this. The principle does not become any of the things of which it is the principle. For instance, the sun is the principle of light, [and] therefore is not itself illuminated from elsewhere, and the Intellect, being the principle of intellection and being itself intellective, does not have intellection from elsewhere, [thereby only] becoming intellective; and being is the cause of everything else being without itself having being from elsewhere. And therefore soul too is the cause of everything else being animated and having life, but does not itself have life from elsewhere. And so too, if it is the primary motion, it will be the cause of everything else being moved, but will not itself be moved from elsewhere. And so every principle is ungenerated. Well, what if someone were to ask: Don’t all things have their being from the first cause? Well, first, someone who assumes a principle should not be looking at any of the things above it (for he will no longer be retaining it as a principle), but should, having assumed that it is a principle, be looking at it and the things below it. And then, in reply to the person who derives everything from the first principle, one should also say that a principle is, [though] in a different way, the same kind of thing as the things [that derive] from it; for if it is [the] equal itself, it generates other secondary equals, and the motion of the soul produces other kinds of motion. The first cause, on the other hand, is not the same kind of thing as the things [that derive] from it [even] in a different way, for it is above (117) a principle and above a cause.

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Intellect, then, is intellective first [and only] from itself, but becomes a thing that has being (on), say, from elsewhere (allakhothen). And the just (to dikaion) is in the first instance from justice-­itself (autodikaiosunê) and the right (dikê), but the right itself or justice-­itself (to autodikaion) is not made just (dikaioun) from elsewhere. Insofar as it is right (dikê) and insofar as it keeps things on the right path it originates (arkhesthai)825 from itself; however, from another perspective, it is not prevented from being produced from elsewhere, becoming a thing that has being, say, or an intellect or a particular god from the principle of all things.826 Plato has implicitly (sunespeiramenôs) made the very point that if a principle comes into being, it will, because it is ex hypothesi a principle, come into being from a non-­principle. Let us put it thus: Every principle is what is said to exist primitively (prôtôs); nothing generated exists primitively (for everything generated comes to be from another thing); therefore no principle is generated. For if everything that comes to be comes to be from some principle, the principle too, if it came to be, would come to be from some principle, and so the principle would have need of a principle to be generated, and this [would be so] to infinity. Everything that comes to be comes to be from something not the same (ou toioutos) [as itself] – an animal from a non-­animal, a house from a non-­house – and so a principle too, if it came to be, would come to be from a non-­principle. It would therefore simultaneously come to be from a principle qua something that is generated, and from a non-­principle qua principle, which is impossible. Therefore everything that is the first to be something, that is, every principle, is ungenerated. This would have sufficed as proof of the imperishability of principles, but he adds yet another [proof] using reductio ad impossibile. ‘If a principle is destroyed’, he says, ‘neither will anything else be generated from it nor it from anything else’ (245D4–6).827 Because all that comes to be comes to be from a principle, obviously nothing else would come to be from it, for the principle has perished. And it would not itself come to be again, because what comes to be again comes to be from some principle and the principle has itself perished. Just as when the root itself has been grubbed out no sprouting takes place, so, he says, when the principle of motion is destroyed, the whole heaven and [all of] generation collapses and comes to a stop and no longer has anything to be generated from (245D4–5, D8–E2).

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The next premiss, the one that states that the ungenerated is imperishable, Aristotle too has demonstrated828 in excellent fashion, and you can gain a succinct understanding of his proof from the following: If what is ungenerated perishes, either all things will, unperceived,829 have become perishable, or it will be restored again, and something will have made its way from the perishables to the ungenerated, and thus the generated (118) will be ungenerated; for should the ungenerated be perishable, and the perishable is generated, the ungenerated will be generated, which is impossible. Plato, however, taking both together, has shown [this] at one stroke. For if the principle comes to be or perishes, all things [will] have to perish along with it, and thus there will be neither heaven nor [realm of] generation. But that would not happen. This whole – ‘the principle is ungenerated [and] imperishable’830 – has, then, been proved.

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Notes 1 ‘Sent down’ is a little surprising. The normal Platonist position is that souls choose their earthly lives entirely on their own and that they alone are responsible for the consequences (cf. 71,4–6) and there is nothing in the many references to Socrates’ mission to suggest that it is other than completely voluntary. However, much is certainly made of Socrates’ mission and he is variously described as the protector of the young (13,13) and of Phaedrus in particular (15,24), as exercising godlike and providential care in relation to the young (35,8–9 and cf. 26,15), and as a healer and purger or doctor of the soul (19,3–5; 23,21–2). This in fact was the standard view of Socrates in later Neoplatonism and is particularly evident in the commentaries of Proclus and Olympiodorus on Alcibiades 1. In the case of the present passage, Tarrant (2014, 143–4) plausibly suggests that Hermias is inviting comparison with Christ and his mission. For discussion of these and related themes, see Layne and Tarrant 2014, especially the introduction and the contributions of Roskam, Manolea, and Ambury. 2 Given that Hermias refers to the same part of the Symposium a number of times elsewhere, Lucarini and Moreschini are probably right to refer to Symposium 210C for epitêdeumata; cf. too 210D and 211C. 3 sc. he takes a different approach to setting them on the path to philosophy. Here in the Phaedrus, for example, he takes advantage of Phaedrus’ enthusiasm for philosophy, while in Alcibiades 1 (which the Neoplatonists along with many modern scholars take to be by Plato) he makes Alcibiades’ political ambitions his starting point. 4 Presumably figures such as Hippias, Protagoras, and Thrasymachus, although it isn’t always clear in what sense Socrates is of benefit to them. (At 42,9.22 Lysias is described as a ‘sophist’ and at 84,31–85,3 it is suggested that Phaedrus will ‘elevate’ Lysias by passing on Socrates’ advice to him, so perhaps Hermias has Lysias in mind too.) 5 The phrase is Homeric (Iliad 15.371; 24.506; Odyssey 9.527; 17.366), although ‘hand’ occurs in the singular there and is actually in the plural here. In Homer it is used in the context of supplication or prayer and there may be something of that here (cf. Manolea 2014, 74). On the other hand, it could be metaphorical for welcoming (‘opening his arms’, ‘extending a welcome’), exhorting (‘beckoning’), when it would be glossed by ‘exhorting’, or assisting (‘giving a hand’), as the same phrase seems to be in line 12.

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6 epanagein often (cf. 24,1 and 94,11 below) means something like ‘lead back’ and according to the ‘ethical’ reading at 16,24 ff. Socrates does lead Phaedrus back to an earlier and better condition. However, that is presumably the condition of his soul prior to embodiment and Hermias is unlikely to describe that as involving an appreciation of the ‘true rhetoric’. On the whole, it seems likely that, here and at 13,31, which echoes this passage, epanagein is more or less equivalent to the more frequently occurring anagein and we have translated accordingly. 7 On philosophy as the true rhetoric, cf. 7,2–9; 9,6–11. This is of course more or less the thrust of Socrates’ discussion of rhetoric at 259E ff., which Hermias comments on at 228,30 ff. Hermias here comes close to suggesting that the subject of the dialogue is rhetoric and philosophy, a position outlined at 9,6 ff. and 9,14 ff. but eventually rejected. The skopos that he eventually opts for, that of Iamblichus, is ‘beauty of every kind’ (12,17) and Socrates’ mission is usually described in terms of redirecting Phaedrus’ love from earthly things, such as Lysias’ speeches, to higher things, and eventually to intelligible beauty. In fact at 45,28 ff. Hermias draws a distinction between the love of beauty and philosophy as paths of ascent to the One; cf. too 83,8 ff. 8 For Proclus a Platonic dialogue resembles the universe, having analogues to the good, intellect, soul, form, and ‘the underlying nature’, or matter (hulê) (in Alc. 10,3–7; 13, where Proclus says he has explained this in another work, and the sixth-­century Anon. Prol. 16,2–6, which clearly goes back to Proclus). In in Alc. Proclus goes on (10,13–14) to say that in the Alcibiades ‘matter’ is represented by the characters, the time, and ‘what is called by some the hupothesis’ – translated ‘plot’ in O’Neil 1965 and ‘occasion’ in Segonds 2003 – while in the Anon. Prol. (16,7–8) and the in Remp. (1,6,9; 16,27), the only Proclan commentary where the ‘matter’ is one of the preliminary issues dealt with in the introduction (although mentioned, it is not taken up in in Alc. 1), hupothesis is replaced by ‘place’. In in Remp. (where the introductory scheme is intended to serve as a model for Platonic commentaries in general) characters, places, and times were each discussed separately and largely symbolically (17,1 ff.), although the discussion of the characters, which came third, is almost entirely lost. In contrast, what Hermias now goes on to provide is, although it naturally touches on characters, places, and times, essentially a straightforward summary of the dialogue, so that to hulikon could reasonably be rendered ‘subject matter’, or even, given that it is to underpin the higher reading of the dialogue, ‘raw material’. Perhaps the closest Proclan parallel to Hermias’ procedure is actually to be found in in Parm. where discussion of the skopos is also preceded by a summary of the dialogue, there referred to as the dramatikê diaskeuê. (Interestingly, at Anon. Prol. 17,33 ff. we are offered an alternative formulation according to which a dialogue contains elements

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analogous to each of the six types of cause that the Neoplatonists identified in the universe, ‘characters, time, and place’ being analogous to the material cause, or to hulikon, the term used here.) 9 to proskhêma tês hupotheseôs. proskhêma will be more literally something like ‘outward appearance’ and hupothesis (for which cf. the previous note) could be inter alia ‘theme’, ‘subject’, or ‘plot’. 10 Elsewhere we translate theôrêtikos ‘contemplative’ but that doesn’t quite work here. ‘Philosophical’ would probably be best, but that is best reserved for philosophikos. When philosophy is divided into praktikos and theôrêtikos, theôrêtikos is usually translated ‘theoretical’, and we have fallen back on that. (Actually, Alexander, in An. Pr. 3,20–3, shows that the Greeks read theôrêtikos as ‘contemplative’ in that context too.) 11 herôn (line 14) is a misprint for erôn. There is, of course, no suggestion in Plato that Lysias loved Phaedrus or that he wrote his speech with Phaedrus in mind. 12 Near quotation of 227C7–8 and especially 244A4–5. 13 autos is an unexpected choice of pronoun here and Couvreur posits a lacuna after sôphronei (‘is of sound mind’) in which its antecedent has dropped out. However Bernard defends the text and Lucarini and Moreschini list other passages in which Hermias uses autos loosely in their index of proper names and grammatical notabilia. 14 In light of Phaedrus 231D2–3 it seems plausible that ê sôphronounta or the like has fallen out of line 19 after nosounta mallon and we have translated accordingly. 15 One is tempted to render erastês ‘admirer’ here, but compare 12,22–3, where we are told that ‘there is mutual love between Phaedrus and Lysias and both are both lover and beloved, though not with the same [kind of] love’. Note too that Socrates, albeit jestingly, refers to Lysias as Phaedrus’ ‘beloved’ at 236B and at 279B. 16 See Lampe s.v. 6 for homologein in this sense. 17 Lines 8–16 (‘He charges him with . . . the ideas lack any order’) are problematical. (1) Both Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini bracket the words ‘and first for not having specified about what kind of love and for [being] †sterile†, saying the same thing several times’ at lines 14–15 and we have not included them in the body of the translation. (Although Lucarini and Moreschini obelise agonos (‘sterile’) both here and at 3,10, it seems tolerable in the present passage at least if one takes it as equivalent to ‘short of ideas’ or ‘not endowed with a fertile imagination’ – although, interestingly, we are told at 242,9–11 that the critics, following Plato, held that Lysias was good at giving birth (tiktein) to ideas but not at organising his material!) (2) Couvreur (but not Lucarini and Moreschini) also brackets the words ‘and because what is said is thrown together in an indiscriminate and disorderly fashion and the ideas lack any order’ in lines 15–16.

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(3) Couvreur also considers the phrase ‘as if he were swimming on his back’ (line 15) suspect while Lucarini and Moreschini convincingly argue that it belongs, as Phaedrus 264A5 would suggest, after the phrase ‘having started from the end’ in line 9. (4) In fact, as Lucarini and Moreschini point out, the whole passage (sc. lines 8–16) relates to Phaedrus 263D–264C and seem strangely out of place at this point in the summary of the Phaedrus, which has only progressed as far as 234–5. They suggest that it has been (rather clumsily) cobbled together from two originally unrelated scholia, the second beginning in line 14 with the passage that both they and Couvreur bracket. The fact that they retain much of this material in their text seems to suggest that they believe that Hermias himself may have done the cobbling, but there is certainly a strong case for regarding all of this material as the product of later interpolation. Whoever was responsible for it obviously felt the need to expand on Socrates’ criticism of Lysias’ speech at 234E–235A and drew on (or produced) commentary on 263D–264C to do so. 18 In Plato Socrates’ reply to Phaedrus’ promise of a golden statue – philtatos ei kai hôs alêthôs khrusous, ô Phaidre – seems to carry the possibility of a certain irony, as well as playfully continuing the theme of gold. Hackforth captures the potential for the double-­edge with ‘what a pattern of golden age simplicity’. After all, Socrates is implying that Phaedrus is a bit thick if he took Socrates to mean that Lysias’ speech was flawed in every way. 19 (1) Although Lucarini and Moreschini don’t bracket this sentence, Lucarini is of the view that it should be deleted because, like 2,8–16, it interrupts the flow of the summary of the Phaedrus with material drawn from 264A ff. and because Phaedrus’ agreement in the next sentence must surely relate to what went before rather than to anything in this sentence and we tend to agree. (In fact the sentence looks very like a marginal comment that has found its way into the text.) (2) When agonos (‘sterile’) was obelised at 2,15 (see the note at 2,16), there seemed to be room for doubt as to whether it really was corrupt, but this time it is hard to see why Lysias’ supposedly back-­to-front and higgledy-­piggledy presentation should lead to a charge of sterility. (If agonos is corrupt, what could it have displaced? Couvreur, although he doesn’t obelise, suggests atopos (‘absurd’), Lucarini, comparing 10,16, atekhnos (‘unsystematic,’ ‘unworkmanlike’), or that it ‘somehow’ derives from agennôs (literally ‘in a low-­born manner’) at Phaedrus 264B6, but none of these seems very convincing.) 20 We have preferred ‘Love’ to ‘Eros’ for the name of the god because it works better in contexts like this. Here, there would have been a nice ambiguity between ‘love’ (the passion) and ‘Love’ (the god) in the early texts, made possible by the lack of any distinction between upper and lower case, but in modern texts, as in English, one must opt for one or the other.

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21 cf., for example, 10,22 ff. 22 This appears to be the required sense whether one follows Ast in supplying malista after hoti or, with Couvreur, Lucarini and Moreschini, and Bernard, assumes that it can be extracted from hoti monos alone. 23 cf. 62,28–9. A common enough proverb, as a TLG search shows. Plato himself refers to it again at Republic 329A2–4, Aristotle uses it at EE 1238a33 (and cf. EN 1161b34) and Rhet. 1371b15 and Lucarini and Moreschini list a number of occurrences in other authors. 24 If the text is sound, we are presumably to understand teinein (or teinei) from line 4. This seems a bit much to ask of the reader, so perhaps teinei(n) or another verb has dropped out. 25 Literally ‘with the spinning of the shell’. This refers to a children’s game where an oyster shell is tossed and one pursues or flees depending on which side up it lands. (For more, see 63,16 ff. with notes.) 26 Literally ‘nymph-­captured’ and hence enraptured, frenzied. 27 Couvreur assumes, possibly rightly, as Lucarini and Moreschini remark, that Stesichorus is the subject here and adds after de hoti, giving, ‘because he did not perceive [the threat]’. (Bernard defends the text of the manuscripts.) 28 At this point Lucarini and Moreschini delete the words tou Lusiou (‘of Lysias’). 29 But perhaps one should simply (as an anonymous reader suggests) emend autên (line 16) to tautên, and translate, ‘and [then], dividing this latter [kind of] madness’. 30 See the note at 88,17 for the terms ‘mantic’ and ‘telestic’. 31 Although one can find the four kinds of divine madness at this point in the dialogue, it is only at 265B2 ff. that Plato introduces the full terminology for them and assigns them presiding deities (although ephoros is used only of Eros). Interestingly, Plato also writes there as though he had already done so in this passage. 32 As the editors indicate, something has clearly dropped out at this point. 33 Couvreur, following Ficino, reads posa (‘how many good things’). 34 This appears to look forward to 249D5-E4, where we are told that the fourth kind of madness, divine love, is engendered when a lover of the beauty of this world is thereby reminded of true beauty and transfers his love to it. 35 The manuscripts have dialêpsetai at this point, which Lucarini and Moreschini, following Couvreur (and it seems Ficino), change to dialegetai. Although we translate Lucarini and Moreschini’s text, like Bernard, we believe there is a case for retaining the manuscript reading. The editors do not state their objections to dialêpsetai but, as Bernard seems to assume, they are probably concerned about the appropriateness of the word and about its being in the future tense. In looking for a suitable meaning for the word, Bernard looks to LSJ III.6 and translates ‘trifft

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er Unterscheidungen’. Although the word probably does always bear some such connotation in passages like this, it often shades into senses such as ‘go into’, ‘discuss’ (for ‘discuss’, including cases where the verb is, as here, followed by a clause with peri, cf. Lampe, s.v. C.4) and some such translation would work well here. The switch to the future tense at this point in the summary is indeed a little surprising, but as Bernard points out poiêsetai at 4,3 provides a parallel. 36 At 6,12–13 the manuscripts have hate dê katekhomenos tôi kosmiôi kai theiôi erôti hêgemoni khrômenos tôi theiôi erôti (‘inasmuch as he is held in check by decency and divine love and takes divine love as his guide’). This is, to say the least, clumsy and, following Ast, Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini delete the words tôi theiôi erôti. (Lucarini and Moreschini see a case for deleting hêgemoni khrômenos as well.) Bernard, on the other hand, translates the transmitted text. We translate the text printed by Lucarini and Moreschini. 37 Plato’s word is tekhnê, and Hermias defines it at 217,6 ff. 38 psukhagôgias tinos kai kharitos apergastikê. The word psukhagôgia was in the first instance used of the summoning of souls from the nether regions (cf. LSJ, s.v. I). Popular rhetoric presumably led them in the opposite direction. 39 Plato (266E3) has pistôsin and a case could be made for emending pisteis tinas (certain ‘confirmations’) here in line 12 to pistôsin or pistôseis. 40 The editors assume a lacuna at this point. 41 The word, which LSJ lists but does not gloss, appears to be a hapax, but orgisai at Phaedrus 267C9 seems to fix its meaning. 42 i.e. Thrasymachus; cf. 267C5–D4. 43 For pathos in this sense see Lampe, s.v. 1B.2. 44 There are awkwardnesses here. (1) The pathêmata of the various kinds of soul in the relevant passage in Plato (271B1 ff.) are, as the wider context shows, the ways in which they can be acted on (Hackforth translates ‘the various ways in which souls are affected’), but the parallel that Hermias establishes between the pathêmata of the body and those of the soul (a parallel that is not present in Plato), suggests that he construes them as ailments and we have translated accordingly. (2) Because of the intervening reference to speeches, it is not immediately obvious that the pathêmata (‘ailments’) are in fact ailments of the soul and not of both souls and speeches, or even just speeches (interestingly, there is also some initial ambiguity at Phaedrus 271B1–2, on which this passage is based), but the parallelism with 7,25–7, where the pathê / pathêmata are clearly those of the body, guarantees that they belong to the soul. (3) eidê te kai diaphoras at 8,2 (which isn’t motivated by anything in Plato) inevitably makes one think of ‘species and differentiae’, which would be odd at this point, but as an anonymous

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reader points out, ‘kinds and differences’ may just amount to ‘different kinds’ and we have translated on that assumption. 45 Hermias identifies the Theuth of Plato’s dialogue with Hermes, though Plato does not. The identification of Theuth with Hermes seems to be an old one; cf. Herodotus 2.138,4. Here at 8,10 the manuscripts have Thôth but Theuth at 268,6.8. 46 The editors assume that something has dropped out at this point, in Bernard’s view unnecessarily. (Moreschini suggests logôn (‘words’) and Lucarini tôn noêmatôn (‘ideas’).) 47 There is a similar passage at Symposium 208A2–6, although there meletê seems to be the process of returning to the facts to re-­establish a memory and here that of going over one’s memories to keep them from fading. 48 sc. they will write down what they hear and promptly forget it. 49 Plato has kaloî at this point and kalôs is in fact a little awkward, so perhaps, as Couvreur suggests (‘fort. kalon ex Platone leg.’) kalon should be read here. 50 Presumably this means no more than a wise man needs or can use wisely. (The notion of carrying gold – Plato has both pherein and agein – puts one in mind of the story of Croesus’ gift to Alcmaeon of all the gold he could carry from the treasury about his person at Herodotus 6,125,8–13.) 51 In the Greek the words ‘called the erotic’ occur after the parenthesis. 52 This paragraph broaches issues that are dealt with at greater length and rather differently in the following sections on the ‘objective’ (primarily in the very next paragraph) and as such seems out of place here. Ast already felt it does not belong and Couvreur bracketed it. Bernard retains it but thinks it probable that something that would have eased the transition from the summary has been lost immediately before it. (As a matter of fact it seems to us that similar objections could be made to 9,13–10,9.) 53 (1) The skopos of a dialogue is the central theme that unifies it. While earlier interpreters discussed the question of skopos or prosthesis, it seems to have been after Iamblichus that Platonists insisted on the strict notion of a skopos as an overarching theme that orients and contextualises every aspect of the dialogue. On the constraints that a skopos must meet, see Anonymous Prolegomena ch. 9. (2) In the same way that the previous paragraph dealt with issues that are also dealt with at the beginning of this section on opinions about the skopos, the first three paragraphs of this section largely deal with issues that are addressed again in the first three paragraphs of the following section on the true skopos (11,25–12,16). 54 cf. LSJ, s.v. II. Bernard compares LSJ, s.v. IV, where prophasis is glossed ‘preface’ on the basis of a single passage in Dioscorides, and translates ‘wegen des einleitenden Vortrags’, but it seems more likely that Hermias is using the word in one of its more usual senses.

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55 Comparison with 246,27, where antiparathesis and antigraphê are again paired, and with 10,29 ff., where Socrates’ first speech is said to be ‘written against’ Lysias (the verb is antigraphein) to show up the deficiencies of his speech, seems to show that this kai (‘or’) is epexegetic and that both words refer to Socrates’ first speech. 56 cf. Phaedrus 265E where the dialectician ‘carves nature at its joints’. 57 Reading rhopên for rhoên at 9,23; cf. 207,19 and rhepein at 151,5 and 206,11. 58 sc. other people and external things in general. 59 The adjective psukhikos is formed from the noun psukhê (‘soul’). There is no such formation from ‘soul’, so we have used ‘psychic’, which can, if rarely these days, be used in the sense ‘of or related to the soul’, or, when it works better (e.g. at 69,31 and 105,22), ‘of [the] soul’ or the like. 60 The point is that each of these specifications of the skopos of the dialogue – love or rhetoric – is ultimately psychic in nature if we understand both love and rhetoric in terms of the inward or outward psychic motions associated with them. 61 Plato has ‘no poet here on earth has yet celebrated’. 62 Although the editors (no doubt correctly) delete axiôs (‘worthily’) at this point, the force of kat’ axian (also ‘worthily’) later in the sentence is probably to be felt here as well as there. 63 Plato has: ‘Truly real (ontôs ousa) being, colourless, shapeless and intangible, visible only to intellect, the pilot of the soul’. 64 At this point Couvreur comments ‘auton, sc. ton skopon, sed haec omnia vix sana’. Lucarini and Moreschini assume that Couvreur’s problem is only with auton and refer the reader to the listing for autos in their Index verborum where other instances of the loose use of the word are listed. However, we suspect that Couvreur is also concerned about the lack of a connective and the difficulty of squaring what is said here with 11,25 ff. (and esp. 12,4–5 for the ‘theological’ claim). It is also interesting that at 11,23 it is (as one would expect) the dialogue that is theological. 65 For the verb in this sense see Lampe, s.v. 7. 66 Lines 4–9 = Iamblichus, in Phaedrum fr. 1 Dillon. For the parallel between the unity of the dialogue and the organic unity of an organism, see Anonymous Prolegomena 21,20–5; cf. Proclus, in Remp. 1,6,24–7,2 and in Parm. 659,12–18, where Phaedrus 264C is also invoked to justify the Iamblichean procedure of relating all aspects of the dialogue back to its skopos. Aristotle draws the same parallel with regard to narrative poetry at Poetics 1459a20. 67 cf. 12,17 ff. 68 Perhaps these first two charges were influenced by the tradition that the Phaedrus was Plato’s very first work, for which see Diogenes Laertius 3.38,1–3 and Olympiodorus, in Alc. 1 2,63–5. (Most modern scholars believe it is a relatively late work written after the Republic.)

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69 257A5, and cf. 238C5–D3; 241E1–5. 70 sc. love as understood by the many. 71 Or perhaps, ‘and a kind of sickness of the soul’. (For pathos in this sense, see Lampe s.v. B.1.) 72 One would expect an accusative rather than a genitive here. 73 sc. that it can be either a beneficial deity or a condition of the soul. 74 cf., for example, Plato, Republic 519C ff. 75 This should be Plato, since it is Plato that Hermias is supposedly defending, but in what follows he seems to be defending Socrates. 76 But ‘composition’ would better describe what actually comes under attack later. 77 In the sense ‘perceptible through the senses or by immediate experience’ (The New Shorter Oxford English Dictionary, s.v. 1a). 78 The intended sense of psilos is unclear and Couvreur believes that it may be corrupt. (logos psilos, or ‘bare language’, is a common way of referring to prose and this may be behind the corruption if there is one.) 79 This long sentence – which we deliberately haven’t broken up – is not at all in Hermias’ normal style. Is it a direct quotation from Iamblichus? (He has, after all, just been mentioned.) Or perhaps something taken directly from Proclus’ commentary on the Phaedrus? It is certainly characteristic of Proclus’ extant commentaries to list potential objections to Plato and then reply to them. 80 At first sight phusiologia seems an odd choice of word here, but as Proclus’ prefatory remarks to his commentary on the Timaeus (1.1,5 ff.) show, for the Neoplatonists phusiologia could cover much more than the study of natural phenomena. 81 It is rather surprising that beauty isn’t mentioned either here or in the next paragraph. This perhaps suggests that the material in this section is from a different source from that in the section on the true objective. 82 ho politikos is difficult. It is hard to see why Hermias should single out politicians or the politically involved at this point and we have assumed that the sense here relates to those listed at LSJ s.v. V. and that ho polus (‘the common man’) is epexegetic of it. 83 Two of the ten points considered in the introduction to Aristotle with which later commentaries on the Categories (those of Ammonius, Philoponus, Olympiodorus, Elias, and Simplicius) began were the nature of his style and the purpose of his (supposed) obscurity. The answer to the first was that it varies with the kind of writing he is engaged in, to the second that it was to exclude the unworthy. 84 For Proclus the aspect of a dialogue that is analogous to form (eidos) in the universe is its literary style and philosophical character (in Alc 1. 10,11–13; cf. Anon. Prol. 17,1 ff.) and there is material on eidos or kharaktêr in his commentaries on the Alcibiades itself

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(11,3 ff.), on the Republic (1.14,19 ff.), the Timaeus (1.7,17 ff.), the Cratylus (2,1 ff.) and the Parmenides (645,9 ff.). Between them these last two paragraphs, albeit briefly, comment on both the literary style and the philosophical character of the dialogue. This and Damascius, in Phileb. 9,1 ff. appear to be the only two Platonic commentaries apart from those of Proclus whose introductions touch on these issues. 85 Preferring dialexetai, the reading of the manuscripts, to the editors’ emendation dialegetai (‘discourses’) at 12,1. For other such futures see the note at 6,3. (Although she does not print a note, Bernard also appears to translate dialexetai.) 86 Although the adjective sôphrôn is only used three times in the Phaedrus, it crops up frequently in Hermias, mostly used of love or lovers. For it, LSJ gives (1) properly ‘of sound mind’, hence ‘discreet’, ‘prudent’ (2) ‘having control over the sensual desires’, ‘temperate’, ‘self-­controlled’, ‘chaste’. Something like ‘self-­controlled’ or ‘disciplined’ would work well enough in many contexts in Hermias, but it is quite clear that the love that Hermias has in mind when he uses it is (as we argue in the Introduction) Platonic, or non-­sexual, love and ‘chaste’, though rather out of fashion, seems to work best in most cases. The cognate verb sôphronein, on the other hand, is normally opposed to mainesthai (‘be mad’) and ‘be of sound mind’ or ‘be sane’ is normally the appropriate rendering for it. 87 Although we have translated Lucarini and Moreschini’s text, there are several issues here. (1) peri hou (‘on this’ as we translate, but more literally ‘about which’), with which the sentence (as we punctuate) begins, presumably looks back to peri erôtos (‘about love’) at 11,27. This is difficult and Couvreur assumes something has dropped out before the phrase, but there are other such awkwardnesses in this introductory section. (2) Hermias first writes as though chaste love and divine and inspired love are separate entities (‘on the chaste [kind] and the divine and inspired [kind]’) and then as though they are one and the same thing, in fact as though that is how he has just referred to them (‘the latter kind of love, the chaste and divine [kind]’). Couvreur deletes the second tou (‘the’) at 12,2, giving ‘on the chaste and divine and inspired [kind]’. This removes the inconsistency, but the distinction between chaste or psychic love and divine or inspired love is an important one in the commentary (see, for example, 13,6 ff. and 85,16 ff.), and it seems to us that the problem, if there is one, is more likely to be with the second statement. (3) Elsewhere, including in the previous sentence (again as we punctuate), Hermias talks of gratifying lovers rather than gratifying love and the phrase is anyway, on reflection, an odd one. For this reason we are inclined to think that something has gone wrong with the text. Two possibilities occur to us. (a) Emending erôti (‘love’) in line 3 to erônti (‘lover’), which would give something like ‘[And] Socrates too will discourse on this, both on this licentious love and on the chaste [kind] and the divine and inspired [kind], [arguing that] one ought to gratify (kharisteon) and

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follow (akolouthêteon) the latter kind of lover, the chaste and divine [kind]’. (b) As in (a) but further emending erôtos in line 2 to erôntos, when we would translate ‘On whom [sc. the lover] Socrates too will discourse, both on this licentious lover and on the chaste [one] and the divine and inspired [one], [arguing that] one ought to gratify and follow the latter kind (tôi toiôide) of lover, the chaste and divine [kind]’. Both versions have the advantage of making Socrates talk about gratifying lovers rather than gratifying love and of giving akolouthêteon its normal sense of ‘ought to follow’, since the right kind of lover guides his beloved towards the contemplation of intelligible beauty. Also, both do away with the apparent identification of chaste love and divine love, replacing it with a chaste and divine lover, which is also problematical but perhaps explicable on the basis that the divine and inspired lover was first a chaste lover and retains that characteristic. (The fact that Hermias seems to be referring back to a single entity (tôi toiôide) might be because he groups the two types of desirable lover together in contrasting them with the licentious lover.) The latter version has the further advantage of giving peri hou something near to hand (sc. the lover) to refer to and thereby removing the temptation to assume a lacuna – although the former better accords with the use of tôi toiôide. 88 cf. 9,28 ff. (and note). 89 cf. Anonymous Prolegomena 22,1–6, which insists on the same principle that the skopos must be based on the entire dialogue – not just one part – and uses the case of those who suppose that the skopos of the Phaedrus is rhetoric as an illustration of this kind of error. 90 He should really be saying that primary beauty is not the whole skopos. 91 i.e. beauty. 92 cf. Anonymous Prolegomena 21,18–28 on the uniqueness of the skopos for a dialogue. One argument draws on the authority of Plato’s Phaedrus 264C for the claim that since every logos is like a living creature, it must have one telos – the good for which it was made. 93 Hermias 12,14–13,5 = Iamblichus, in Phaedrum fr. 1b Dillon. 94 There is a clear ascent in the sequence of the objects of love, beginning with the bodily beauty of Phaedrus that Lysias loves and the beauty in Lysias’ speeches that Phaedrus loves (12,18–22) and resuming at 12,30 with the ascent from the beauty in speeches to the beauty of the soul. Inserted after the first two steps of this ascent is an assessment of the lovers (12,22–30). Lysias is a worse lover, for he is in love with the corporeal. But, if we consider Lysias as an object of love – albeit only in an attenuated sense in which he is identified with his logoi – then he is a better object of love than Phaedrus. By contrast, Phaedrus is a better lover, for he is in love with the right kind of object. But as an object of love, his corporeal beauty is secondary to the beauty in speeches that makes Lysias an object of love.

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  95 epistêmas is probably wider than anything we would call science (‘kinds of knowledge’, say), but we keep to ‘sciences’ in the half dozen or so passages where epistêmai are coupled with virtues.   96 This last clause is difficult. (1) It is not at all clear how many steps are involved. On the one hand, comparison with the similar passage at 14,9–12, where the two final steps of the ascent are ‘the beauty in intellect’ and ‘the beauty in divinities’, suggests there are at least two, perhaps (a) ‘intelligible beauty’ and (b) ‘the very source of beauty and the god Love and the beautiful-­itself ’ (the connectives being epexegetic). On the other hand, (i) ‘intelligible beauty’ and ‘the beautiful-­itself ’ should be the same thing and (ii) in the description of the descent that follows ‘the beauty of souls’ is the first step down, which wouldn’t be the case if we were dealing with two steps here, so ‘intelligible beauty’, ‘the fount of beauty’, ‘Love’, and ‘the beautiful-­itself ’ may be one thing, the connectives again being epexegetic. (2) It is odd that Love, whose role elsewhere is to lead souls up to intelligible beauty, should here be either synonymous with it or on the level above it and the final goal of the ascent. Perhaps Erôta should be deleted as a misguided gloss on ton theon, giving ‘then to the intelligible beauty and the very source of beauty and god and the beautiful-itself ’.   97 This account of the ascent of the ladder of beauty (though not that of its descent), and the rather differently phrased version of it at 14,9–12, owe as much to Diotima’s speech in the Symposium (210A–212A) as to anything in the Phaedrus itself, where it is rather difficult to find some of the steps involved. This is confirmed, if confirmation is needed, by a number of verbal echoes. Most notably, as Lucarini and Moreschini point out, epanabibasmois khrômenos at 12,30 is an unambiguous echo of epanabasmois khrômenon at Symposium 211C3, but the reference to epistêmai (13,1 and 4; 14,11) is clearly inspired by the use of the same word at Symposium 210C6, etc. and that to epitêdeumata at 14,11 by its use at Symposium 210C2, etc. (Virtue (aretê) doesn’t feature in the Symposium passage, but interestingly does in passages in Plotinus (Enneads 5.9.2.1 ff.) and Proclus (in Alc. 1 330,10–15) that are based on it.)   98 In other words, he has come full circle. On Hermias’ analysis of its structure, then, the dialogue illustrates the ring composition endorsed by ancient literary critics and rhetoricians.   99 Looking back to 12,17. 100 Although this three-­fold division doesn’t take in everything in the dialogue (most notably the discussion of rhetoric with which it ends) and occurs in the course of the discussion of the skopos, it is the closest that Hermias comes to considering the question of the internal divisions of the dialogue (a question dealt with in the introductions to a number of other Platonic commentaries),

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and accordingly Hadot (1990, 32, n. 43) includes it in her list of treatments of that question. 101 The neuters, which are rather unexpected, might be more strictly translated as ‘the things that do the loving’. Perhaps the explanation for them is that, for a Platonist, love is a force in nature and not simply a human emotion. 102 Perhaps a pun on Hermias’ part. 103 For this important Neoplatonic triad of ousia, dunamis, and energeia see the note at 77,20. 104 Changing proêgoumenon to proêgoumenôs and deleting . Presumably proêgoumenôs became proêgoumenos in C (for which see Couvreur’s apparatus) and proêgoumenon in the other manuscripts under the influence of proêgoumenos in lines 17 and 23; Couvreur’s is designed to adjust the syntax to proêgoumenon. 105 The Greek actually has the pronoun autou, which creates a difficulty for the translator since translating it ‘it’, as logic and grammar demand, would make the continuation, with its masculine pronouns, inappropriate. The problem, of course, is that up to this point (as Lucarini and Moreschini’s capitalisation of the Greek acknowledges) Hermias has been talking about ‘love’, but with the invocation of the Symposium he begins to talk about ‘Love’. The change of subject is not in itself unreasonable, but Hermias actually writes as though there isn’t one, which may have been less clear to him and his readers given that erôs (‘love’ or ‘Love’) wasn’t capitalised and could be referred to by the same masculine pronoun autou. Our substitution of ‘Love’ for autou rather fudges the issue of course, but isn’t, we think, seriously misleading. 106 Symposium 202D–203A (‘great daemon’ at 202D13). There are further references to this Symposium passage and to the function of Eros as an intermediary between gods and men at 57,25–7, 70,11–13, 192,14–20, and 225,5–8. 107 The status assigned to a being (e.g. god or daemon) in a Platonic dialogue was thought by the Neoplatonists to depend upon context, purpose, and in what relation it was being considered; cf. Proclus’ explanation of why Plato initially characterises the ‘generation-­producing gods’ of Timaeus 40D6–7 as daimones at in Tim. 3,153,23 ff – a passage which includes Theodore of Asine test. 27 Deuse. 108 With this formal enunciation of the characters, cf. Proclus, in Tim. 1,9,13–24 and 28–9 (the characters are first introduced as an element of the hupothesis or mise-­en-scène and then given an allegorical interpretation at 13–22); in Parm. 628,21 ff. (again the characters are introduced as part of the mise-­en-scène – here dramatikê diaskeuê – and then given an allegorical interpretation at 628,1 ff.); in Crat. 10,1 ff. (the characters are formally introduced and then their different positions with regard to names are outlined); Olympiodorus, in Gorg. prol. sect. 8

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(lists the characters and gives analogical interpretation of them); Damascius, in Phileb. sect. 8. 109 Lines 13,31–14,1 are a verbally close repetition of lines 11,9–10. 110 This paragraph covers the same ground as 11,11–20 where the same issues were dealt with at somewhat greater length. 111 In cases like this where a section lacks a lemma Couvreur, unlike Lucarini and Moreschini, normally supplies one. 112 Comparison with 13,1 suggests that ‘sciences and pursuits’ is epexegetic of ‘that in soul’, in which case something like ‘[i.e.] kinds of knowledge and dispositions’ might be better. However, we suspect that the whole phrase (and similar phrases elsewhere) actually amounts to something like ‘the beauty of soul, as manifested in the sciences and [other] activities’. 113 Presumably in the divine henads; cf. 45,28 ff., where we are told that the ascent of all things to the One is through the Beautiful and the Wise. 114 A common enough derivation; cf., for example, Crat. 416D; SVF 3,208,6 (Chrysippus); Proclus in Alc. 1, 328,11 ff.; Philoponus, Opif. 293,9 ff. 115 Elsewhere we use ‘generation’ and ‘destruction’ for genesis and phthora, but that does not work very well in the case of beauty. 116 Placing the closing bracket after logoi in line 18 rather than after poi in line 19. 117 Although we often translate ê ‘or alternatively’, multiple explanations like this are probably not for the most part intended to be mutually exclusive. 118 Cephalus’ views in the Republic (cf. 329A–331D) are certainly orthodox in our sense, where the term can connote unreflective acceptance of commonplaces. But the contrast that Hermias is concerned with is one that opposes opinion to knowledge and assigns each different objects – sensible being for the former and intelligible being for the latter. So the term carries a kind of implied criticism, although not the same criticism as the English term derived from the Greek can; cf. Proclus, in Alc. 1 76,8 and 310,2 for the same contrast between the person with correct opinion and the person with knowledge. 119 para with the accusative here isn’t easy. Couvreur hesitates between assuming corruption and taking para tous pollous as equivalent to ou kata tous pollous or enantiôs tois pollois and we, like Bernard and Lucarini and Moreschini, have opted for the second expedient. However in line 17 the phrase seems to be glossed by ektos tôn pollôn, which suggests that para tous pollous may be equivalent to (or an error for) para tôn pollôn and the intended sense be ‘away from the many’. 120 cf. Proclus, PT 3,80,13 ff. 121 sc. departs from his own nature. The entire set of reflections is prompted by Phaedrus’ observation at 230C–D that Socrates never leaves the city and by

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Socrates’ reply that the city is where there are knowledgeable people from whom he can learn. The symbolism in that passage associating the city with wisdom of course runs counter to the reading just given where Phaedrus’ walk takes him away from the many. But since cities are complex – home to both wise people from whom one can learn and fools attached to sensibles – there is no real tension in the two images. 122 Not of course in any legal sense but as a kind of mentor. 123 Or perhaps ‘instability of character’, as suggested by an anonymous reader, which would prepare the way well for ‘a soul that is not suited to learning’ in line 28. 124 As is common in the Platonic tradition, turning to philosophy is here likened to an initiation into the Mysteries; cf. Theon of Smyrna 14,18 ff. As Hermias remarks (186,25–7), Plato himself uses the language of the mysteries in his description of the discarnate soul’s vision of Beauty in the palinode (see especially 249C7–8 and 250B8 ff. with Hermias’ comments at 180,1–9 and 186,8 ff.). 125 cf. Asclepius, in Metaph. 148,15–18 for a similar treatment of Love and Strife that explicitly invokes the name of Empedocles and links it with a putative Pythagorean insight into the principle of unification. 126 sc. they too were able to pack hidden meaning into a name. 127 The past tenses here and in what follows are a little odd. At this point in the commentary we would expect presents or futures. 128 A more natural translation of the Greek would be ‘has learned about the truly real [kind of beauty] even earlier from Socrates’ but, like Bernard, we have assumed that the adverb anôterô is being used adjectivally. 129 The adjective phaidros means ‘bright’ and presumably the idea is that Phaedrus (Phaidros) lights up what is obscure and hidden (for this cf. 19,17–20) by his very nature. 130 The association between appearance (to phainomenon) and the initial syllable of Phaedrus’ name (Phaidros) is plain enough, but the rest is a bit mysterious. Perhaps the letters -dr- are meant to refer to the same letters in dioran, which means ‘see through’, ‘see clearly’, ‘distinguish’, so that the name Phaedrus means someone who can see through or beyond the phenomenal and distinguish what is normally hidden. 131 Or perhaps ‘the Good’. 132 The whole discussion illustrates the Neoplatonists’ tendency to invest every aspect of Plato’s text with significance and to vindicate him against even silly criticisms. Plato begins the dialogue with a conversational move that is apparently as conventional in Attic as ‘How are you?’ is in English: ‘Where to, where from?’ (cf. Lysis 203A6-B1; Diogenes Laertius 6.59,9 – in an anecdote about Diogenes the Cynic). Some pedant, real or imagined, now raises the

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objection that this is back to front: the destination should come after the point of origin. It should be ‘Where from, where to?’ To this profound criticism of Plato, Hermias provides not one, but three, possible lines of defence. 133 Plato’s Timaeus 34A identifies seven kinds of motion: rotation, upward and downward, to the left or right, forward and backward. However, Timaeus 43A omits circular motion and instead speaks of six kinds. 134 With the three interpretations (logical, ethical, and scientific) of the phrase where to and where from that follow compare the three interpretations (logical, ethical, scientific and theological) at 58,12 ff. of the reason for Socrates interrupting his speech; compare too, for example, the multiple interpretations (literary, ethical, scientific and theological) of Timaeus 17A1–3 at Proclus, in Tim. 1,14,7 ff. Proclus tells us (in Tim. 1.19,25 ff.) that in treating preliminary material to the dialogue, Porphyry was in the habit of giving it an ethical interpretation and Iamblichus a physical one and it is quite possible that the ethical interpretation here goes back to Porphyry or a report of Porphyry and the physical one to Iamblichus. 135 Presumably it is desire as such that is ‘inborn’, not the desire to move in a particular direction. 136 topôn is an emendation (suggested by Couvreur and taken up by both Bernard and Lucarini and Moreschini) of the manuscript reading tropôn, of which it is difficult to make any sense. Actually, to talk of ‘roads and other places’ seems a little odd, and, although we have translated Lucarini and Moreschini’s text, perhaps a case could be made for retaining tropôn but accenting it with a circumflex on the second syllable rather than an acute on the first, which would give something like ‘roads and other turning-­points’ (i.e. ‘road junctions and other turning-­points’), which would make good enough sense. 137 There is presumably, as Bernard suggests, a reference to planetary retrogression. 138 Following Bernard in rejecting Couvreur’s , which Lucarini and Moreschini adopt. 139 Lucarini and Moreschini understand this bracketed observation differently. 140 More literally ‘if it should chance that he be hindered by something’. (Presumably Socrates is the subject and the hindrance some shortcoming in Phaedrus.) 141 Or perhaps ‘[its] nature’. 142 Iliad 8.64–5. Homer switches the order of the coordinated clauses: ‘(a) screams of pain and (b) shouts of triumph from (b) the killers and (a) the slain’. Hermias here refers to the fact that Phaedrus responds to Socrates’ question, ‘Where to, where from?’ by saying first where he is coming from. The ‘crossing up’ of the order is here described as chiastic or X-shaped. For the compositional technique, see the entry on prosunapantêsis in Alexander (2nd century CE), On Figures 40,11–20.

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143 diatêrein seems an odd choice of verb, but the general sense should be something like this. (Bernard translates, ‘Es wird . . . später beachtet’.) 144 cf. 18,11–12, where Plato is again said to be preparing the ground for their encounter. 145 cf. Ammonius, in Int. 2,9–3,6 and Sorabji 2004, vol. 3, 244–5. 146 The answer ‘from Lysias’ seems more helpful than the previous illustration of a merely necessary reply. Surely the merely necessary reply would be ‘from elsewhere’ not ‘from Lysias’. 147 sc. it was not part of Plato’s intention to so depict him in the Phaedrus. 148 Both Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini believe that something has dropped out in line 10 but we have followed Bernard in translating the transmitted text. We have to thank an anonymous reader for pointing us towards what we believe is the correct interpretation of graphesthai (Bernard translates: ‘Das Redundante aber verwirft er (sc. Plato); denn es ist nicht angemessen, wenn man Sokrates antwortet, Geschwätz zu schreiben.’) 149 cf. 229B and 230B, where Plato uses the word, which according to LSJ (s.v. II.3) is rarely used of natural objects, of water features encountered on the walk. 150 Of the commentators only Proclus uses the adjective kallopoios (‘that produces beauty’) and he does so ten times. At in Tim. 1,269,14–18 he locates the beauty-­ producing cause (kallopoios aitia) in the first rank of the Intelligibles, which is in line with Hermias’ view (see, for example, 12,2–3). 151 This looks back to lines 7–9 where we were told that the word ‘walk’ shows that Phaedrus has chosen to be sound in both body and mind, the latter clearly meaning that he will turn from merely earthly beauty to the contemplation of intelligible beauty. 152 Of course one would normally translate the phrase ‘from Lysias, son of Cephalus’, but then Hermias’ point would be lost. 153 The reference is to Phaedo 60A9 ff. where, after the wailing Xanthippe is escorted home, Socrates sits up (anakathizomenos) (60B1) on the bed and massages his leg, from which the fetters have just been removed. The present passage should be read in conjunction with 35,9 ff., which invokes the same Phaedo passage. There we are told that Socrates’ ‘sitting up’ (anakathizomenos; 39,16) is an indication that he is about to talk of higher things (with his friends), here that his being seated (kathêmenos) shows that he is dealing with mundane matters (presumably before his friends arrive). On the face of it kathêmenos could also describe Socrates’ posture after he sits up, which would mean that Hermias is offering different interpretations of essentially the same posture. One could, rather desperately, argue that we are to see a distinction between just sitting (leaning back even) and sitting up straight, but closer examination of 35,9 ff. suggests

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another solution. When he quotes the Phaedo at 35,16 Hermias refers to Socrates as anakathizomenos ek tês klinês rather than eis or epi tên klinên (i.e. ‘from the bed’ rather than ‘on the bed’) with the manuscripts of Plato, so it seems that he takes anakathizomenos to mean something like ‘getting up’ (from a seated position) in the Phaedo passage and we translate accordingly there. The Phaedo commentaries of Olympiodorus and Damascius as we have them do not contain a discussion of the introductory material of which 60A9 ff. forms a part. It seems probable – given the complex treatment given other introductions in the commentary tradition – that Socrates’ ‘ascent’ from the realm of unseemly emotions would not have gone unremarked. 154 In a purely philosophical context we would translate ‘purifiers’. 155 The Hellenistic schools of philosophy drew the connection between philosophy and the restoration of psychic health, on the one hand, and medicine and the health of the body on the other; cf. SVF 3.471 (= Galen, PHP 5.2,22). In spite of the fact that Plato’s Gorgias makes justice the psychic analogue of somatic medicine (464C1), Olympiodorus in his commentary on that dialogue has no hesitation in drawing the parallel between the purgation of wicked opinions effected by philosophy and the manner in which medicine drives bad humours from the body. (The Platonic ur-­text here is likely to be Sophist 230B–E.) 156 akoumenos is the present participle of akeisthai, ‘to heal’. 157 Note the past tense. Below at 49,5–15 Hermias will provide a lengthy discussion of the rules of wrestling in order to explain one of Plato’s metaphors. What inferences should we draw about the use of gymnasia by the members of Hermias’ audience? 158 sc. he pre-­empts any other explanation. Hermias uses the verb prophasizomai which normally means ‘to plead as an excuse’. Presumably this looks forward to the fact that Phaedrus will be revealed not to be out walking for his health but to be in search of a quiet place to learn Lysias’ speech by heart. 159 Only part direct quotation. 160 Literally ‘unfolding’, ‘explication’. 161 The idea seems to be that the three names contain a kind of encoded message. The root krat- in Epicrates (Epikratês) (also seen in kratoumenou – ‘is overcome’) is meant to invoke the idea of vanquishing or overcoming, the name Phaedrus, which is identical in form to an adjective meaning clear or bright, the idea of brightness or clarity, and the name Morychus (Morukhos) the idea of darkness or obscurity. The last connection is at first sight a little obscure. As it happens the adjectival form morukhos is only attested as an epithet of Dionysus in Sicily, reputedly because the god of wine’s face was smeared or soiled (morussein) with wine at vintage time. However morukhôteron, the comparative adverb formed

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from the adjective, appears at Aristotle, Metaph. 987a10 (there are variant readings) and one of two glosses that Alexander (in Metaph. 46,23) offers for it there is skoteinoteron (‘rather darkly’, ‘rather obscurely’). (It’s perhaps worth remarking that the present passage would seem to support the validity of skoteinoteron as a gloss for morukhôteron.) For a different view of the implications of Phaedrus’ name, one that seems to meet with Hermias’ approval, see 16,3 ff. 162 The basic meaning of gliskhros is ‘sticky’ and the precise nuance here (and later at 32,27) is unclear. 163 Or perhaps: ‘let us deal with what is anyway more appropriate in the case of all narratives (legomena), the historical aspect’. 164 But perhaps one should, in view of the almost routine conjunction of the two words in Hermias, supply kallos after phainomenon, as an anonymous reader suggests, and translate something like ‘comely as far as outward beauty goes’. 165 Lysias and Phaedrus are presented in a parallel structure. The first has the intrinsic facility for beautiful speech and relational desire for good-looking boys. The latter has good looks as an intrinsic feature and a relational desire for beautiful speeches. Hermias accentuates this by speaking of ton exô rheonta logon (literally something like, ‘outward flowing speech’) where the exô reinforces the fact that this spoken word is ‘an external’ – something beyond the soul. 166 Mentioned four times in Aristophanes (Acharnians 887; Wasps 506, 1142; Peace 1008). According to the scholia on Aristophanes he was a tragedian. 167 Pindar, Isthm. 1.2. 168 cf. EN 1177b2–24. Both Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini posit a lacuna after Aristotelês, while Bernard feels that bios can be supplied (presumably after skholastikos) from the previous clause without resorting to emendation. Like Bernard, we think that supplying bios after skholastikos is the easiest way to make sense of the text, but tend to think that it needs to be by emendation. 169 For proairesis in this sense, see Lampe s.v. II.B.3. 170 As Bernard notes, Couvreur’s reference to EN 1123b9 directs us only to a brief description of the vain person. The contrast between the great-­souled person and the vain person in relation to their attitude to praise and censure is discussed at 1125a4–11. 171 Presumably Hermias has in mind the Delphic Oracle’s statement that no one was wiser than Socrates (Apol. 21E ff.). 172 The verb is sometimes to be translated ‘wallow’ and probably has pejorative overtones here. 173 Hermias later (88,26 ff., etc.) adds a ‘one of the soul’ above intellect. The five cognitive faculties and the one of the soul are also present in Proclus and were standard Neoplatonic doctrine by Hermias’ day.

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174 But, like intellect and discursive thought, it is a faculty of the rational soul (cf. 55,32). 175 cf. Aristotle, Metaph. 1072b20 ff. 176 237B7. (Here, though not elsewhere, Hermias has pantôn for Plato’s pantos.) 177 We have translated Lucarini and Moreschini’s text, which involves a repositioning of the words ‘and been correct in the opinion he has stated’ that had been mooted by Couvreur in his apparatus. Couvreur himself prefers to delete the phrase while Bernard translates the transmitted text. 178 As opposed to Socrates’ concern with the universal, referred to in l,16 above. 179 kath’ hupolêpsin apatê; for apatê in this sense, see Lampe s.v. 2. 180 Reading hote (which consorts well with ‘That is how it will be if Socrates is an example of opinion’ at 21,31–2) with the manuscripts rather than hoti with Couvreur, Bernard, and Lucarini and Moreschini. 181 In this case, of opinion as a whole. 182 Taking kai as epexegetic. 183 enapomagma only occurs in this passage, but an apomagma is (amongst other things) the impression made by a seal. Note that Lysias stands for aisthêsis here and that the book is his production – his ‘impressions’, so to speak. 184 cf. 27,4 ff. en (as in Plato and later in Hermias) would be more usual than epi, which would normally mean ‘on’ (the left). 185 The Neoplatonists from Iamblichus on were much given to this kind of allegorising of the characters of a dialogue. Elsewhere Socrates is consistently likened to the ‘intellect of the soul’ (for details see Griffin 2014) and in Hermias that is of course the plane on which he normally operates. 186 The editors and Bernard treat ‘for often . . . in front of one’ as parenthetic and make opinion the subject of pronoei (‘forms conceptions’). 187 The exact connotation of gar (‘for’) is, as often, hard to pin down. Something that could be translated ‘but’ or ‘however’ would have been easier. 188 The Neoplatonists think that the faculty of opinion holds the logoi of sensible things and projects them on to the objects of the senses (cf. Proclus, in Tim. 1,251,6–7 and Lautner 2002, 259). When opinion derives logoi from phantasia, they are previously in perception. But this is not to say that opinion does not have its own innate logoi too. 189 The choice of the verb is, of course, more appropriate to the exercise of discursive thought than to the behaviour of Phaedrus, who is now symbolising it. 190 Couvreur, perhaps rightly, deletes the bracketed words, but they are appropriate enough to the symbolic account of discursive thought. 191 The suggestion seems to be that exô (‘outside’) should put one in mind of diexodos (‘the discursive nature’).

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192 It is, of course, characteristic of nous to revert upon itself. The rest of the comparison depends on the fact that, while Socrates customarily does not leave the city, he does so in company with Phaedrus (230D). 193 The sources for the idea that nous has a distinctive motion are, of course, Laws 898A and Timaeus 40A–B. In Plato’s text that motion is the motion of a sphere upon its axis. The motion of intellect that is here symbolically related to persons in the dialogue must be intellect as we find it in human souls. Having identified the two fundamental lines according to Plato as the straight and the circular, Proclus notes that since souls are intermediate between being and becoming, they move in a circular fashion when allied to intelligible being, but in a straight line when exercising providence over sensibles (in Euc. 109,1). The spiral motion is a fusion of the straight and the circular and here we see it equated with nous’ providentially bringing dianoia into likeness with itself (Phaedrus). The straightline motion is equated with the exercise of providence. In the case of Socrates’ engagement with Lysias, he authoritatively corrects his mistakes, but this benefits Phaedrus, not Lysias. 194 epidrattesthai (the standard rendering of which is ‘lay hold of ’) seems to be Hermias’ attempt to find a verb that can cover both the relationship of nous to what is around it and that of a circle to a plane; in the former case it needs to mean something like ‘take in’ or ‘engage with’, in the latter simply ‘touch’. The verb is a flexible one for Hermias: earlier (15,31; 16,2) it was used to convey the ‘taking hold’ by one thing of another that results from philia – a taking hold that results in unification. 195 Like Bernard, translating epipedou, the manuscript reading, rather than Couvreur’s epipedos, which Lucarini and Moreschini adopt. As Bernard suggests, the analogy seems to be that of a circle perpendicular to a plane, which touches it at a single point. (It is not clear how Couvreur or Lucarini and Moreschini would translate their text, but against it is the fact that, although a circle is frequently referred to as a skhêma epipedon, the phrase kuklos epipedos is very rare indeed.) 196 Perhaps euthuphoreisthai is meant to relate to the straight-­line element in spiral motion. For Phaedrus’ reversion upon himself, see 52,8–11; 68,14–16; 85,31–86,2. 197 ‘Compare with’ translates khrêsêtai pros; another possible rendering might be ‘pit against’. 198 As the editors point out, nothing in the Cratylus fits. There are several passages in other dialogues where ‘giving and receiving accounts’ is mentioned and Couvreur suggests Protagoras 334C and Bernard Theaetetus 161B4. 199 The phrase (ouk oida hontina tropon), which is idiomatic, would normally be translated something like ‘in some sense’, but in what follows Hermias obviously gives ouk oida (‘I don’t know’) its full literal value.

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200 Bernard, perhaps correctly, prints this quotation as a lemma. 201 ‘ê kai is often used when ê would suffice’ (Smyth 2862; and cf. 2888) and for the most part we do not represent the kai in the translation. 202 In Plato ‘is ingenious’ is not at all pejorative. 203 Hermias seems to be drawing a parallel between Phaedrus’ professed ignorance (as Hermias reads it) of the sense in which Lysias’ speech is about love and our ignorance about the roots of desire. 204 Assuming that the kai at this point is otiose (cf. the note at line 5 above). 205 Punctuating with a comma rather than a semi-­colon after ephelketai and a full stop rather than a comma after epithumêtikon. Pindar is clearly quoted in support of the idea that the sources and workings of the sexual urge are hidden but the punctuations of Couvreur and of Lucarini and Moreschini obscure this. (Bernard’s translation and alteration of Couvreur’s punctuation show that she reads the passage in the same way.) 206 Pindar, Pyth. 9.39–40. 207 cf. Protagoras 313C5 for the view that speeches are nourishment for the soul as food is for the body and that we would be well advised to consult the psychic counterpart of a doctor before ingesting untested products. 208 Bernard interprets the density as that of the pneumatic vehicle of the soul (p. 73) and the pneumatic vehicle does indeed facilitate communication between discarnate souls or between daemons and human souls (see 73,28 ff. and Sorabji 2004, vol. 1, 224–7). However we think that the point here is that discarnate souls can communicate directly without vocalisation but embodied souls can’t because the density of the body makes such communication impossible, to overcome which we have been given speech. (For the idea that discarnate souls don’t need speech whereas we do see Proclus, in Remp. 2,166,16–21, Ammonius, in Cat. 15,4–9, and Philoponus, in Cat. 9,31–4 and 14,2–5 and Aet. 77,15–24; for the density of the human body see Proclus, in Remp. 2,186,9–10; 280,30 ff.; in Crat. 170,6; Philoponus, in DA 19,1; 52,7.) 209 sc. out loud. (But note that Socrates only has one speech to listen to.) Notice that the arguments for the appropriateness of Socrates’ hearing the speech move from the specific to the general, this last one being equally applicable to all human beings – we all have dense bodies and a consequent dependence on vocalisation. 210 ‘If he writes’ would be more literal but the verb in the apodosis suggests this translation. 211 Lucarini and Moreschini (and Couvreur) delete a gar (‘for’) at this point (24,1) and we translate accordingly, but Bernard may be right to defend it. 212 The first part of what appears in the speech that Hermias puts in Socrates’ mouth rehearses what Plato writes at 227C–D. However the observation about the

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greater tendency toward hubris among the rich and the young, together with the observation that the poor and the old tend toward being more moderate, is Hermias’ own addition. 213 This is puzzling and the puzzle seems to arise from the addition that Hermias himself makes to Socrates’ jocular remarks about the old and the poor. In the context of Plato’s dialogue, this looks like more flirtation on the part of Socrates: he’d welcome a speech from Lysias that would urge young men (like Phaedrus!) to spend time with him. It is Hermias, not Plato, who has located a tendency for hubris among the young and the wealthy. Nothing that Socrates says in this context suggests that he has any moral reason (such as the one that Hermias goes on to supply) for opposing the idea that one should gratify the young and the wealthy. It’s not because of their tendency to hubris that Socrates thinks it would be better for Lysias to urge gratifying the poor and the old: it is because he, Socrates, would like the attention of handsome young men. 214 Presumably to the criticism implied in the suggestion that Socrates is being less than serious. 215 Sophocles, Ajax 522. 216 Paroemiographi 2,4.68a.1 (Arsenius); 2,12.3.1 (Apostolius). 217 Within Platonism there is ample warrant for thinking that psychic shortcomings are linked with bodily states. Cf. Timaeus 86B and the medical Platonist Galen who emphasised this thread in Plato’s writings (Quod animi mores 64,19). However subsequent Neoplatonists sought to deny that the soul undergoes anything as a result of the body. What appears to be physiological states bringing about psychic ones is actually the result of the soul acting upon itself through misidentifying itself with the body (Proclus, in Tim. 3,330,9–331,1). Nonetheless, even the Neoplatonists allow that the so-­called ‘natural virtues’ are largely products of the bodily states (Damascius in Phaed. 1,138). (For other relevant passages see Sorabji 2004, vol. 1, 182–203.) It is in this context that we should see Hermias’ claim that the disposition (diathesis) of self-­centred old people derives from a physiological tendency toward lower innate heat. 218 Hec. 497–8; cf. 347. Talthybius is moved to utter this line by the sight of Hecuba in her misery. Though he is old, he wishes that he might die before any such circumstances should befall him. From this Hermias infers that it is common wisdom that the old love themselves and cling to life. Talthybius’ ‘nonetheless’ is the exception that proves the rule. 219 Like Bernard, we’ve tried to make sense of the manuscript reading ei rather than accept Couvreur’s ei with Lucarini and Moreschini. The only other time that Hermias uses êporêsa (161,13) he appears to be referring to an issue that he raised in one of Syrianus’ classes and perhaps that’s the case here. If so, he will be

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identifying an issue that he first raised orally and going on to set out a possible solution (perhaps the one suggested by Syrianus), though not, we think, with any great enthusiasm. (Accepting Couvreur’s reading, which has its difficulties, we would punctuate and translate quite differently.) 220 In the case of a capability this means that it may or may not be exercised, in the case of a wish that the opposite wish, or perhaps no wish at all, could have been made. 221 This distinction seems to relate to the refinement of the notion of contingency in Aristotle that was introduced by Alexander of Aphrodisias. Aristotle defines the contingent as ‘what is possible, but not necessary’ (An. Pr. 32a18–21). Alexander refines this so that the contingent is defined as what is both not necessary and also not actual. So, at this moment, lacking food and the money to purchase food I cannot eat. But it is contingent that I cannot eat. On the other hand, the Earth (located at the centre of the cosmos) cannot be located above. That’s not its natural place and thus this is impossible. It is not contingent. 222 Euripides, Phoenician Women 360. In this speech, Polyneices asserts that a person can say that he does not love his native land, but it is in fact impossible not to feel love of country. This parallels Hermias’ subsequent illustration. No person can really want to die: the desire for life is natural and inevitable. So when I say ‘I wish to live’ this parallels the statement ‘it is possible (because necessary) that the Earth is at the centre’. 223 The idea seems to be that the poor person, lacking resources, cannot use his resources to do favours for his friends. Qua poor person, his inability to help is not merely contingent (i.e. non-­actual but not impossible). Similarly the decline of vital heat in the self-­centred old man means that the absence of a desire to help on his part is not merely a matter of his not presently wanting to do so. Rather, he is now naturally constituted such that this desire stands to him as an agent’s desire for death stands to that agent. His utterances to the contrary are but empty words. Thus it would seem that the reply to Hermias’ initial query is really that, in this context, ‘the old person does not wish to help’ is more or less equivalent to ‘he cannot’. 224 For Herodicus of Selymbria, who lived c. 500–c. 430–420 BCE, see Brill’s New Pauly, Herodicus (1). He is also mentioned at Republic 406A ff., where he is said to have been a trainer who combined an interest in gymnastics and medicine. Although we have little reliable information about him, some (see, for example, Georgoulis 2007) have hailed him as the founder of sports medicine. 225 The sentence lacks a verb and the editors posit a lacuna at its end. 226 Lucarini and Moreschini tentatively suggest that there may be a reference to Euripides, Med. 1307 where there is some verbal similarity, but perhaps the reference is to some passage where the speaker is a seer and there is some

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reference to gold or the like. In any case, the quotation is intended to support the idea that someone who is wise, or philosophically advanced, will understand the character and actions of those who are not. 227 Pindar, Pyth. 4.178. Hermias’ point, as above at 26,26, is that time spent absorbed in the beauty of material things is not an appropriate use of the leisure or skholê that is the province of the educated gentleman. 228 cf. Ammonius, in Int. 18,26 for a similar order of priority: things, thoughts, uttered sounds, and writing. Ammonius goes on to argue that, strictly speaking, only thoughts are images (eikones) since their relation to the world is not conventionally mediated. Strictly speaking, spoken sound and letters are ‘symbols’ or ‘signs’ (20,21–5). 229 For the later Neoplatonists each divine henad – the henads are mentioned at 126,26 – or god heads a chain or series of effects that extend all the way down from its own station to the material sphere and effects lower in the series, such as souls, animals, plants and stones, can serve as, or carry, tokens (sunthêmata) or symbols (sumbola) that reveal the nature of the god and can even, with the appropriate theurgic rites, be used to access it (cf. Proclus, ET Prop. 125 with Dodds’ note and Helmig and Steel 2015, 3.6). Hermes often appears as the patron of orators (OCD, ‘Hermes’) and at 8,10–11 is credited with the invention of writing. Proclus also assigns the education of young people to the Hermaic series; cf. in Alc. 1 196,18 ff. 230 Reverence is primarily due to Hermes but it is also due to the dog as part of the Hermaic series since the god at the head of a series is manifested to different degrees by the members of that series. This, in fact, is the metaphysical basis for the use of symbols or sunthêmata in theurgic practice. 231 Double ignorance – that is, ignorance of the fact that one is ignorant – is given detailed treatment in Layne 2009. 232 There doesn’t seem to be anything earlier in Hermias that this can refer to but the statement about forgetting is at least verbally reminiscent of Phaedo 75D10–11. 233 cf. 1,12 above. As Bernard notes, here Hermias seems to be making one of the promised transitions from a surface reading of the playful conversation between Phaedrus and Socrates that opens this dialogue to a deeper, allegorical one in which Socrates’ chiding of Phaedrus points us toward the Delphic Oracle’s imperative to ‘Know Thyself ’. (Bernard in fact translates theôrêtikôteron ‘im Sinne einer höheren und noetischen Interpretation’, which catches the sense but perhaps errs on the side of over-­translation.) 234 Lucarini and Moreschini obelise anakinoun (‘awakening’) and Lucarini is dubious about hoion (‘as it were’). Like Bernard, we have done our best with the transmitted text.

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235 Odyssey 18.130. 236 hê sun antithesei antistrophe comes to be the standard terminology for modus tollens. If Socrates does not know Phaedrus, he does not know himself. But the emphatic ‘I’ is meant to remind us that it is Socrates in the consequent – the man whom the Delphic Oracle said to be the wisest of the Greeks (Apol. 20E ff). Hence he does know himself and thus also knows Phaedrus. 237 (1) The Greek (tou doxastikou kai phantastikou) seems to lump the opinionative and imaging faculties together, but, although they are in a sense adjacent faculties, the former is actually a faculty of the rational soul and the latter one of the irrational. (2) Presumably this interpretation of in the left hand would be justified by the place of ‘left’ alongside ‘plurality’, ‘female’, and ‘motion’ in the Pythagorean table of opposites; cf. Aristotle, Metaph. 986a23–6. 238 In this exchange Socrates tells Phaedrus that, though he loves him very much, he’s not going to listen to him recite from memory when Lysias (in the form of his book) is present (parontos de Lusiou, 228E1). Though Phaedrus is a pretty boy, Socrates goes for the higher, more immaterial beauty of the speech. 239 Bernard compares Heraclitus DK fr. B 91 and fr. 12; Lucarini and Moreschini fr. 12 and fr. 49a. Of course Plato’s Cratylus 402A–B argues that there is agreement between Heraclitus and yet more ancient thinkers like Hesiod, Homer, and Orpheus. 240 DK fr. B 118. This saying is quoted in different forms by different authors. DK list both the longer form we find here (augê xêrê, psukhê sophôtatê) and also the shorter form ‘dry soul, wisest [soul]’ (auê psukhê sophôtatê) and Couvreur in fact amends to the shorter form. It is hard to see his motivation since the connection with the midday summer setting makes the word augê relevant. 241 One would normally prefer a rendering like ‘wading in the water’, but the interpretation that follows is best served by a more literal translation. 242 For including the intermediate things (or means) through mentioning the extreme or end terms, see Plato’s construction of the visible and tangible cosmos in Timaeus 31B–32C. The fire and the earth that endow it with visibility and tangibility respectively presuppose the intermediates (air and water) that allow these solids to be combined through a geometric proportion. The Neoplatonists are happy to read Plato as implicitly supplying the intermediate stages when he mentions such extremes – in this case the high tree and the low-­growing grass. 243 Like Bernard, we translate ‘(touto gar dêloi to phôs nun) anagousês’, which has the support of the manuscripts, rather than Couvreur’s conjectural ‘(touto gar dêloi to phôs) sunanagousês’, which is adopted by Lucarini and Moreschini. The shade symbolises the intelligible sphere, which draws us to it but is not directly accessible to us, the light (which the shade obscures) the world of sense, which

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we are to leave behind. The point of ‘here’ (nun, which often invites this or a similar translation in Hermias) is that ‘light’ can also be used to symbolise illumination from above, as at 140,12 ff.; cf. 15,10–15, where Hermias attributes a similar bipolarity to leukos and melas. 244 In his commentary on the Timaeus, Proclus notes that Porphyry read the prologue of that dialogue as an allegorical presentation of ethical norms (in Tim. 1,19,25 = Porphyry, in Tim. fr 2 (Sodano)), while Iamblichus tended to relate details of the narrative (such as the missing person from the conversation at 17A4) to higher, intellectual levels of being (in Tim. 1,19,10 = Iamblichus, in Tim. fr. 3 Dillon). 245 Boreas (see OCD ‘Boreas’) was the god of the north wind, or the wind itself, Notus (see 31,11–12) of the south. 246 Retaining sumballesthai, the reading of the manuscripts, with Bernard, in preference to Ruhnken’s (and possibly already Ficino’s) sullabesthai, which is printed by Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini. 247 cf. Herodotus 7,189. 248 The assumption here seems to be that Erechtheus presides over (the) earth. 249 The suggestion is that the derivation of the name Ôreithuia (‘Orithyia’) is [hê kata tas] hôras thallousa (‘she who thrives with the seasons’); cf. the alternative etymology of Ôreithuia in lines 21–2. 250 On the literal level, ‘from high quarters’ presumably means from the north and ‘from low regions’ from the south. 251 The clause lacks a subject and Couvreur assumes a lacuna after Notôi. For want of a better idea, we have followed Lucarini and Moreschini in understanding dunameis (‘powers’). 252 This translation is more interpretative than literal and other interpretations would be possible. On the use of the language of initiation, see the note at 15,26. 253 We normally (but by no means always) translate theôria as ‘contemplation’ (see the notes at 1,12 and 28,18), but that will hardly do here. Possibilities other than ‘theory’ might be ‘philosophy’ or ‘interpretation’. The idea seems to be that Plato, needing something to keep the narrative moving, has Phaedrus inquire about the interpretation of the myth and this becomes the occasion for the imparting of a piece of philosophy relevant to Phaedrus’ impending initiation. Note however that the philosophical interpretation of the myth is provided by Hermias rather than by Socrates as ‘for’ at the beginning of the next sentence might suggest. 254 cf. the alternative etymology of Ôreithuia in line 7. The suggestion here seems to be that thuia, the final syllable of Ôreithuia, derives from the same root as the verb thuô, the vowel u having been lengthened to ui. Hermias, or his source, may have had in mind the phenomenon known as compensatory lengthening,

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whereby a short vowel is lengthened to make up for a dropped consonant, although the phenomenon is not specifically Attic and a short u would become a long one rather than ui. Actually a TLG search shows that ancient grammarians could describe various kinds of vowel or syllable lengthening as Attic lengthening, but none of them really fits what is supposed to have happened here. (As it happens, thuô actually appears in the alternative form thuiô in postHomeric epic, although Hermias presumably did not know that.) 255 The idea that philosophy is a training for death goes back to Phaedo 67E and ‘training for death’ was one of the six definitions of philosophy discussed in the introductions to philosophy that precede the extant Greek commentaries on Porphyry’s Isagôgê. From those discussions we learn that natural life and natural death have their expected meanings, while the ‘voluntary’ life (it’s difficult to know how best to translate proairetikos here; we’ve borrowed ‘voluntary’ from Westerink 1990, 344) is one in which the soul is mastered by the bodily passions, or a life of vice, and voluntary death the death of the passions and the adoption of the life of virtue. Both a natural and a voluntary death, then, involve the freeing of the soul, the former from its entombment in the body, the latter from its enslavement to the demands of the body. (The relevant passages from the Isagôgê commentaries are Ammonius 5,9 ff.; Elias 12,22 ff.; David 31,7 ff. and the same complex of ideas occurs in Olympiodorus, in Phaed. 1,11,5 ff.; 3,1,6 ff.; 3,11,5 ff. Interestingly, Hermias / Syrianus is earlier than any of these.) 256 The sun is a hypercosmic god (when he is identified with Apollo) as well as an encosmic one. For this ‘double procession’ (supposedly described in the Timaeus), see Proclus, PT 6,62,9–63,7. 257 Pindar, Ol. 2.54. Something like ‘savage care’ or ‘wild ambition’ would be a better translation in the original context. 258 Proclus responds to four arguments against the allegorical interpretation of myths (such as the myth of Atlantis) at in Tim. 1,129,11–23. Tarrant ad loc. argues that these four arguments probably derive ultimately from Longinus – Porphyry’s teacher before he joined the circle of Plotinus. 259 cf. 229C7 ff. (with verbal echoes of 229C7–9 in particular). 260 cf. Phaedo 98C ff. 261 Perhaps a reference to the boundless and unlimited nature of matter and all that is associated with it and to the consequent nature of their endeavour. 262 From a grammatical point of view the reference of ‘it’ (autên) is not entirely clear, but it must be something like ‘their science’. 263 The Neoplatonists place Alcibiades 1 first in the reading order of the Platonic dialogues and they treat its skopos as self-­knowledge. If Socrates is to lead

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Alcibiades to this insight, then surely he must know himself already. Hence the problem that Hermias confronts. 264 sc. Apollo, the god of the oracle. 265 The full phrase is peithomenos de tôi nomizomenôi peri autôn (230A2) Hermias uses the multiple meanings of nomizein to open up an interpretive alternative where it seems unlikely that there really is one. It seems likely that what Plato means is that Socrates accepts the customary view (to nomizomenon) on these matters. But nomizein can also mean ‘to believe’, so Hermias thinks that the line could mean that Socrates does not follow the crowd in accepting these stories. The phrase hê tou nou dianomê (‘the dispensation of the intellect’) echoes Laws 714A2 (where the participle peithomenos also occurs) and plays with the nom root that is crucial to the ambiguity that Hermias imposes upon Socrates’ utterance. 266 The immediately preceding phrase (‘I don’t enquire into these things but into myself ’) would have been the appropriate lemma for this first comment. The soul contains within itself the logoi of the Forms that are prior to it and hence in knowing itself, it knows them. In knowing these logoi, it also understands the sensible things that are causally posterior to the logoi; cf. 45,12 below. 267 Like Bernard, we translate the text of the manuscripts. (Lucarini and Moreschini obelise holois kosmoumenos and Couvreur and Lucarini suggest possible emendations.) In the same way that, for the Neoplatonists, everything in the universe is good from the point of view of the whole even though it may not be from the point of view of the parts, the discordant and disordered is well-­ordered from the point of view of the whole although it may not be from the point of view of the parts; cf. Damascius, in Phaed. 142,3–5: ‘Typhon is the paternal and essential cause of disorder not qua disorder but as spread out in advance by him before the whole Demiurge for setting in order’ (the ‘whole Demiurge’ presumably because the Demiurge is divided into a primary demiurge and a number of subordinate ones). 268 The primary meaning of both skêptoi (here ‘hurricanes’) and keraunoi (‘thunderbolts’) is ‘thunderbolts’, but the former is used to describe various other meteorological phenomena, including hurricanes. 269 sc. (the) wrongful soul, which Hermias now seems to believe Plato himself has referred to. 270 This is a clear statement of a principle that guides much Neoplatonic allegorising. Thus, according to Proclus, Hephaestus is said to be ‘lame in both legs’ (Homer, Iliad 1.607) because he is identified as a demiurge of Becoming and his creation (the cosmos) lacks legs (Timaeus 34A); cf. in Remp. 1,126,5–7. 271 There is no scholium no. 23 in the manuscripts.

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272 Or perhaps ‘embellishes’. 273 cf. Homer, Iliad 14.214 ff. The meaning of this girdle, given to Hera in order to seduce Zeus, is allegorised by Proclus at in Remp. 1,139,1–19. 274 Who had recommended the spot. 275 Harpocration, Commentary on Plato fr. 9 Dillon; fr.14 Gioè. 276 sc. of fresh water as opposed to salt. 277 Achelous was in fact the name of a number of rivers in the Greek world and in the poets the name came to be used of any stream and of water generally (see LSJ s.v. Akhelôios). Hermias will be referring to the one in western Greece, which formed the border between Acarnania and Aetolia. 278 There is more on Dionysus as the god of rebirth at 59,16–22 below, where a second Dionysus, the son of Persephone, is also mentioned and the main myths surrounding the births of the two deities are recounted in a note. 279 cf. 29,27 ff. 280 The literal meaning of koilos is ‘hollow’ and aspects of the context and the fact that it is glossed by khthamalos (literally ‘near (or on) the ground’) suggests some such translation as ‘low-­lying’ (cf. LSJ s.v. I.2) here, but the word is also used metaphorically to mean ‘hollow, empty, void of content’ (LSJ s.v. II.2) and it surely also has that connotation here and we have settled for ‘shallow’. 281 A point already made at 34,30–35,1. 282 Phaedo 60B1. In the note at 18,31 we argued that the conjunction of that passage and this suggests that Hermias takes anakathizomenos, which would normally mean ‘sitting up’, to mean something like ‘getting up’ in the Phaedo passage. 283 The turn we have given this sentence has been determined by our (not entirely confident) assumption that palin (‘again’) looks back to the division of plants at 34,14–16. 284 Epicurus, fr. 483 Usener. 285 TrGF v. 2 trag. adespota F 186. 286 Menander, Misum. fr. 12 Sandbach. Lucarini and Moreschini believe that the passage is corrupt and obelise the words oupôpote phêsin and both sense and syntax are indeed difficult. Like Lucarini (in the apparatus) we think that Hermias believes that the two quotations (the one from a tragedy and the one from Menander) are from the same play and have translated accordingly. (Lucarini also suggests a slight rearrangement of the words in lines 24–5 but it seems to us that the transmitted word order is just tolerable.) 287 Heraclides Ponticus fr. 64 Wehrli. 288 Lucarini and Moreschini compare SVF 1.263 (Zeno) for the older Stoics and, with some hesitation, SVF 3.721 for the more recent. In the latter case at least, Arius Didymus seems more relevant. On the one hand, he defines erôs as a

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passion. It is an inclination to make love arising from visible beauty (Stob. 2,91,10 = SVF 3.395; cf. Diog. Laert. 7.113.10–11 = SVF 3.396). On the other hand he also distinguishes between good and bad lovers (Stob. 2,65,15 = SVF 3.717). The person with the erotic virtues aims for friendship, while the person who is vicious is mad with love and aims at sex. 289 The editors assume a lacuna at this point. 290 cf. Plato, Symposium 180C3 ff. 291 TrGF, Euripides fr. 929a. 292 Couvreur refers to Aristotle EE 1235 and 1244, Bernard to EE Book 8, and Lucarini and Moreschini to EE 1225a and 1235b, but in reality nothing in Aristotle is very close. 293 Other possible renderings of pathos would be ‘condition’, ‘affection’, ‘affliction’. 294 Lucarini and Moreschini compare 10,22–8. 295 Or perhaps, in view of line 21 below, ‘sick’ if en kakôi einai is here equivalent to kakôs ekhein. 296 For the opposition between dialectical considerations (epikheirêmata) and demonstrative syllogism, see Aristotle, Top. 162a16. 297 The aorist of eramai occurs only here in Hermias and, given that erastês occurs in the line immediately before the one in the Phaedrus that Hermias is paraphrasing here, it seems possible that he actually wrote erastais. 298 Accepting Lucarini’s suggestion of prattousi for prostattousi at 37,4. 299 sc. for a sexual partner rather than a friend. 300 cf. 2,15; 242,6–9. In the Phaedrus passage Plato goes on to explain that this means starting at the end rather than the beginning. 301 sc. as Plato. According to LSJ (autos I.11) autos without an article can mean ‘same’ in later Greek and we have assumed that this is an instance of that usage. 302 There are other references to letters of Lysias but not to there being anything resembling this speech among them. 303 Compare the English phrase ‘putting the cart before the horse’. Substituting an equivalent proverbial phrase from English, however, would obscure the connection with what comes next. 304 At 234A7, where Lysias again uses the phrase ‘when they lose their desire’. 305 The four lines of the epitaph could be read equally well in any order. 306 i.e. to the second argument in the list at 36,13 ff. (The argument mentioned in the next sentence will be the first in the same list.) 307 Mousôn (‘of the musical arts’) is rather awkward and amousôn, the suggestion of an anonymous reader (which would give something like, ‘from among those who are unmusical or have no experience of building’) is tempting. (The fact that the

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words immediately before Mousôn have had to be supplied by emendation increases the chances that Mousôn itself is corrupt.) 308 On this race, some features of which are unclear, see Parke 1977, 45–6. 309 Aeschines, Against Timarchus 136–7. 310 Aeschines, Against Timarchus 138–9. 311 But philoi (‘beloved’) may simply mean ‘of his own’ (for this usage in early verse, cf. LSJ s.v. I.2.c). 312 Solon, fr. 23 West; fr. 17 Gentili and Prato; fr. 17 Noussia-Fantuzzi. 313 Solon, fr. 26 West; fr. 24 Gentili and Prato; fr. 24 Noussia-Fantuzzi. 314 In the text as we have it, Hermias does not explore the further considerations offered in Lysias’ speech. Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini suppose that we have a lacuna on this basis. 315 Hermias quotes the first word of Socrates’ reply to Phaedrus. Socrates is asked by Phaedrus, ‘Is the speech of Lysias not supernaturally good (huperphuôs)?’ Socrates’ reply is meant as a corrective to this (daimoniôs men oun). It is not merely supernatural but positively daemonic (cf. Ryan 2012, 122). Since the Neoplatonists have a well-­developed view of Nature as the animating force that moves sensibles, as well as a theory of daemons as beings higher than humans but lower than angels or gods, this word provides Hermias with an opportunity to wax metaphysical on the possible connotations of Socrates’ utterance. 316 This discussion of ‘daemonically’ would be considerably more coherent if one were to delete the words ‘equivalent to’ (anti tou) and take this first sentence as a comment on Phaedrus’ use of huperphuôs (‘supernaturally’) a few lines earlier, in which case the sentence would belong before the lemma. 317 Not literally, since, as line 16 shows and as was mentioned in the note at 42,5, angels come between the gods and the daemons (cf. too 106,17). 318 This is standard Platonic doctrine, normally traced back to Symposium 202E, although there are other relevant passages in Plato. For other passages where Hermias states it, see the note at 45,23. 319 This is repeated at 62,15–16. There are no evil daemons in Plato and it may have been Xenocrates who introduced them into Platonism, where they became a fixture (see Merlan 1967, 35). 320 Lucarini and Moreschini’s punctuation seems preferable to Couvreur’s, which Bernard follows. 321 202D13. 322 Hermias refers to the supposed derivation of daimôn from daiein (of which daisasthai is a form), which LSJ is inclined to accept (‘More probably the Root of daimôn (deity) is daiô to distribute destinies’). The suggestion then is that daimoniôs (‘daemonically’) can be interpreted as synonymous with

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memerismenôs (‘dividedly’) an adverb derived from the verb merizein (‘to divide’) of which merisasthai is a form. (Proclus gives the same derivation at in Crat. 128,11–13, but in the Cratylus (398B5 ff.) Plato himself derives daimôn from daêmôn – knowing, experienced, or ‘wise’ as Plato construes it there.) 323 The basic meaning of aponoia is ‘loss of sense’ (LSJ), ‘loss of right reason’ (Lampe), which can manifest itself in various ways. Of the various nuances listed by LSJ and Lampe, Lampe’s ‘desperate, shameless wickedness’ would, in view of its pairing with kakourgia (‘villainy’), seem to fit best, and we have opted for ‘desperate wickedness’. 324 Dionysus, and by association his Bacchants, are symbols of a cosmic force that pluralises and divides things for the Neoplatonists. This is their reading of the cutting up of Dionysus into little pieces. When Socrates says that he was following Phaedrus like a Bacchant, Hermias takes this to connote that Socrates is descending to the level of Phaedrus, who loves sensible beauty. He follows him into particulars rather than remaining prior to intellect – the literal sense of pro-­noia. 325 From Homer on, kephalê (‘head’) could be employed idiomatically to refer to the whole person (see 264A8 for another example in the Phaedrus) and the adjective theios (‘divine’ or, perhaps better, ‘sacred’) is appropriate here in view of Phaedrus’ supposed Bacchic frenzy. As Plato uses the phrase, it means something like ‘[along with] your sacred person’ (Hackforth’s ‘my right worshipful companion’ catches the rather bantering tone), but Hermias cares to read it more literally. 326 On the basis of 157,7 ff. below (= Iamblichus, in Phaedrum fr. 6 Dillon) and Proclus, in Parm. 1071,25–33, Morrow and Dillon (425, n. 49) suggest that Iamblichus was the first to develop this doctrine of a one of the soul. Hermias refers to it a dozen or more times (for references see the Subject Index), most informatively at 88,23 ff. Of course not only the soul feels the influence of the One. At 43,20–1 we are told that the One gives unity to everything, at 116,11–12 that the ousia of each thing is the ‘one’ in it and at 85,28 and 95,12 a ‘one of the gods’ is mentioned. Not unexpectedly, the indications, such as they are, are that Proclus inherited his philosophy of the One and of the one of the soul from Syrianus. (For Proclus on the One see Chlup 2012, 48 ff., on the one of the soul, Chlup 2012, 163 ff.) 327 Lucarini and Moreschini refer us to Proclus, in Remp. 1,127,4 ff. where he explains the laughter of the gods at Hephaestus’ expense in Iliad 1.599–600. Their laughter connotes their providential care for that which he creates: the cosmos – their plaything. 328 The idea that functioning at a higher level involves turning in upon oneself occurs frequently in Hermias (cf. 20,11; 22,6 ff; 27,12, etc.). The only other place where this is described as contemplating oneself seems to be at 81,1.

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329 sc. the Demiurge. 330 Laws 729E6. The Laws passage has: ‘each person’s daemon and god of strangers, the followers of (sunepomenoi) Zeus the god of strangers’. 331 Retaining the manuscript reading Sôkratên with Couvreur in preference to Lucarini and Moreschini’s Dia at 43,16. Reading Dia would presumably give something like ‘Here Phaedrus has addressed Zeus alone [sc. and not the daemon] as ‘[deity] of friendship’ because in what follows (loipon) he is going to revert upon [or perhaps just ‘turn to’] him’. This makes satisfactory sense of the passage, but unfortunately Hermias normally talks of Phaedrus’ need to turn inwards or revert upon himself and nowhere of his needing to revert upon or turn to Zeus. Bernard had followed Couvreur in accepting the manuscript reading and translated: ‘Erst hier bezeichnet Phaidros Sokrates als “befreundet”, da er (sc. Phaidros) im Begriff ist, sich fortan zu ihm zurückzuwenden’, with notes arguing (1) that Phaedrus’ invocation of the Zeus of friendship characterises the nature of their relationship, and (2) that Hermias means that Phaedrus will revert upon Socrates as upon his ‘principal’. We are in basic agreement with the first part of this (and in fact Hackforth paraphrases ‘as one friend to another’), but the second part suffers from the same defect as Lucarini and Moreschini’s solution in that Hermias doesn’t go on to talk about Phaedrus reverting upon Socrates. We are inclined to think that the following pair of apparently unrelated passages point the way to a satisfactory interpretation of the manuscript reading as it stands: (a) ‘Erotic [madness] turns (epistrephei) young men to us and leads them into friendship with us, since it too educates young men, and leads young men from sensible beauty to the psychic beauty in us, and from this leads them up to the intelligible [kind], just as within it joined the one of the soul to the gods (96,20–4); (b) ‘or both [sc. mover and moved] approach one another, as do the teacher and the pupil, for the pupil gives himself over to being awakened by the teacher and the teacher is eager to awaken the pupil and is entirely focused on him (holos estraptai pros auton) [literally turned towards him]’ (115,33–116,2). In these passages either epistrephein or the simple verb strephein are used in a non-­technical sense in highly relevant contexts and we believe that epistrephein is being used in a similar way here and that Hermias is simply saying that Phaedrus addresses Socrates in warm terms because he is beginning to distance himself from Lysias’ influence and turn to Socrates. 332 Socrates asks whether we are to praise a rhetorician for merely saying ‘what the situation requires’ (Nehemas and Woodruff 1997), but Hermias (as is the way of the Neoplatonic commentators) manages to invest the passage with metaphysical significance. In doing so, he makes use of the ambiguity (on which the argument at Aristotle, SE 165b35–9 also turns) between physical or situational necessity

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and moral obligation in the noun deon, which, at least according to LSJ and presumably also according to Hermias, ultimately derives from the verb dein, ‘to tie’, ‘to bind’. The pivotal point of the argument is the phrase ‘for the Good is binding’, which in relation to what precedes is naturally interpreted as ‘morally binding’ but in relation to what follows as ‘physically binding’. Our translation attempts to get some of this across. (For the Good, or One, as holding together and unifying all things, see Proclus, ET Prop. 13.) 333 Adopting Lucarini’s suggestion of houtôs for autôi at 43,20 (see the apparatus ad loc.). 334 The basic meaning of poiêtês is ‘maker’ but Hermias is concerned that it will be read as ‘poet’ and feels some explanation is in order. Unfortunately, ‘poet’ doesn’t have the range of use that poiêtês does in Greek so we have fallen back on ‘composer’. In a later passage (at 50,10), where no such issues are at stake, we use ‘writer’. 335 Homer, Iliad 14.296. (The Neoplatonists regularly counted Homer among the ‘theologians’.) The passage comes from Hera’s seduction of Zeus. Homer writes that Zeus desired Hera as he had when they first began to have sex, eluding the notice of their parents. In his commentary on the Republic Proclus informs us that his teacher, Syrianus, had an extensive treatment of this passage (in Remp. 1,133,5). Proclus’ summary of Syrianus’ teaching on this specific aspect of the episode seems to agree with what Hermias suggests here. The properties of good things – including sexual intercourse – are double. One property is innate, while the other comes down from higher causes. When Zeus and Hera have sex, eluding the notice of their parents, this signifies the former. In the potentially public intercourse on Mount Ida, they are drawn back up to their own causes (in Remp. 1,139,20–30). 336 cf. Proclus, in Remp. 1,239,7 ff. 337 For this ‘psychic’ love, see the note at 45,23. 338 Perhaps equivalent to ‘anecdotally’. 339 These logoi are the psychic equivalents, or images, of the Forms in nous, in fact in the Demiurge himself (179,14–17). They are present in all human souls, though not in those of animals, and are what makes conceptual knowledge possible (178,25 ff.). Although they are always present, we do not always have conscious knowledge of them (54,15 ff.). In fact, when a soul is embodied it loses all awareness of them (67,15 ff.) and only gradually, and often only partially (167,23 ff.), regains it. This regaining of awareness, or ‘recollection’ as it is called, is triggered in the first instance by the images of Forms in one’s physical and social environment (178,30 ff.) but seems to require an already enlightened mentor like Socrates in its final stage, knowledge of the intelligible forms

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themselves (179,18 ff.). The same complex of ideas is present in Syrianus and Proclus and is discussed (with more emphasis on Syrianus and Proclus than Hermias) in Helmig 2012. (Because the logoi constitute the essence of soul and are the principles of other things, logoi is often translated ‘reason-­principles’ when used of them, but because Hermias is clearly concerned with them qua universal concepts (at 179,4 he actually refers to them as universals), we have preferred the rendering ‘concepts’.) 340 ‘Essentially’ present because, as well as being basic for cognition and concept formation, the logoi are actually constitutive of the soul. 341 proballein is the standard verb for activating such innate concepts (essentially, bringing them into consciousness). It is commonly translated ‘project’ but Helmig, 2012, 290–5, argues that ‘put forth’ or ‘advance’ are usually more appropriate translations. We have used ‘project’, ‘produce’, ‘advance’, and ‘put forth’ depending on which seems to work best in a given context, usually with an indication that proballein is the word being translated, and ‘projection’ for the related noun probolê at 68,24, the only place it occurs. 342 The reference of autous (‘them’) is not entirely clear. Perhaps it refers (rather loosely) to the logoi of spiritual and chaste love. 343 Symposium 190A–B. 344 Phaedo 70C5–6. 345 This ‘psychic’ love is ‘middle-­level’ because it is midway between the lustful love of Lysias, which is associated with the perceptible and phenomenal world, and the higher, elevating love of Socrates, which is associated with the intelligible realm, just as soul itself is midway between the physical and the intellective; cf. 46,5 ff. (All three types of love are present at 46,12–20.) We similarly hear of three types of beauty (all three at 86,17 ff.), and three levels of Forms / concepts. (For the highest and intermediate kinds, see the note at 47,11. The lowest, the phusikoi logoi, are mentioned at 101,20.) ‘Intermediacy’ is in fact a prominent theme in the commentary. In addition to the above, daemons are midway between men and gods (42,12–13; 70,12; 225,7–8; 226,23–4; 268,5–6), the god Eros is an intermediary between the higher and lower levels of the universe, binding them together (57,25–6), and at 110,25–9 we are told that Nature never moves direct from one extreme to another but always via a middle term. 346 Plato, Alcibiades 1 109–10. One of five references to the Alcibiades in Hermias (this being the only one in the present volume) that Segonds (1985, xxxv–xxxix) sees as evidence that Syrianus lectured on it. He also cites (xxxvii, n. 1) Pépin for another probable allusion to the Alcibiades, for which see the note at 108,13. 347 Both Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini believe that the words pantes de panta eisi (‘all men are all things’) are corrupt but, like Bernard, we think the text

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is sound. It seems to us that there is a reference to the Neoplatonic idea (already invoked in relation to Sappho and Anacreon earlier in this lemma at 45,10–13) that the human soul (like all souls) contains the logoi of all things (and is indeed constituted by them) and that the suggestion here is that we therefore have unlimited potential but only actualise part of it – which is how Sappho comes to be good-­looking and Anacreon smart. 348 ouketi (‘no longer’) could mean ‘not as it was in the Timaeus’ (69C ff., 73C–D and cf. 34A) (although there was a tradition – mentioned in Olympiodorus, in Alc. 1 2,65 – that the Phaedrus was the earliest of the dialogues) or just mean something like ‘as we had assumed’, or even, as is sometimes the case, be not much different from the simple negative. (There was in fact a long-­running debate in antiquity as to whether the brain or the heart was the seat of the higher faculties, with Alcmaeon, Hippocrates, Plato, and Galen inter al. favouring the brain and Aristotle and Chrysippus inter al. favouring the heart. There is a good summary of the evidence in Crivellato and Ribatti 2007.) 349 The translation ‘divine head’ is literal, as Hermias’ interpretation requires, but, as the note on the phrase at 43,1 explains, the phrase is idiomatic and the tone in the Phaedrus bantering. 350 cf. 44,18–19. 351 Assuming that gnôsin eilêphamen is equivalent to egnôkamen. (For the usage see LSJ lambanô, A.II.3.) 352 cf. 45,21 ff. 353 Compare Aristotle, Athenian Constitution 7,1 and Plutarch, Solon 25.2. Aristotle’s text says that the oath was still taken in his day but gives little detail – nothing, for example, about the statue being sent to Delphi or whether it is to be of a specific person or of a specific size or weight. Plutarch, on the other hand, does say that the statue is to be set up at Delphi and to be isometrêtos (for which see 47,15 and note ad loc.), but, as Hackforth points out in a note, Plutarch could have taken these details from the Phaedrus where they may be only part of Phaedrus’ own undertaking and not part of the original oath of the archons. 354 For these symbols see the note at 28,1. Here Delphi and the Pythia are a symbol of the sun, or solar series, because Apollo is both the god of Delphi and identified with the sun itself by the late Neoplatonists (see the notes at lines 12 and 13); cf. 32,4 ff., where we are told that the altars and sanctuaries of the gods indicate the assigned spheres (lêxeis) of the gods and contain their irradiations. 355 Clearly, then, the golden statue must stand for the ‘beauty of the cosmos’. It is an appropriate symbol in that both are images (eikonikos hints at this here and it is spelt out later at 48,21–6, when Hermias looks back to this passage) and (perhaps) in that both are sensible and beautiful.

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356 to plêmmelôs kinoumenon – an allusion to Timaeus 30A4. 357 cf. 159,7–8 and 185,6–8. For Platonists, that the sun is the ruler of the visible cosmos is a commonplace ultimately inspired by Plato, Republic 509D. For a brief overview of the treatment of the sun in Greek literature and religion and in pre-Proclan Neoplatonism, see Berg 2001, 145–7. 358 sc. as he is at Delphi. For Proclus (Siorvanes 1996, 174) the supra-­cosmic sun was personified by Apollo so that Porphyry could (with Proclus’ approval) describe Apollo as the sun’s intellect (Proclus, in Tim. 1,159,28), but the same god could appear at more than one level in a series (cf. the case of Zeus at 142,25 ff.) and Proclus argues that Apollo and the sun are in a sense identified in Plato (PT 6,58,1 ff.). 359 LSJ glosses isometrêtos ‘of equal measure or weight’, and Hackforth’s ‘life-­sized’ seems a reasonable interpretation of the former (isos of course takes up iso- in the compound adjective isometrêtos). 360 One could tone this down and translate ‘like it’. 361 For this interpretation of hairetos, cf. 48,3 below, where to haireton is equated with ‘that which is beneficial to ourselves’. 362 Reading kai Lusiâi, which is supported by the manuscript M and the scholium ad loc., with Bernard rather than the vocative Lusia with Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini. Socrates shouldn’t be addressing Lysias but arguing that there are certain arguments that are mandatory for himself, for Lysias, and for anyone else arguing for the position that Lysias and he have adopted. 363 A spelling out of some of the implications of what Socrates has just said rather than a true quotation. 364 But propherontai ton logon (here translated ‘deliver their speeches’) may simply be a circumlocution for ‘speak’. 365 More literally ‘from the same state [of mind]’. Lysias, of course, is duplicitous and offers his speech in the hope of having sex with the object of his lust. Socrates’ motives are also complex, but they are clearly not the same. 366 The Cypselids are Cypselus and his family and descendants. 367 Strabo (8.3.30,15–16 and 8.6.20,22–5) and Pausanias (5.2.3,3 ff.) both mention this gold statue of Zeus but attribute it to Cypselus himself. It also appears in Photius (Lexicon K 194) and Suda (K 2804), both of which cite attributions to Cypselus (Agaclytus), who is said to have dedicated it as a thanks offering for his having secured the tyranny, and to Periander (Didymus). 368 Syrianus’ view of the creation in the Timaeus (which Proclus inherited) was actually rather complicated. On the one hand it could be described as fourfold (Proclus, in Tim. 1,310,15 ff. and PT 5,42,6–9), involving the creation of (a) wholes in a universal mode, (b) parts in a universal mode, (c) wholes in a partial

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mode, (d) parts in a partial mode (there are other ways of translating this); on the other hand as double (in Tim. 3,311,21 ff.), the first phase then being (a) and (b) above, which were, wholly or largely, the direct work of the Demiurge (for the cosmos as a whole comprised of wholes that is created by Zeus, see 161,26–8), the second (c) and (d), which were carried out by agents of the Demiurge. The first phase of this double creation could then be referred to as invisible, the second as visible (e.g. at in Tim. 3,311,24). The agents of the Demiurge in the second phase of the double creation were the so-­called young, or recent, gods of Timaeus 42D6, who were (or, perhaps better, included, since in Hermias Hera (34,9), Apollo (98,21), Dionysus (59,20; 97,29; 161,30), and the Bacchantes (42,30) are all also associated with the creation) the earth and the heavenly bodies. The chief of these was of course the sun, and this is no doubt why the sun is said to be in charge of the visible creation here (neither Plato nor Proclus ad loc. says as much, but in his fullest account of the theology of the sun PT 6,63,14–17 Proclus says that everything in the cosmos receives perfection and being from the sun and that it is the demiurge of what is generated). For the phases and agents of creation in Proclus, see Opsomer 2000 and for the ‘young gods’ in particular in Proclus, Opsomer 2003. 369 cf. supra 47,8 ff. Actually, of course, a summary of Hermias’ view of the inner meaning of Phaedrus’ words rather than anything resembling quotation of them. 370 The ‘intelligible cosmos’ (noêtos kosmos) can mean nous as a whole, i.e. everything between the One and Soul, as at Proclus, in Remp. 1,286,30; in Tim. 1,229,12; Hermias 35,4, but on other occasions the phrase refers to the model, or paradigm, for the visible cosmos, as at in Tim. 1,434,22 and Hermias 47,14. The Demiurge, being a rather junior figure in the hierarchy of nous, can hardly rule the intelligible cosmos in the first sense and at first sight it is difficult to see how he can even in the second, since the model (the living-­thing-itself) is actually senior to him. However at in Tim. 1,324,15 ff. we are told that the Demiurge in a sense absorbs the living-­thing-itself and by doing so becomes the intelligible cosmos to the extent that this is possible in the intellective realm and at in Tim. 1,307,21 ff. Proclus quotes Iamblichus to the effect that ‘True essential being (ousia) and principal of those things that come into being and intelligible paradigms of the cosmos, which we call “intelligible cosmos”, and all those causes which we hold to pre-­exist in all natural entities, all of these the Demiurge god whom we are now seeking has gathered together in unity and holds under his sway’ (tr. Runia and Share 2008; our emphasis). 371 Or perhaps ‘manifold’, ‘variegated’. In any case, the point is that Lysias, and, until now, Phaedrus, only have eyes for earthly beauty with all of its manifold

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variations, whereas Socrates contemplates intelligible beauty in all its simplicity and unity. 372 Rejecting Lucarini’s addition of . 373 epaphê, mempsis, and aphormê are three glosses for labê (sometimes the only three) that crop up in the ancient lexica and one suspects that Hermias has needed to consult one of them. Although nothing under labê in the lexica explains the gloss mempsis, LSJ gives ‘find fault with, censure’ for the middle of the related verb lambanein. The word epaphê has various senses and it isn’t really obvious which is intended here and labê is presumably glossed by aphormê here and in the lexica with an eye to the metaphorical use of the wrestling term. 374 Reading anistanto for enistanto, as tentatively suggested by Couvreur in his apparatus and tentatively approved by Lucarini and Moreschini in theirs. 375 What can we infer from Hermias’ extended explanation of this wrestling metaphor? It is a commonplace for Plato (Republic 544B5), who may himself have been a wrestler. Is the audience so unfamiliar with the sport of wrestling that such a long-­winded explanation is necessary? Certainly the organised games that featured wrestling contests were gradually dwindling in late antiquity as traditional festivals ceased to be celebrated. Thus the Olympic games at Elis ended in 392 and the games in Antioch in 529 (Bowersock, Brown and Grabar 1999, 460). Alternatively (or perhaps additionally) the young men who attended the schools of philosophy may not have had the same involvement in traditional athletic activities as Plato and his contemporaries did. 376 Literally something like ‘whatever a questioner asked’, but there are no questions in what follows. 377 Here the verb skhêmatizein in the middle connects this act of pretence with the wrestling metaphor since the wrestlers resume the same position or skhêma. 378 Phaedrus actually says something like ‘don’t force me to say’. 379 A TLG search doesn’t turn up any evidence of this usage as such, but in the metaphysics of procession and reversion, the reversion of an effect upon its cause is accomplished through similarity (di’ homoiotêtos) of that which reverts to that from which it proceeds (for this see Proclus, ET Prop. 32) and Hermias now connects this with the similarity in the wrestling metaphor, tas homoias labas. 380 On its own, as a gloss on autoskhediazôn (‘speaking without deliberation’) akhronôs energôn would normally mean something like ‘performing extempore’, but the continuation suggests that we are to understand ‘without deliberation’ as indicating that Socrates will operate on the level of nous (which grasps things instantaneously by direct apprehension rather than by discursive methods), that is, on his normal level of operation. However, it isn’t clear what aspects of Socrates’ speech are meant to exemplify this and at 51,8 we are in fact told that

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Socrates will deliver his speech with his head covered because he will be operating on an level inferior to his own. (Translating the Phaedrus, we would render autoskhediazôn ‘speaking impromptu’ or ‘improvising’ (Hackforth’s choice) or the like, but we have chosen ‘speaking without deliberation’ because it works tolerably well both in the context of the Phaedrus and in that of what we take to be Hermias’ interpretation of Plato’s words.) 381 cf. the note on poiêtês at 43,26. 382 Or perhaps ‘the Good’. 383 Proclus too rejects the idea that there is anything that it is purely evil without some admixture of good; cf. On the Existence of Evils 9,4–10. 384 At 227D6 ff. Phaedrus claimed that it would be beyond him to repeat Lysias’ speech from memory in a way that did justice to it. Socrates replies that he has no doubt that he could and goes on to swear ‘by the dog’ (a standard euphemistic oath of Socrates’) that he is sure that he has the speech by heart. Now, here at 236D4 ff., Socrates has similarly claimed that it would be beyond him to produce anything at short notice to rival Lysias’ speech and Phaedrus responds by swearing, with his own euphemistic oath, that he will never bring another speech to Socrates unless he tries to emulate Lysias. The two oaths are presumably said to be similar either in that they are both of the euphemistic kind (which is not to say that Hermias doesn’t take Socrates’ oath seriously; cf. 28,1–6) or in that the second one deliberately parallels the first – or for both reasons, and Phaedrus to now be on an equal footing with Socrates because he has neatly turned the tables on him. Phaedrus will be benefited in that Socrates’ speech will begin the process of weaning him from his obsession with phenomenal beauty and elevating him to the contemplation of higher forms of beauty (cf. 3,13–16; 9,11; 10,12 ff.). 385 Homer, Odyssey 12.382–3, where Helios swears that unless he is compensated for the slaughter of his cattle by Odysseus’ men he will go and shine in Hades. Phaedrus of course threatens that Socrates will be the loser if he doesn’t deliver his speech, but Hermias turns this round and suggests that the subtext is that Phaedrus stands to be the loser if Socrates doesn’t give him the benefit of his company. This being so, the reference to Helios’ oath is ill-­placed, since it serves as a parallel to Phaedrus’ statement rather than to Hermias’ comment. 386 See 234D6 and the note ad loc. at 41,1. 387 Presumably this remark needs to be seen in the context of Timaeus 48A, though in Plato’s text the emphasis is on the manner in which intellect persuades necessity – not on threats made on the part of necessity in order that it should be informed. 388 This initially appears to be a rather flagrant re-­writing of the import of Socrates’ reply to Phaedrus – as if Hermias cannot allow for the possibility that Socrates

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here expresses a rather self-­centred concern that he might be deprived of hearing future speeches from Phaedrus. But the image of the banquet is regularly associated with the activity of the gods; cf. Proclus, in Tim. 1,18,7; in Remp. 1,167,2. 389 Or perhaps ‘stop at’, ‘go no further than’. 390 Lysias operates at the phenomenal level and his speech reflects this. Socrates’ natural level is the intelligible, but he pitches his speech at the psychic level with a view to elevating Phaedrus. 391 The Greek of this clause is, if nothing else, clumsy. Lucarini would delete the words erôtos hupo tôn pollôn tou akolastou and other possible excisions or rewritings readily suggest themselves. A further difficulty is the positioning of hopôs pote here. At 3,15; 4,27; 51,23 (perhaps) and 76,15 the phrase is used with kat’ Erôtos mellein legein or equivalent phrases, giving ‘is going to in a sense speak against love’ or the like, which makes perfectly good sense, whereas here, although we again have the kat’ Erôtos mellein legein phrase, hopôs pote qualifies legomenou, and requires a different translation. At first sight this would seem to bolster the case for emendation. However, a similar, if rather more coherent, sentence at 74,18 ff. closely parallels this one, which seems to guarantee the positioning of hopôs pote here. Our best guess is that Hermias read (or heard) Syrianus’ text differently, and perhaps not always correctly, at different points. All things considered, we have thought it best to resist the temptation to emend and (as does Bernard) do our best with the text as it stands. (Significantly, hopôs pote occurs 14 times in Hermias and twelve in Syrianus but not at all in Proclus and only rarely in other commentators.) 392 Repeated almost word for word at 74,20; perhaps a quotation. 393 Lines 9–10; 34,30–5; 35,9–10. 394 hopôs pote is again a bit of a problem. The translation takes it with erôtos, as the word order suggests one should. However, this gives the phrase a third rather different meaning in a series of very similar contexts (for the others, see the note at 51,18) and perhaps one should, despite the word order, translate, ‘Or it is because he is going to in a sense speak against love’, which would bring this passage into line with some of the others. 395 For the offence, 242B8 ff.; for the need for purification, 243A2–3. 396 cf. 243E9 ff. 397 These suggested reasons for Socrates’ delivering his speech with his head covered may, as often, be intended to complement each other rather than be mutually exclusive. 398 27C2–3. 399 As far as the Phaedrus is concerned, the gods chiefly responsible for elevation are, as one would expect, the twelve Olympians of the myth in Socrates’ second

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speech (141,20–5 and 142,16 ff.). In the complex system of Syrianus and Proclus (Hermias cites Syrianus for details at 137,17 and 20) they are two levels below the Demiurge and are headed by a ‘third Zeus’, the Demiurge being the first. Proclus refers to them as the hypercosmic-­encosmic gods (PT 6,72–114) whereas Hermias simply calls them hypercosmic. (Both Hermias and Proclus also refer to them as the apolutoi theoi, or the gods detached [from the cosmos] – Hermias 145,24.25; Proclus PT 6,76,21, etc. – a term derived from the Chaldaean Oracles, but, to judge from Hermias, Proclus follows Syrianus closely in most important respects.) Among the twelve there is a triad of gods that facilitates ascent (as there also is among the gods at the level above), which is referred to as reversion in Hermias (142,31 ff. and 143,21–2), where the gods are unnamed but said to be female (143,21–2 again), and as elevation in Proclus (PT 6,82,20, etc.), where they are identified as Hermes, Aphrodite, and Apollo (PT 6,98,14 ff.). However, in the Neoplatonic system everything reverts upon its causes, all the way up to the One (see Proclus, ET Props 31–9 with Dodds’ notes), and higher agencies at every level could be said to have a role in reversion or ascent. Apart from Socrates and daemons (to which angels and heroes are added at 106,17–18), subordinate elevating agencies mentioned in the commentary include, most prominently of course, the higher kind of love and Love himself (who is either an encosmic god or a daemon; 13,22 ff.; cf. too 77,4 ff.), other winged deities, such as Hermes (already mentioned above) and Nike (133,25–6), and the Nymphs (68,17 ff.). In addition, the human soul itself is said to possess a permanent capacity for elevation, though it may be inactive (138,25 ff.), which is symbolised in the myth of the palinode by its good steed, and in particular by its wings (131,11–12), which in turn represents the circle of the Same (128,25–6, etc.) which enters into its composition in the Timaeus. 400 Proclus makes the Timaeus passage that Hermias cites here the occasion for an excursus on prayer (in Tim. 1,206,26–214,12). At 211,8–212,1 he distinguishes five phases of ‘perfect and true’ prayer, the fifth and ultimate being union with the gods. ‘[B]ecoming like the divine in respect of complete purity, chastity, education, and ordered disposition’ (tr. Runia and Share 2008) is the second. 401 For similar moral condemnation of being vulnerable to the allure of, or ‘wide mouthed for’, external things, see Simplicius, in Epict. 119,13 and 132,14. 402 cf. Phaedrus 259D1. 403 The normal term for a mode is harmonia, not eidos; cf. Proclus, in Remp. 1,60,15 ff. Hermias here pre-­empts any possible misunderstanding on the part of people not versed in the vocabulary of musical theory. 404 The suggested punctuation is supposed to make it clear that Socrates is attributing to Phaedrus the expectation that his speech will only make Lysias

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look cleverer rather than asking the Muses to assist him in order to make Lysias look cleverer. 405 Following Bernard in closing the quotation marks at this point; Lucarini and Moreschini close them at the end of the paragraph. 406 A clear statement of the ‘two worlds’ thesis that is often attributed to Plato in epistemology. Changeable things in the realm of nature are only ever objects of doxa; never of epistêmê. 407 Although LSJ only suggests ‘coming after the fable’ (or when the word is used nominally, ‘the moral’) for epimuthios, some such rendering as that in the translation seems to be required here (epimuthos – which also appears in the printed edition of Couvreur that we have seen, though not in the TLG text – is an error). 408 Emending skoteinou to skoteinês (cf. lampras in line 15). 409 Plato has epistasai (‘you know’) at 230E6 rather than akêkoas (‘you have heard’), although akêkoas does occur later in the sentence. 410 A more literal rendering would be, ‘the other, with all truth, demonstration, and knowledge’, but, although the same verb still reigns, the focus seems to have shifted from the behaviour of the writer to the nature of the content and it seems best to take some liberty with the translation. 411 apateôn is actually a noun (‘cheat’, ‘rogue’), but in the examples that follow aimulos is clearly an adjective and Hermias presumably intends this and the other glosses on the word as adjectives. 412 Homer, Odyssey 1.56–7 and Hesiod, Works and Days 374. 413 As 61,31–3 shows, for Hermias these include relatives, friends, and possessions. 414 cf. Aristotle, An. Post. 89b–90a. In the Alexandrian commentators Aristotle’s four questions, to hoti, to dioti, ei esti, ti esti (‘the fact, the reason why, if it is, what it is’ in Ackrill’s translation) become ei esti, ti esti, hopoion ti esti, dia ti esti (‘if it is, what it is, what kind of thing it is, why it is’) and each is related to one of the four ‘dialectical methods’ – diairetikê, horistikê, apodeiktikê, analutikê (division, definition, demonstration, analysis) – in that order. cf. Asclepius, in Metaph. 448,12 ff.; Philoponus, in DA 43,15 ff.; in Phys. 205,25 ff.; Simplicius, in Phys. 520,20 ff.; Olympiodorus, in Gorg. 2,8,6 ff.; Elias, in Isag. 3,3 ff.; 37,9 ff. (probably most informative); David, in Isag. 1,14 ff. 415 ‘Inasmuch as’ followed by ‘nevertheless’ is slightly awkward, but the general sense is clear enough. Hermias’ argument here seems to suggest that the presence of the logoi in the soul is as often responsible for mistaken judgements as correct ones (probably more often in fact). This is at first surprising, but if the logoi are what make conceptual thought possible at all (see 178,30–179,14 for an account of how things work when the process goes smoothly), there is a sense in which they

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are behind its miscarriages as well as its successes. (Although Helmig has a section (2012, 317–24) on the topic of recollection and error in the Neoplatonists, he doesn’t discuss this passage. Hermias’ position is close to that of Proclus in his commentary on Plato’s Alcibiades; see especially in Alc. 1 7,4–8; 15,3–7, which are cited by Helmig on p. 319.) 416 The Greek (ti tôn merikôn) is neuter, but the continuation suggests that we are to think of a person. 417 Porphyry similarly compares the arrangement of subordinate genera and species under a genus to a family tree (Isagoge 5,23 ff.). 418 An. Post. 97b32. 419 But perhaps something like ‘But love is said by the many to arise from pleasure in bodily beauty’ would do more justice to epi hêdonêi. 420 We have used ‘substance’ faute de mieux, but we are dealing with something more like a faculty than a substance in the Aristotelian sense of the word. 421 As elsewhere, Hermias uses the important Neoplatonic triad ousia, dunamis, energeia, to structure his argument. For more on this triad, see the note at 77,20. 422 cf. Philoponus, in An. Pr. 6,14–18 (quoting Themistius); Proclus, in Crat. 1,10–2,4. Alcinous (Epitome 6.1–7) actually claims that Plato uses a range of different types of both categorical and hypothetical syllogism and cites what he takes to be examples of them. 423 In the next sentence ‘reason’ and ‘irrationality’ become ‘the non-­rational soul’ and the ‘rational soul’, and in fact alogia here could be translated ‘the irrational part of the soul’ (see LSJ s.v. 2, citing Porphyry, Abst. 1,42,5). 424 Presumably this means that he is using terms that are more current in everyday language than ‘reason’ and ‘unreason’, although the phrase, which is a hapax, is actually rather odd, literally giving something like ‘and addresses each out of [or ‘from’] the more common’. 425 ‘Opinion’, ‘belief ’, and ‘judgement’ are all possible renderings of doxa. We used ‘opinion’ earlier, but in what follows, especially, at 57,9 ff., ‘judgement’ works better. 426 ‘Nature’ here is the growth principle of the composite of body and soul, as the subsequent sentence makes clear. It would not do to locate the principles of Nature (understood as a cosmic principle) in the non-­rational soul. For the growth principle as product of the non-­rational or appetitive part of the soul, see Porphyry, ad Gaurum 6,3. 427 GA 736b28; 744b21–2. 428 Here and in what follows ‘style of life’ translates zôê. 429 This is familiar from Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics (1145b1 ff.). Strength of will (enkrateia) is not part of the virtue of temperance. The temperate person feels no

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psychic conflict, since the pleasures of the licentious hold no allure for him. The person who has strength of will feels the attraction but overcomes it. As such he is better than the weak-­willed person (who at least has the decency to feel urgings of reason, though he ignores it). In the licentious person, reason raises no dissent to the pursuit of shameful pleasures. Hermias revisits this distinction again at 205,2 ff. 430 The sentence, whether through corruption or bad writing, is difficult and Couvreur, Bernard, and Lucarini and Moreschini all resort to emendation. We have, without any great conviction, followed Lucarini and Moreschini’s text. 431 Although we have followed the punctuation of Lucarini and Moreschini, most of the material enclosed between quotation marks is (fairly loose and interpretative) paraphrase rather than direct quotation. 432 This derivation has already appeared at 3,23 ff., where this passage was referred to. 433 For Love as intense (suntonos) or high strung, see Symposium 203D. 434 One would expect the subject to be erôs, but ‘desires’ represents the feminine participle epithumousa and as the text stands the unexpressed subject must be either ousia (‘essence’) or (as at 61,3–4) epithumia (‘desire’). One could overcome this minor difficulty by emending epithumousa to the indicative form epithumei, which would allow erôs to be the subject and at the same time improve the syntax. 435 At 252B8–9. There Pteros, which may be Plato’s coinage, is presented as the gods’ own name for Eros and there is a verbal play on Erôs / Pterôs, but here Hermias treats it as simply an epithet for one kind of love. 436 On this ‘intermediacy’ of Eros see the note at 13,25. 437 Evidently Hermias felt there was a need to gloss eirein. 438 In rhetoric huperbaton is the technical term for the transposition of words or clauses. 439 cf. the comments on dithurambous (‘dithyrambs’) at 59,13 ff. where he spells this out. 440 Explaining this brief interruption in Socrates’ speech is important given the previous criticisms about a lack of continuity in the speech of Lysias. 441 cf. Aristotle, Topics 102a18. For this terminology, see Alexander, in Metaph. 176,18 ff. 442 In other words the interruption is simply designed to mark the transition from the definition to what can be deduced from it. Socrates turns to these deductions at 238D8 (see 60,2 ff.). 443 We take it that this means that Socrates wants to communicate to Phaedrus his feelings about the kind of language he has fallen into. However, the words that

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follow might seem to suggest that Socrates has sought Phaedrus’ opinion about his language and manner of delivery and Bernard accordingly translates, ‘daß er sehen wollte, wie Phaidros sich verhält und wie er sich stellt angesichts solcher Reden’. 444 The syntax (and the translation) is clumsy, but the point is simply that we come under the jurisdiction, so to speak, of different gods depending on the lives we have chosen and the way we live them. 445 Calypso and Circe enjoy rich allegorical treatment among the Neoplatonists. Olympiodorus’ Phaedo commentary allegorises Calypso as phantasia and Circe as sense perception. Odysseus’ progress from the one to the other is an advance in understanding; cf. in Phaed. 6,2,5–10. 446 cf. 34,20–1. 447 For numpholêptos see the note at 4,19. 448 eupathôs (‘susceptible’) has perhaps been chosen because it shares a root with pathos (‘passion’) and with some tenses of the verb from which peponthenai (here translated ‘in the grip of ’) comes. 449 Lucarini and Moreschini, correctly we think, follow Couvreur in assuming a lacuna. Bernard defends the transmitted text. 450 The (Heraclitan) analogy between the physical world and a flowing river has already been invoked at 29,21 and 29 ff. and 34,26 ff. 451 Or perhaps ‘Love’, but the continuation is rather against it. 452 We would say ‘composed’. 453 The rich mythology of Dionysus includes two major versions of his birth. According to the more common of the two he was the child of Zeus and Semele. At the prompting of the jealous Hera, Semele persuaded Zeus to show himself in all his glory and was incinerated by the resulting thunderbolt. The foetus somehow survived and Zeus sewed it into his thigh where it came to maturity and was born a second time. According to the second tradition, which was favoured in Orphic writings, Dionysus (or Zagreus) was the child of Zeus and Persephone, or Kore. At the prompting of a jealous Hera, the young child was abducted, dismembered, and in part eaten by the Titans. However, his still beating heart was rescued by Athena, and Zeus fed it to Semele, from whom Dionysus was duly reborn. (There are sub-­variants of both versions.) Obviously, these two stories could either be seen as different (if thematically similar) versions of the birth of the same god or as evidence for the existence of two gods (in which case Zagreus / Dionysus was sometimes referred to as ‘the first Dionysus’), and Hermias evidently takes the second view here. (Bernard, wrongly we think, understands korikos at 59,16 in the alternative sense of ‘maidenly’.) 454 cf. Damascius, in Phaed. (2nd version) 8,1–2.

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455 Probably an allusion to the so-­called second creation, on which see the note at 48,21. 456 The claim is that the name Dithyrambos is formed from di, meaning ‘twice’ and thura (from which thuraze is formed) meaning ‘door’ or ‘entrance’ and that Dithyrambos is he who exits twice (from Semele and from Zeus’ thigh) and/or he who sends things out for a second time (or, as it turns out, repeatedly). The same etymology of Dithyrambos occurs in a number of authors, sometimes also linked to his double birth (in Olympiodorus, in Alc. 1 2,56–9 among the Neoplatonists), but sometimes to the story that he was raised in a cave with two entrances and at least once (Anon. in Rhet. 176,32) to a story that he had both male and female genitalia. 457 Who of course (cf. 58,28) also preside over generation. 458 This looks like a further explanation of the name Dithyrambus, in which case lines 22–5 are somewhat parenthetic. The thunderbolt refers to Dionysus’ first birth from Semele, which was the result of Zeus showing himself in the form of a thunderbolt, and his breaking out with his horns presumably to his birth from the thigh of Zeus (which would make this a variant of the double birth explanation). Although Dionysus is often portrayed with horns, there does not seem to be any reference to his using them to escape from Zeus’ thigh. We are however told in several lexica (e.g. Etymologicum magnum 277,35–7) and in two sets of scholia that some (including Stesimbrotus) call him Dionyxos (Dionuxos) because, being born with horns, he pierced (enuxe) the thigh of Zeus, which may point in that direction. 459 The sentence is difficult (in fact, Bernard suggests emendation) and we have resorted to paraphrase. 460 For modern scholars Socrates is expressing the hope that Nymph-­inspired frenzy may yet be averted rather than the fear that Phaedrus will prevent its taking hold of him (Hackforth, for instance, translates ‘possibly the menace may be averted’). 461 sc. from the definition of love qua passion; cf. 57,29 ff. 462 On the face of it one would expect aiskhros to mean something like ‘shameful’, ‘base’, ‘ignoble’ in the present context but what Hermias goes on to say suggests that he intends something like ‘ugly’. (At line 17 ff. he says that the aiskhros is the opposite of the physically beautiful and at line 33 ff. he argues that the lover is sick and that sickness is a kind of deformity.) However, that said, it seems clear that the lover’s sickness and consequent ‘ugliness’ is as much a moral as a physical condition and we have settled on ‘warped’, which can cover both physical deformity and moral depravity. (Incidentally, Plato himself doesn’t use aiskhros in the present context.) 463 On Hermias’ analysis, Plato will derive them from the definition of love at 238E2 ff. (cf. line 32 ff.). Hermias will meanwhile identify them by other means.

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464 66A4 ff. 465 agathos and kakos, the most general terms for ‘good’ and ‘bad’ in Greek, have, like their English equivalents, a wide range of usage and invite different translations in different contexts. That Hermias glosses to sumpheron with to agathon in line 23 below and opposes it to blaberos (with which kakos is paired) here, suggests some such rendering as ‘pernicious’ for kakos. 466 cf. line 32 ff. 467 Notice that ‘unprofitable’ (which takes up Plato’s ‘not at all profitable’ at 239C1) has replaced ‘harmful’ and ‘pernicious’, which means, in effect, that the privation has replaced the opposite. 468 The reference is to 238D8–240A8 and Plato’s term is ôphelia rather that sumpheron. 469 The entry for baskanos in Lampe (and those for related words in LSJ) suggest that ‘jealous’ might be an appropriate translation here, but we have preferred ‘malicious’ to differentiate the behaviour here from that described in the next clause. 470 The verb (diakôluein) is repeated from the previous clause and is not very appropriate here, and Couvreur, Lucarini and Moreschini, and Bernard all, probably rightly, suspect the text. However, it is not easy to guess what Hermias may have written and we have translated the transmitted text. 471 228A–B. 472 227A13 ff. 473 Not actually a quotation, but presented like one. 474 The ancient lexica (clearly influenced by this passage) similarly agree in defining ‘dry sweat’ as the kind produced by hard work or in the gymnasium. Perhaps the idea is that it will dry on the skin as it is produced, especially in the case of outdoor exertion in a hot climate. (For Hermias the point seems to be that no liquid is involved in its production.) 475 sc. money, property, etc. 476 Presumably these daemons are those mentioned at 74,4 ff. and 79,11 ff. For pleasure as a lure, cf. Sophist 222E6 and Timaeus 69D1. 477 The daemons allotted to each of us when we choose a life (70,13 ff.) and those allotted to families (101,27 ff.) are presumably yet other ‘races’ of daemon. 478 amousos (literally ‘without the Muses’) can often be translated ‘unmusical’ and it is doubtless with this in mind that Hermias has chosen the verb sunarmozesthai (literally ‘be fitted together’), which can be used of instruments playing together. 479 The manuscripts have kathêkôn after ‘son’ (huios), which Couvreur described as suspect and Lucarini and Moreschini obelise. It is difficult to find a satisfactory sense for the word in the context and it was in fact added in a later hand in A (the main manuscript, from which the rest derive) and may have begun life as a gloss.

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480 Although the editors indicate a lacuna here, the transmitted text is perhaps just possible if one assumes a kind of anacoluthon. However we are on balance inclined to think that something has indeed dropped out. Couvreur proposes oute kathelkei to kreitton eis kheiron but this doesn’t really work. Our proposal is eis to heautou presbuteron kai teleioteron oute ou [surely ou is required] kathelkei to kreitton eis kheiron, which will have been omitted on the assumption that it was an accidental repetition of the almost identical words earlier in the sentence. The first kind of unlikeness is the procession-­mate of likeness and profits from consorting with it and in doing so does it no harm. It is this kind of unlikeness that underpins the student–­teacher and son–­father relationships. It is the deleterious kind of unlikeness associated with matter that, by implication, prevents those of different ages from enjoying or profiting from one another’s company. (For the idea that unlikeness is the source of matter in things (and form and the intelligibles the source of likeness) cf. Proclus, in Tim. 2,78,25–7.) 481 An ostrakon can be either a shell or a potsherd and perhaps either could be used in the game. In any case the object used either had, or was deemed to have, a lighter and a darker side. 482 Plato comicus fr. 168 Kassel and Austin = fr. 168 Pirrotta. This Plato was a contemporary of Aristophanes and seems to have written on similar topics. 483 The line is a little awkward and emendation has been suggested (details in Lucarini and Moreschini’s apparatus). The translation assumes that amphoterôn (‘both’) here means something like ‘from the two groups’. 484 Either the child who tosses the shell asks ‘Night or day?’ and someone from the other side chooses, or he says one or the other as he tosses it. The punctuation adopted in the translation assumes the second alternative, but Lucarini and Moreschini’s punctuation would need to be changed in either case. 485 sc. of the side that is underneath after the shell lands. In the quotation, on the other hand, it looks as though the side that tosses chases if the light side lands up and runs if it lands down. 486 LSJ lists various possibilities for epitheiazein and it isn’t really clear what sense Hermias has in mind here. (To further complicate matters, LSJ’s entry for epitheazô begins ‘= epitheiazô, invoke the gods against’, although that doesn’t square with anything in the entry for epitheiazô.) 487 For this highest part of the soul cf. 29,5; 43,1; 46,21.28; 88.26. 488 The full line, which Hermias reproduces at 66,3, is said to be a proverb in ancient scholia on the Phaedrus and on the Iliad. 489 But perhaps ‘parodies’ is a little strong, and we note that Lampe gives ‘cites with alteration’ as a possible sense for the verb.

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490 Iliad 22.262–3. 491 Lucarini and Moreschini incorrectly include dia touto (‘on that account’) in the quotation. 492 The phrase actually seems to be no more than a simple formula of closure, something like, ‘That’s it then’. 493 The metre of epic poetry – although the verse Socrates quotes doesn’t appear to come from an epic poem. 494 cf. the note at 65,9. 495 Perhaps tou should be added before metron at 66,13. 496 (1) cf. the note at 55,29 for ‘the irrational [part of the soul]’ as a rendering of alogia. (2) For the Neoplatonists ‘nature’ is somewhat akin to the lower part of soul, containing the logoi of things and bringing them to life, but not to be identified with it (see, for example, Proclus, in Tim. 1,10,13 ff.). (3) kinein is perhaps more or less equivalent to ‘inspiring’ (for ‘inspiration’ extending to all parts of the soul, cf. 89,20 ff.), but, as Hermias goes on to tell us, Socrates is only interested in the inspiration of the higher parts of the soul. 497 periagein here is reminiscent of the simile of the cave in Plato’s Republic, where the verb and the cognate noun periagôgê are repeatedly (514B2; 515C7; 518D4, etc.) used of the prisoners turning from the shadow-­world in which they have lived to the real world behind them, a simile of course for the turn from the world of becoming to the Forms and the Good. 498 The reference is to Timaeus 42E5–6, but the phrase ‘to his own watching-­place’ is taken from the similar passage at Statesman 272E5. For more detail, see Bernard’s note ad loc. 499 Or perhaps, ‘having squandered time’. 500 cf. Phaedo 72E5, etc.; Meno 81D4–5; E4. 501 Republic 533D2, where it is said that the eye of the soul is at times sunk in the barbaric mire of Orphic myth. 502 Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini both cite 186 ff., but this doesn’t seem to fill the bill. Broadly speaking, perception is discussed and rejected at 151D–187B, correct judgement tout court at 187C–201C and correct judgement accompanied by an account at 201C–210B. Erroneous judgement is not, of course, put forward as a candidate for the meaning of knowledge, but is discussed at some length (187D–200C) during the discussion of correct judgement. It is not immediately clear what stage in the dialogue Hermias is referring to. His telling us that sense perception, erroneous judgement, and correct judgement have been rejected suggests 201D. The ‘cause with [the appropriate] account’ will then be ‘correct judgement with [the appropriate] account’, Theaetetus’ next suggestion. (Hermias’ talking of a ‘cause’ rather than a ‘definition’ isn’t really a problem: Plato himself

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doesn’t use either word.) The difficulty, of course, is that the implication would be that Theaetetus is about to come up with the correct answer to Socrates’ question, whereas his answer is rejected and the dialogue ends in aporia. Perhaps Hermias thought that Theaetetus’ final answer is somehow the right one, even if he hasn’t yet achieved the correct formulation of it. Another possibility is that Hermias is looking to the end of the dialogue. There Socrates refers to his own maieutic skills and suggests that should Theaetetus return to the question they have been discussing he might be in a position to answer it on his own, which certainly squares with Hermias’ statement that Socrates has cleared the way for Theaetetus to come up with an answer by himself better than anything at 210D. On the other hand, it is difficult to see the end of the dialogue as the moment when Socrates has shown ‘that knowledge is neither sense perception nor erroneous judgement nor correct judgement, so that Theaetetus can produce [its] cause with [the appropriate] account from within himself ’. (One could at a pinch argue that ‘correct judgement’ includes ‘correct judgement with an account’ and that the ‘cause with [the appropriate] account’ is whatever correct solution Theaetetus will ultimately produce – the assumption being that any solution will need to include an account – but that seems rather desperate.) 503 Equivalent to ‘having dropped out of the gods’ circuit of the heavens, in which it had participated’. 504 sc. once the rheum has been removed from its eyes. 505 Removing the comma before tote at 67,31. 506 In Plato ek pronoias actually means something like ‘deliberately’ rather than ‘with providence’. 507 See the note at 45,12 for the translation of probolê and the related verb proballein. 508 Hermias would normally talk of logoi rather than ennoiai in this kind of context (cf. for example line 6 above). He probably settles for a synonym because of the presence of logôi (‘word’) earlier in the sentence. 509 Or perhaps, ‘It was [his] practice’, since it is clearly Plato’s (or Socrates’) practice that Hermias has in mind. Also, it is something of a problem that Hermias goes on to offer two specific examples (‘at one time . . . at another’ would probably really be more accurate than ‘sometimes times . . . sometimes’) where we would expect a more general statement. 510 Republic 621B8–C2 (with some adjustment of the syntax) and cf. Laws 645B in the former case; Theaetetus 164D8–9 and cf. Philebus 14A4 in the latter. 511 cf. Statesman 275E5 and 66,31 above. Hermias likens Socrates to the universal helmsman in the myth. This myth seems to have been a focus for elaboration in the Neoplatonists’ commentaries. See Dillon 1995. 512 cf. 67,15–16; 22–4.

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513 There is a play on the two senses of enulos: enulos (wooded) areas should be avoided at times of extreme heat so they will depart from the enulos (enmattered) or earthly sphere. 514 statheros, histanai, and stasimos (line 23) are all formed on the root sta. 515 ‘Divine’ would not be the best translation of theios in Plato (Hackforth renders the phrase ‘Phaedrus, your enthusiasm for discourse is sublime’), but it is appropriate enough to Hermias’ interpretation of the passage. 516 The word commonly implies that some disparagement is intended. That clearly is not the case here, but perhaps there is a recognition of the bantering tone of the passage. 517 Although we have followed Lucarini and Moreschini in treating this as direct quotation much of it is actually paraphrase. 518 In view of 70,4, one would have expected something like ‘and a part of the soul frequently wants us to do something’. 519 What follows amounts to a miniature treatise on daemons. Other significant material on daemons may be found at 42,5 ff. and 62,14 ff. 520 202D13–E4. 521 Republic 571C6. Even the good person possesses the lawless desires that dominate in the tyrant, as evidenced by the content of dreams in which we do terrible things. 522 Republic 620D6–E1. 523 Republic 619B7–C2. 524 These perhaps correspond to the ‘natural virtues’ which stand at the base of the Neoplatonists’ graded system of the cardinal virtues; cf. Baltzly 1997. 525 For the Neoplatonists, the pneuma (literally, ‘breath’ or ‘spirit’) was the ‘vehicle’ of the soul. (For soul-­vehicles see the note at 73.5.) 526 cf. lines 3–8 above, and for the last sentence Aristotle, EN 1095b19–20. 527 Enneads 4.3(= On Difficulties About the Soul I).18.22–4. 528 Following Bernard in adding psukhês after Peri at 72,17. 529 For other examples of ‘divine (theoi) men’, cf. 266,16 ff. It is surprising that Herodotus should appear to qualify as one. 530 Homer, Odyssey 11.109; 12.323, and Herodotus 1,47,14, where Apollo’s nose tells him that Croesus is preparing a tortoise and lamb stew. (The assignment of the second passage to Herodotus depends on the acceptance of a highly plausible emendation proposed by G. Roskam.) 531 For these ‘vehicles’ see the note at 74,2. 532 Couvreur reads ephistasi but Lucarini and Moreschini report that the manuscript reading is actually ephistôsi (presumably from ephistan, which, like ephistanein, functions as an alternative form for ephistanai in the present tense and should be capable of the same range of meanings, although these are not all attested in the

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lexica), which, for reasons outlined by Lucarini in an earlier article (Lucarini 2012, 243), they emend to diistasi. Bernard had translated Couvreur’s ephistasi ‘haltmachen’, which would give something like ‘but stop at [or perhaps ‘draw a line at’] the appetitive power’ and Lucarini, while agreeing that this is the necessary translation, argues that it has the intolerable affect of having Hermias first state that ‘the divine and ancient men’ (73,8–9) denied that the gods experience appetition and then in the next breath say that one of the two he actually mentions was of the opposite opinion. (Lucarini was not yet aware of the correct manuscript reading, but the same arguments would apply to it.) As a matter of fact it seems to us that Hermias may not mean to include Plotinus and Iamblichus among the divine and ancient men. It is true that ‘divine’ (theios) is the standard honorific epithet of Iamblichus (in Hermias it occurs at 118,32; 142,16; 150,2; 157,7; 225,21), but it isn’t normally applied to Plotinus and when Hermias refers to divine men in the previous paragraph (at 72,19) they turn out to be Homer and, it seems, Herodotus. More significantly, elsewhere in Hermias ‘ancient’ (palaios) is only applied to much earlier thinkers than Plotinus and Iamblichus. (probably Heraclitus at 29,21; Sappho and Anacreon (following Plato) at 45,10; Homer at 230,6; Orpheus, Hermes, Pythagoras, and Socrates at 271,11–12) and it seems unlikely that he would so describe them, and them alone, here. So, as far as the context goes, one could perhaps translate something like: ‘Speaking generally, one should be aware that the divine and ancient men allow the heavenly gods the cognitive powers . . . but draw the line at the appetitive power. And while Plotinus gives [them] even this, Iamblichus dissents.’ However there are other objections to ephistasi / ephistôsi: the translation ‘stop’ or ‘draw the line at’ really implies the passive form ephistantai / ephistôntai rather than the active form found in the manuscripts; and peri with the genitive is odd after ‘stop’ anyway. Lucarini’s emendation diistasi makes good sense whether or not Plotinus and Iamblichus are among the divine and ancient men, but it too is problematical: as with ephistôsi, we would expect the passive form of the verb rather than the active and it is palaeographically unlikely that the more common word diistasi would be corrupted to the much less common, not very similar, and contextually difficult word ephistôsi. We suspect that Hermias actually wrote neither ephistôsi nor diistasi, but having no suggestions of our own, have translated Lucarini and Moreschini’s diistasi. 533 Nothing in Plotinus seems to support this. (Couvreur tentatively, but not very convincingly, suggests 4.4.8). Dillon doesn’t include the reference to Iamblichus in his collection, but it is fr. 177 in Larsen. 534 Although the daemons alone become the subject at 73,28 the reference back to 72,26 ff. in the next sentence suggests he should have the ‘higher genera’ in mind at this point.

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535 The two occurrences of ‘impact’ in the sentence are a little puzzling. Perhaps the first is produced at the site of the vocal equipment and the second when the sound thus produced strikes the air. 536 Homer Iliad 1.198, where Athena makes herself visible to Achilles alone during the assembly of the Greeks. Apuleius (de Deo Socr. 21,12 Moreschini) cites the same Homeric passage in a similar context. 537 For the later Neoplatonists no individual soul, even those of the heavenly bodies, can exist apart from a body, or ‘vehicle’ (Proclus, ET Prop. 196). This means that the human soul must be housed in a body even when it no longer occupies this earthly one. In fact for Proclus, who apparently followed Syrianus in this (Proclus, in Tim. 3,236,32), the human soul actually has two such bodies (or three if one counts the fleshly, or ‘oyster-­like’ body): a ‘first body’ or ‘luminous vehicle’, which houses the rational soul, and a ‘pneumatic vehicle’, which houses the irrational soul. Daemons too have both these soul-­vehicles (Dodds 1963, 320–1), though not a fleshly one, and it is through their respective luminous vehicles that humans and daemons can on occasion communicate (73,28–74,2; cf. Sorabji 2004, vol. 1, 226–7). Interestingly, though, the two-­vehicle doctrine is not obviously present in Hermias. There are clear references to an everlasting and immaterial luminous vehicle (74,2; 136,27 ff.) and there may be a reference to a pneumatic vehicle when Hermias refers to pollution of the pneuma at 78,33, but the ‘more fundamental’ senses in the pneuma at 73,23–4 are surely the same as those in the luminous vehicle at 74,2 (which is presumably why Couvreur emended ‘luminous’ (augoeidei) to ‘fundamental’ (arkhoeidei)), and ‘our vehicle’ (without further qualification) is said to be limpid and pure after the soul’s departure from the earthly body. See Helmig and Steel 2015, 3.3 for a brief account of soul-­ vehicles in Proclus, Dodds 1963, 313–21 for the history of soul-­vehicles in Greek thought and beyond, Sorabji 2004, vol. 1, 70–6; 221–38; 242–3 for soul-­vehicles in the commentators. 538 What follows amounts to an attempt to reconcile the hierarchy of daemons outlined at 62,17–26 with what was said about our personal daemons at 70,13 ff. 539 Or ‘subordinated’ (and likewise in line 8). 540 The first translation that comes to mind for exêirêmenôi is ‘transcendent’ and Bernard does in fact translate it ‘transzendenten’. However the reference is clearly to our personal daemon and it is hard to see why this should be described as transcendent, and as it happens Hermias has all but explicitly denied transcendence to it at 70,22 ff. The uncompounded participle hêirêmenôi would be more expected, but exêirêmenôi in this sense is certainly possible and ‘of its nature [or ‘essence’] chosen’ makes good sense as a description of the daemons that specialise in overseeing our souls.

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541 ‘Its own deity’ will be the one in whose following it made the circuit of the heavens in the myth (246E ff.), the daemon ‘that comes under it’ one of those in the same grouping (for the presence of daemons in the circuit cf. 246E6; 106,13 ff.). The point seems to be that even if a soul chooses an appropriate life (e.g. philosophy in the case of a soul from Zeus’ company; Hermias associates the nine lives that are assigned to descending souls with particular gods at 174,33 ff.), which it may not do, it will at different times be governed by daemons other than the one assigned to it at the time it chose that life. 542 Plato, Republic 617E1. 543 cf. 51,19–20 and Proclus, in Crat. 51,44 ff. 544 As the editors indicate, there seems to be something wrong with the text at this point and we have accepted Bernard’s plausible emendation of the transmitted eikonas onta heautois anierôsen (heautois om. M) to eikonas onta ha autois anierôsen. Apparently, the first Athenian Neoplatonist to explicitly compare the names of the gods with their cult images was Hierocles, a slightly older contemporary of Hermias (Berg 2008, 112) and the comparison was a favourite one for Proclus (see for example in Crat. 51,19 ff.; 96,1–2; PT 1,124, 21 ff.). Proclus’ commentary on the Cratylus is of course our main source for later Neoplatonic teaching on divine names (and names in general) and the present passage, and a few others (for which see the entries under ‘Plato, Cratylus’ in Lucarini and Moreschini’s Index auctorum, adding 188,28–30, which probably goes back to Cratylus 389A5 ff.), suggest that Syrianus had, as one would expect, at least read the Cratylus, and possibly even lectured on it and, as often, set the pattern for Proclus. 545 12C2–4. 546 This scholium, the bulk of which is taken verbatim from the Onomasticon (a kind of encyclopaedic dictionary) of the second-­century grammarian Julius Pollux, which in turn draws on Aristotle, Ath. Resp. 7, is obviously intended to elucidate to thêtikon at 74,14. It looks like a marginal note (probably not added by Hermias himself) that was subsequently copied into the text at an inappropriate place and both Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini understandably bracket it. 547 Proclus even distinguishes various levels of the seer’s art as it occurs among the gods, though he does not explain the limitations that the lower levels are subject to; cf. in Tim. 1,158,12–17. 548 Presumably, as Bernard suggests ad loc. (cf. too 76,15–16), with respect to the names of the gods (eulabeia could in fact be rendered ‘reverence’, ‘piety’, or the like). 549 Or possibly, in view of the reference to the rational nature of the soul, ‘it often makes correct calculations about future events’.

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550 Neither LSJ nor Lampe give this sense for stokhastikos but both recognise ‘diviner’ as a possible translation of stokhastês. 551 As Bernard remarks, this appears to be simply a gloss on a rare word. (For eulabeisthai, cf. the note on eulabeia at 75,21.) 552 Couvreur posits that some verb for blaming has fallen out. The argument requires that Socrates’ speech is condemned – not absolutely – but insofar as it concerns only the middle-­level kind of love. 553 It is a little odd that Hermias should say that this middle-­level kind of love is on show in the virtues and sciences as well as ‘in the chaste life of the soul’, although it obviously suits his argument at this stage to do so. A little later, at 77,14–15, he more naturally talks of ‘the chaste kind of love and the psychic beauty of the sciences and the virtues’. 554 Perhaps Hermias actually wrote dio kai dis eipe to deinon (‘It is for this reason that he used “dreadful” twice’) and the words ô Phaidre, deinon were a subsequent addition. 555 It is odd that Hermias should say that Lysias’ speech is shameful love and compare Socrates’ speech with inspired love. Perhaps ‘love’ has been interpolated in both cases and Hermias wrote, ‘For the speech of Lysias really is terrible, since it is shameful and hubristic, while that of Socrates is also terrible as compared to the inspired and elevating one [sc. Socrates’ second speech]’. On the other hand, unless it is only the lacuna there that gives that impression, he has already used the same kind of language in line 6, so perhaps he is deliberately writing this way. 556 Presumably the reference is to 74,22–5, but for eulabês cf. eulabeia at 75,21, with note, and eulabeisthai at 76,2. 557 Syntactically this last clause should refer to the good men, and one could conceivably (though improbably) translate: ‘because they [sc. the victims] are not diminished or dishonoured’, in which case anaides would have to mean without shame to the victims. 558 The syntax is awkward and kêlêthentos (‘beguiled’) looks like a marginal gloss that has found its way into the text, which would give, ‘enchanted with respect to [one’s] physical aspect and all [one’s] irrational side’. 559 203C–D. 560 51,26–7; cf. 86,8–10. 561 proêgoumenôs in conjunction with oikeia is difficult and, as Couvreur points out, proêgoumenê (for which cf. 43,4 and line 22 below) would be easier. 562 This is consonant with the line of argument opened at 76,6 to the effect that Socrates’ first speech has only a relative deficiency. 563 The triad of ousia, dunamis, and energeia (which also appears at 13,18 ff., 55,11 ff., 127,10 ff., and 145,15 ff.) is frequently used as a tool of analysis by the

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Neoplatonists. It structured Iamblichus’ work on the soul, as well as Proclus’ commentary on the ‘construction’ of the World Soul in the Timaeus (see Baltzly 2009, 21–2). The triad is ordered so that the dunamis of a thing results from its ousia and its energeia results from its dunamis. Hermias deploys the distinction here in conjunction with key concepts in the metaphysics of procession: remaining, proceeding, and reversion. In the case of unmediated causation, the cause both proceeds and also remains in itself (ET Prop. 30). In general, the energeia of things at lower levels of being does not imitate causation in this respect: activities are often outwardly directed. But in this case, the activity of the gods is such that the subject remains united with the activity. So if thinking is an activity, divine beings will think themselves and nothing else, while beings such as ourselves may think things other than ourselves. 564 anadromê – and perhaps anodos in lines 5 and 10, even though the dictionaries don’t so gloss it – could also be rendered ‘return’. 565 Emending ton prôton to tên prôtên. It is hard to see what the masculine form ton prôton can refer to other than the first of the hypothetical men whereas what is required is a reference to the primary activity, as is shown when the analogy is applied to the cases of Socrates and Lysias in lines 5 and 10. (For similar uses of prôtos cf. lines 3 ff.; 23 ff., etc.) 566 Assuming that this is a past unreal condition without an. 567 Like Bernard, we retain the manuscript reading katorthôn at 78,8 in preference to Couvreur’s emendation katelthôn, which Lucarini and Moreschini print. The point surely is that, unlike the third hypothetical man (77,29–30) or Lysias (lines 8–9), Socrates behaves ethically even when he directs his attention to secondary concerns. (Katorthoô isn’t listed in the required sense in LSJ, but cf. katorthôma and katorthôsis in LSJ and katorthoô B in Lampe). 568 auton must refer to katharmos (‘rite of purification’) at 243A4. This is very abrupt and Couvreur suspects that some words that included a reference to katharmos have been lost, but in their Index nominum rerumque grammaticalium notabiliorum Lucarini and Moreschini list other cases where Hermias appears to use autos to refer to things that he has not previously mentioned. 569 Hermias is offering an etymological explanation of the sense in which Socrates’ proposed purification is arkhaios which we have tried to catch in the translation. The obvious rendering of arkhaios is ‘ancient’ and we would prefer ‘first principle’ for arkhê. 570 Or perhaps ‘digesting’ (for which cf. LSJ s.v. II.2), although LSJ doesn’t give examples of the metaphorical use of ‘digest’. 571 palin and ôidên play on palinôidian and on that level a secondary reading of the sentence is: ‘Hence he has returned to the ancient palin-­ode, the very first [one of

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all]’. If this reading is correct, the reference is to Stesichorus’ poem (the first palinode) rather than, as Bernard suggests, to the Iliad (the first poem), and although tên prôtistên (‘the very first’) is, as Lucarini and Moreschini remark, at first sight rather odd (it in fact looks rather like an intrusive gloss on arkhaian (‘ancient’)), its correctness seems to be guaranteed. 572 sc. here on earth. 573 The pneuma here refers to the pneumatic soul – a psychic vehicle that houses the irrational soul (cf. Philoponus, in DA 17,19–18,31). This psychic vehicle is the subject of punishments in Hades and is purified. Eventually the soul sheds it in its ascent to the intelligible realm, retaining only the luminous vehicle that is intrinsic to it. The idea that one’s pneumatic vehicle could be polluted by virtue of vicious actions is a commonplace among the Neoplatonists. The notion of pollution being communicated by vapours is unique to this passage, though the background is not hard to guess at. Pagans were often concerned that Christian veneration of the bodies of saints and funeral processions through cities would spread pollution (cf. Caseau 1999, 36–8). The Neoplatonic philosophers were certainly alive to this form of pollution as evidenced by the anecdote from Eunapius (Lives, 459) where Iamblichus turns his disciples aside to an alternative route when his finely attuned psychic vision alerts him to the fact that they are following a pathway along which a dead body has recently been carried. 574 See the note at 88,17 for the term ‘telestic’. 575 Rather surprisingly, Hermias seems to be the only non-Christian author to use apelatikos, which Lampe only lists as an alternative spelling to apelastikos and LSJ only lists in the supplement, and only in the latter spelling. On the purificatory virtues, see Baltzly 2006. On the purification of the rational soul through refutation in particular see Layne 2009. 576 sc. suffering from the kind of pollution that the daemon oversees. 577 For this daemon, cf. 74,3 ff. (In fact comparison with that passage makes Bernard’s suggestion of ephistasthai têi toiaide tou anthrôpou zôêi for epistasthai tên toiande tou anthrôpou zôên, which would give ‘presides over a given way of life of a person and is assigned to him’, tempting. (Notice that here it is the daemon that is assigned to the person whereas it was the other way round at 74,5 and 8, which may be a sign that something has gone wrong with the text.) 578 Because Socrates’ sin was one that was peri muthologian, the homeopathic principle for remedying pollution requires that his cure be effected dia tês muthologias. 579 Couvreur believes that the text is defective at this point and Lucarini and Moreschini indicate a lacuna. We have translated the transmitted text (as does Bernard), taking peri (78,27) with katharsin and apoblepsin as well as energeias.

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(In fact peri after the phrase heauton epidedôke is odd and a TLG search fails to turn up other examples. However Hermias does use peri with koilotera and phrases containing koiloteros after diatribein, energein, and strephesthai in similar contexts and perhaps that is behind his use of it here.) 580 Pollution is a matter of strict liability, to use the jargon of modern courts. It requires purification even if there has been no intention of transgressing against the gods or if the transgression has occurred in the pursuit of some valuable end. Compare the case that Euthyphro brings against his father. Modern readers tend to regard Euthyphro’s case as dubious since his father did not intend the death of the worker who committed the murder and might not even be regarded as having caused it through negligence. But Euthyphro’s concern was not with his father’s mens rea, but rather with the pollution that attached to his household as a consequence of his father’s actions. Plato’s contemporaries were doubtless intended to regard Euthyphro as foolish for bringing this case – but for different reasons. It could not be pious to indict one’s own father. 581 Vita Sexta (‘The Roman Life’), in Munro and Allen 1912, vol. 5, alone contains this explanation of Homer’s blindness. 582 This Alexander is better known as Paris and Ilium as Troy. 583 The following anecdote about Leonymus is connected to the previous train of thought because it was he who allegedly carried to Stesichorus the message from Helen that he needed to compose the palinode in order to regain his sight; cf. Pausanias 3.19,11–13. For a discussion of the possible Pythagorean origins of the story, see Burkert 1972, 153. 584 Leuke (commonly referred to as the White Island) was situated in the Black Sea and was the site of a cult of Achilles into Roman times. 585 Lines 10–27 = PMGF 1, Stesichorus TA 42. 586 First passage Odyssey 4.122, second, Iliad 3.156–7. 587 The translation assumes that the second ‘disposition’ is the subject of the infinitive anablepsai and that its recollection of true beauty and redirecting its gaze towards it parallels Stesichorus’ regaining of his sight. However the infinitive is syntactically awkward and the phrase looks a bit like a gloss on anablepsen at 243B3 and Couvreur may have been right to bracket it. 588 The translation cannot really capture the repetition of the ana- prefix among the verbs in this sequence: anamnêtheisan . . . anapemphtheisan . . . anablepsai. This contrasts with the first disposition of soul that remains in sensible beauty and does not look away (mê ananeuousan). 589 It is tempting to look for significance in the fact that Homer is a paradeigma, Stesichorus an eikôn, and Socrates an endeigma, but this is probably just stylistic

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variation (cf. the similar use of tekmêria, eikôn, and endeigma at Proclus, in Tim. 3,114,23). 590 Bernard helpfully invites us to compare Republic 518C on the studies that turn the eye of the soul from becoming to being. 591 cf. Iliad 2.594–600, where the Muses either blind Thamyris or disable him in some other manner (the exact meaning of the key word pêros is unclear) and take away his musical gifts. 592 Broadly speaking, the theologians are the inspired poets, and Homer is the first among them. Of course, it is not strictly true that Socrates everywhere sings their praises and Lucarini and Moreschini can do no better than offer Ion 533–4 in support of Hermias’ statement. 593 Although we do not have his commentary on the Phaedrus, Proclus also discusses this passage in Essay 6 of in Remp. at 1,173,1–177,3. The purpose of Essay 6 is to explain away or soften Plato’s apparent criticisms of Homer and Proclus focuses on what he sees to be the unfavourable comparison of Homer with Stesichorus. His line is that on a literal reading of the stories about their blindness Homer comes off worse, but on a deeper one (which is similar to the alternative reading provided by Hermias) it is Homer who comes off the better. He then argues that Socrates chooses to make use of the literal reading because it best matches the situation in which he finds himself. Interestingly, Proclus introduces Demodocus where Hermias introduces Thamyris, which makes more sense since Demodocus, like Homer, retained the gift of song (cf. Odyssey 8.64), whereas Thamyris, as we saw, lost his musical abilities. (It is also possible that Proclus didn’t interpret pêros in the Iliad (for which see the note at 82,1) as ‘blind’, which would have made Thamyris seem even less suitable to his purposes; he does in fact refer to Thamyris again at 1,194,7 ff. – where he too quotes the line in which pêros occurs – and at 2,313,7 ff. without any indication of what he took Thamyris’ infliction to be.) Of course, both singers (possibly along with Orpheus, who is also introduced by Proclus, though not by Hermias) may well have been discussed in Syrianus’ class on the Phaedrus and Hermias may have chosen to make use of the one and Proclus of the other. 594 sc. in the Phaedrus. Like Proclus, Hermias is prepared to accept that Socrates does not penetrate beyond the surface meaning of the stories of the blindness of Homer and Stesichorus. 595 Hermias provides this brief allegory of the Trojan war in order to show how the mention of Helen conforms to his view of the skopos of the dialogue. 596 Probably a reference to the ceaseless struggle of the opposites that is sometimes said to take place in the substrate, or in matter; see, for example, Proclus, in Alc. 1 222,8–11; Elias, in Cat. 179,1–6; Olympiodorus, in Meteor. 146,27–8.

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597 As Bernard points out in a useful note, the prefix itha- means ‘here’ and the Trojans, being ‘born here’, appropriately symbolise enmattered forms, which are located ‘here’ on earth, as opposed to rational souls, which originate ‘there’ in the intelligible realm. (Actually, Homer nowhere refers to the Trojans and Greeks as ithageneis and epêludes and the terminology presumably just reflects the fact that the Greeks are invaders.) 598 Perhaps, in view of what has gone before, ‘as their home’. 599 Homer, Iliad 5.451–2. The image in question in this passage from the Iliad is not, of course, Helen but rather the image that Apollo made of Aeneas to save him from Diomedes. Given the context, it is somewhat odd that Hermias feels no scruples about selectively quoting Homer in order to vindicate Stesichorus’ alternative version of the story of Helen at Troy. 600 The translation assumes that it is intelligible beauty that is an ‘attractor of intellect’ and that the participle ousa, which should then be neuter, has been attracted to the (feminine) gender of helenoê. (There is also the further irregularity that the phrase helenoê tis ousa is a kind of nominative absolute, but this would remain true if Helen, the only other candidate, were the ‘attractor’.) As the phrase ephelkomenê eis hautên ton noun shows, the suggestion is that helenoê (which seems to be a hapax, perhaps coined for this passage) is derived from helein (‘grasp’, ‘catch’) – or perhaps helkein (‘attract’) – and the root of nous (‘intellect’). Of course helenoê is also a play on the name Helenê and Hermias may well have also had it in mind that helenê means ‘torch’ and thought of something like ‘a beacon for the intellect’ as a secondary sense of Helenoê. Finally, as Bernard suggests, Hermias may be countering in passing Aeschylus’ more negative plays on Helen’s name at Agamemnon 687 ff. (for details see her note ad loc.). 601 The reference is to the Myth of Er. The souls go shooting upward (anô eis tên genesin, 621B2) from the Plain of Forgetfulness to incarnation in the first of the lives they have chosen and a thousand-­year journey of the souls is mentioned at 615A3 and at 621D. However, the ten thousand year cycle is actually a feature of the myth here in the Phaedrus (248E6) and doesn’t appear in the Republic, and although the prophet does appear in the Myth of Er (first at 617D3), it is Er himself rather than the prophet who talks of the souls shooting up and of their thousand-­year journey. 602 Homer, Iliad 2.319–29. 603 sc. during the lives they have chosen and live through during phases of embodiment. 604 Lucarini and Moreschini compare Republic 617–19 where the importance of choosing the best and most suitable life available is emphasised (618B2 ff.) but

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the advantages of the lives of the philosopher, the lover, etc. are not canvassed. The list of elevating lives here actually derives from Phaedrus 248D2 ff. 605 The sentence is a difficult one, the antecedent of peri hôn (which Couvreur suggests should be emended to the singular peri hês) in particular being unclear, and Couvreur, followed by Bernard and Lucarini and Moreschini, posits a lacuna at this point. Our rendering attempts to make sense of the transmitted text. We take it that ‘the passage currently under discussion’ (ta prokeimena) is the material discussed under this lemma prior to the last paragraph (Stesichorus, Homer, and Socrates, the need for prompt recantation after offending a god, etc.) and that the claim is that from the interpretation of Helen, the Greeks, and Trojans, etc. in the previous paragraph it has emerged (as it did from discussion of the earlier material) that the message of the palinode to Helen is that we should turn our backs on mundane beauty and contemplate the intelligible kind. 606 A reference to the beauty in poetry and speeches and the like, from which Socrates is of course trying to wean Phaedrus. For en sunthesei (‘in composition’) cf. 49,2–4, for exô rheon (‘outward flowing’), where the reference is to speech as opposed to internal mental processes, cf. 19,24. 607 For this juxtaposition, cf. 178,26–7, where it is said that the irrational soul has never seen ‘the truth and the intelligible region’. 608 The part of the sentence for which the palinode is cited appears to be tên en tôi ho estin autên alêtheian tên hôs theon (‘the truth itself [that is located] in that which is, [or truth] qua god’) and the corresponding passage in the Phaedrus to be tên en tôi ho estin on ontôs epistêmên ousan (something like: ‘the knowledge that is in that which is truly existent’) at 247E1–2. As can be seen, all that remains of the Phaedrus passage is the words tên en tôi ho estin, which makes one wonder why Hermias chose to cite it at all. If he really wanted to refer to the soul’s visit to the Plain of Truth in the palinode there were surely better ways to do it. Both Ast and Couvreur thought it unacceptable that the Phaedrus’ en tôi ho estin on ontôs should be reduced to en tôi ho estin and Ast suggested adding on ontôs to the quotation after estin and Couvreur changing autên to ontôs. To us the switch from epistêmên to autên alêtheian tên hôs theon seems more problematical. The change is not, as it might seem, merely a more or less tolerable glossing of epistêmên. In the immediate context of the Phaedrus passage we are told that knowledge is one of three examples of the things the discarnate soul gazes upon (justice and temperance being the other two) as it circles the heavens in the train of the gods and in the cited passage itself Socrates is telling us that the knowledge the soul beholds is knowledge of true being as opposed to knowledge of the generated, perceptible world. Truth, on the other hand, is, as we learn later (see 183,6–11; 140,12–13,19–20; 159,4 ff.), a kind of light that emanates from the

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Good and makes it possible for the intellect to know intelligible things in the way that the light of the sun makes it possible for us to see visible things (this is, of course, a Neoplatonic commonplace inspired by the Republic). Far from their being identical, truth is what makes knowledge possible, and although knowledge is (as we shall see) itself a god, Truth is yet more exalted. In the circumstances, even given the Neoplatonists’ somewhat cavalier attitude to texts, it seems unlikely that Hermias would have deliberately substituted alêtheian for epistêmên. It may not count for much that when, at 162,2 ff., he explains a different phrase in the same sentence in the Phaedrus, we see that he is well aware that Plato is talking about epistêmê, but there is in fact another passage that seems quite telling. Commenting on the phrase kathorâi men autên dikaiosunên, kathorâi de sôphrosunên, kathorâi de epistêmên (‘it gazes upon justice itself, gazes upon moderation, gazes upon knowledge’; text at 247D5–7, Hermias’ comment at 160,17 ff.), Hermias argues (rather bizarrely) that the addition of autên (which he correctly understands with all three nouns), means that Plato is talking about justice, etc. ‘qua gods’ and that he would have written autodikaiosunên, etc. had he been referring to them qua forms. In the light of this it seems to us that the occurrence of the words autên . . . tên hôs theon in Hermias’ citation adds greatly to the probability that he actually wrote epistêmên rather than alêtheian – and, incidentally, tells strongly against Couvreur’s proposed emendation. On balance then – although we translate the text of the manuscripts as printed by Lucarini and Moreschini and, despite his misgivings, Couvreur – we are very much inclined to think that Hermias actually wrote epistêmên rather than alêtheian. 609 The term mousikos has a broad connotation, ranging over votary of the Muses, cultured, artistic, musical, a lyric poet, and more. Hermias’ double gloss suggests that he wants it to embrace both ‘lyric poet’ and ‘musical’ in a way that extends to an understanding of the harmony of the universe, and therefore to an understanding of anything, like defamation of Helen, that creates a discordant note in it. 610 cf. 34,2 ff; 35,9 ff. 611 Plato uses the Doric gennadas rather than the Attic gennaios. Perhaps this is what prompts Hermias to explain its ‘meaning’. 612 Lucarini and Moreschini cite Statesman 302A and Republic 488B for the evil ways of seamen and Laws 704A–C (perhaps 704A–707D would be better) for the claim that Plato expels ‘the nautical element’ from his constitution. The passage from the Statesman, and of course, the famous analogy of the ship of fools in the Republic, criticise hypothetical sailors for failing to recognise those who have the real skill of piloting the vessel, as the philosopher has the genuine skill of steering the ship of state. But there is no implication that sailors qua sailors are low-­born

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scum. The Laws passage, however, notes the disadvantages that accrue to a state that is located on a good coast and thus engages in trade. Perhaps it is because he has this connection in mind that Hermias says ‘the seafaring element’ (to nautikon) rather than sailors. 613 Literally, ‘drinkable’, but metaphorically ‘sweet’, ‘fresh’, ‘pleasant’; similarly, almuros later in the sentence is literally ‘salty’ or ‘brackish’. 614 The meaning of ek tôn homoiôn in Plato is not entirely clear. Ryan (168), following Fraenkel, suggests that it amounts to ‘equally’, but then we would expect a verb such as eran (‘love’) rather than kharizesthai (‘grant favours to’). We lean towards ‘other things being equal’, which we take to mean that if two candidates for your favours are of equal merit in all other respects, you should prefer the one who loves you to the one who doesn’t, which is in fact fairly close to Hermias’ second explanation of the phrase. The exact thrust of his first explanation is not so clear. Perhaps ‘on the basis of the same or equal arguments’ means that if the cases for the lover and for the non-­lover are given equal time and the same criteria are applied in each case, the case for the lover will always be the stronger, and ‘for all [the bad points] for which I have abused the one party, there are contrary good points belonging to the other’ that Socrates could have applied the same criteria in the case of the non-­lover as he has in the case of the lover (although it is then awkward that Socrates is actually making a case for the preferability of a non-­lover). 615 Couvreur, comparing 84,30, amends onomata to pragmata, which would indeed be easier. 616 Presumably (1) ‘for he everywhere takes Lysias along with him’ (sunagei gar heautôi pantakhou ton Lusian) means, at least in part, that Phaedrus can sway Lysias because of Lysias’ (supposed) love for him, and (2) Phaedrus will ‘elevate’ Lysias if he is able to persuade Lysias to follow Socrates’ advice. However, there doesn’t seem to be any suggestion that Phaedrus has such power over Lysias or that he serves as an intermediary between Socrates and Lysias elsewhere and this interpretation is perhaps motivated by the desire to bring in the bit of Neoplatonic metaphysics that follows (on which see the next note). 617 For the principle that ‘the last things do not revert upon the first without some intermediary’, cf. Proclus, ET Prop. 38; for the presence of ‘the higher things’ to all things cf. ET Prop. 142. 618 Or perhaps ‘a lover of speeches’, but since Hermias appears to believe that there is also a reference to Phaedrus’ attachment to Socrates, perhaps the more general term is appropriate. 619 For anateinesthai in this sense cf. Lampe s.v. 620 cf. the note at 43,1.

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621 Presumably at 243E4 when he asks, ‘Where is the boy I was talking to?’. 622 The name of his deme (the local government area where he was enrolled as a citizen) was part of the formal style of an Athenian citizen. 623 It will be convenient to deal with the etymologising, or, etymological philosophising, that follows in a single note. For each of the proper names involved, Hermias offers (or, more often, hints at) a derivation and then explains (or leaves us to gather) the way in which this derivation (as he sees it) indicates that Socrates’ first speech deals with phenomenal beauty and his second with intelligible beauty. With some recasting and filling in of gaps, his interpretations of the names and of their significance in the present passage are these: (1) Phaedrus (Phaidros) means ‘bright’ and so alludes to phenomenal beauty and hints at the subject of the first speech. (Hermias takes advantage of the fact that the name Phaidros is identical in form with the adjective phaidros (‘bright’, ‘beaming’, ‘cheerful’).) (2) ‘Son of Pythocles’ shows that Phaedrus is a lover of sensible beauty in audible form and again hints that the subject of the speech is phenomenal beauty. (Bernard plausibly suggests that the thinking is that Pythocles (Puthoklês) derives from puth-, a root of the verb punthanomai, which can mean ‘hear’, and kleos, in the sense ‘verbal communication’ or the like and that, since Phaedrus is an aficionado of orally-­delivered rhetoric, Pythocles is a suitable name for his father – a case of nominative determinism it seems!) (3) The deme Myrrhinous (Murrhinous) is named for the myrtle (murrhinê in Attic). The myrtle is associated with the chthonic gods. The adjective ‘of Myrrhinous’ therefore alludes to the earthy and enmattered. Therefore it alludes to earthly or phenomenal beauty. Therefore the speech is about such beauty. (4) Stêsikhoros (‘Stesichorus’) derives from stê-, one root of the verb histêmi, which in this case introduces the idea of standing still, and khoros (‘chorus’) which introduces the idea of dancing, and the name as a whole alludes to the dance of lower forms of beauty around a stable and unchanging intelligible beauty. This in turn alludes to the fact that the subject of Socrates’ second speech is intelligible beauty. (As Hermias may well have known, the adjective stêsikhoros was more frequently taken to means ‘establishing or leading choruses’ and there was a story that Stesichorus was originally called Tisias but was renamed after he introduced the chorus, a band of dancers and singers, for performances of his compositions.) (5) Euphêmos means ‘worthy of reverence’ (axios euphêmias), which is a feature of intelligible beauty and thus contains an allusion to it and hints at the subject of the speech. (Hermias takes advantage of the fact that the proper name takes the same form as the adjective euphêmos (‘uttering sounds of good omen’, ‘abstaining from inauspicious words’ – i.e. ‘religiously silent’ – ‘auspicious’) and glosses it with the phrase ‘worthy of euphêmia’, which is probably best rendered ‘worthy of

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reverence’, ‘worthy of worship’ here.) (6) Himeraios means ‘loveable’, which is also a feature of intelligible beauty and so alludes to it and hints at the subject of the speech. (Hermias has treated the adjective, which is formed from Himera, the name of the Sicilian city, and means ‘of Himera’, ‘Himeraean’, as though it were formed from the noun himeros (‘longing’, ‘desire’, ‘love’).) 624 The myrtle’s connection with the gods of the underworld is in fact rather tenuous. It is sacred to Aphrodite and figures in some stories of the birth of Adonis (Pausanias 6.24,7). Adonis’ mother, Myrrha, was transformed into a myrtle tree (often a myrrh tree) by Aphrodite to save her from the anger of her father, whose child she was carrying. Born from the tree, Adonis was loved by both Aphrodite and Persephone. As a compromise, he – like Persephone – was to spend part of his time with Aphrodite and part with Persephone in Hades. The myrtle is presumably suited to the ‘low-­level’ (more literally, ‘round the feet’) powers of the chthonic gods because of its often low and shrubby nature, for which cf. Artemidorus, Onirocriticus 2.10,40, where it is referred to as khthamalos, or low. (There are other interpretations based on the heights of plants at 30,4 ff. and 34,14 ff.) The phrase peripezioi dunameis (‘low-­level powers’) is also used at 29,30 and 132,1 to refer to the lower-­level faculties of soul. In those passages peripezios is used to distinguish the faculties in question from the higher faculties of soul, whereas here, unless it is merely an indirect allusion to their position in the universe, it presumably serves to distinguish the powers of the chthonic gods from the more ‘high-­level’ powers of other gods – and, of course, to provide a basis of comparison with the myrtle. 625 The connective is actually the omnipresent gar (‘for’), but there is no obvious rendering of that that brings out the connection with what precedes. 626 At 98,9 ff. 627 Although the Muses inspire many other activities (as they in fact do at 259C6 ff.), only poetic inspiration is in question here and ‘poetical’ (for which cf. LSJ s.v. II.1) would be a reasonable rendering for mousikos. However (1) Plato actually speaks of mania apo Mousôn rather than mousikê mania (at 245A1, and cf. 265B4) and (2) Hermias (perhaps encouraged by Phaedrus 265B4) uses mousikos and poiêtikos (which is best translated ‘poetical’) interchangeably and at 92,17 actually glosses poiêtikos by mousikos, which means that the two terms need to be distinguished there, so we have decided to settle for the rather clumsy ‘Muse-­ engendered’. 628 Here at 244D5 ff. this kind of madness seems to be a variety of prophetic or mantic madness (cf. the comments of Hackforth, 59–60) and, although it is said to have led to the institution of certain ‘purifications and rites’ (katharmoi and teletai), it is only at 265B4 that it is described as ‘telestic’ and associated with

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Dionysus and so the mysteries (for the Neoplatonists the strongest association was with theurgy, with which it is often synonymous). Tanaseanu-Döbler (2013, 197) distinguishes three kinds of telestic activity in Proclus – purification and initiation; animating statues; consecrating sacred spaces such as oracular sanctuaries or cities – and the picture is much the same in Hermias (for purification, see 79,1, 91,3 ff., and 96,9 ff.; for the animation of statues, 91,3 ff.; and for the consecration of oracular sanctuaries, 92,16–17). (We use ‘mantic’ and ‘telestic’ rather than, say, ‘prophetic’ and ‘mystical’ to translate mantikos and telestikos because the terms seem to suit the rather formal classification that Hermias imposes on Plato’s remarks and because their being able to function as nouns as well as adjectives is at times convenient.) 629 sc. Aristotle and his followers; cf. Aristotle, DA 3.4. 630 On the one of the soul cf. the note at 43,1. 631 See the note at 55,29 for alogia in this sense. 632 Perhaps something like ‘skills’ would be better for epistêmas here. 633 Or perhaps ‘crafts’, as in what follows. 634 Homer, Odyssey 11.613. The reference is to the golden baldric Heracles is wearing when Odysseus sees him in the underworld. The thought there is perhaps that the sight of the baldric is so terrible that one can only hope that its fabricator won’t produce anything similar. This is how Fagles 1996 takes the line in his translation: ‘A terror too, that sword belt . . . May the craftsman who forged that masterpiece – whose skills could conjure up a belt like that – never forge another!’ But perhaps the idea here is (as Bernard’s translation seems to suggest) that the inspired works of artists like Phidias are once-­off creations that cannot be repeated. This is the sense given to the line by Samuel Butler in his 1900 translation: ‘The man who made that belt, do what he might, would never be able to make another like it.’ 635 Elsewhere we translate mainesthai ‘to be mad’. 636 Homer, Iliad 15.605. 637 Or perhaps ‘recovered’. 638 Taking pollakis (‘often’) with what follows with Bernard rather than with what precedes with Lucarini and Moreschini. 639 ‘Science’ doesn’t work very well for epistêmê here, but nor does ‘knowledge’, or any other obvious alternative. 640 Or perhaps something like ‘favourably blended vapours’, but exhalations are mentioned in the next breath. 641 The later Neoplatonists normally worked with a scheme of six causes, all of which they, anachronistically, claimed were present in Plato. These were the four Aristotelian causes of Physics 2.3 (final, efficient, material, formal), the

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paradigmatic cause (in origin, the Platonic Forms) and the instrumental cause. Of these the paradigmatic, the efficient, and the final are often (at 112,3–7 below for example) described as true causes, or causes in the strict sense, and the other three as contributory or cooperative causes (sunaitia). (Of the six causes, all apart from the instrumental appear in Hermias, the paradigmatic at 112,4.) More detail, including passages, in Sorabji 2004, vol. 2, 138–41 and Hankinson 1998, 435, and (for the earlier history) the material referenced under ‘Cause – paradigmatic’, ‘Cause – instrumental’, ‘Cause – genuine’, etc., in Hankinson’s index. 642 Accoutrements such as garments could act as sumbola facilitating contact with the gods in theurgic rites (cf. Tanaseanu-Döbler 2013, 256) and Hermias may have such things in mind here. The sumbola placed on statues at 91,5–6 might also qualify, although robes, etc. would make better sense of exôthen (‘external’). 643 A key tenet of Neoplatonic theodicy; see, for example, Plotinus, Enneads 4.3.16. 644 Perhaps Saturn (Kronos in Greek) is mentioned because it was the outermost planet known to the ancients. 645 cf. Plato, Timaeus 42D2–5: ‘. . . he sowed some of them in the earth, some in the moon, and some in each of the other instruments of time’. 646 It seems then that while telestic cannot alter the dispensations of Providence, it can speed things up! 647 This is odd, since till now only human souls have been in question. 648 For what follows compare, with Lucarini and Moreschini, Proclus, in Tim. 1,273,10 ff. and also the remarks of Tanaseanu-Döbler 2013, 256–7 on animated statues in Proclus. Discussing the present passage, Tanaseanu-Döbler (2013, 260) points out that statues are not commonly said to be ‘inspired’ and it may be that Hermias writes this way to justify what is after all something of a digression in a discussion of divine inspiration. 649 sc. with divine illumination. In Christian authors the verb is used in relation to grace or divine truth (Lampe s.v. 2.b–c). 650 Although the animation of statues was a feature of theurgy and they are mentioned a number of times in Proclus, this is the most detailed account of the practice that we have. In particular, its descriptions of a two-­step process and of the respective roles of statue and ‘recipient’ are unique (cf. Tanaseanu-Döbler 2013, 260–1). 651 Hermias’ comment at 105,12–14 suggests that he has in mind 245B1–2, but see the note there. 652 LSJ only cite Hesychius for the word and gloss it ‘purification by Corybantic rites’. 653 Lucarini and Moreschini cite Crito 54D; Ion 533E–534A, 536C; Laws 815C; Symposium 215E. 654 On this notion of a ‘series’, see the note at 28,2.

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655 cf. Proclus, in Tim. 3,282,14–20 where Hermias’ classmate also endorses the view that the natural order of psychic ascent or decline in the Republic is not inevitable. 656 It seems clear that something has gone wrong at 92,14–15 and we have accepted Bernard’s mantikês for mousikês in line 14 (which has the approval of Lucarini) and Lucarini’s own suggestion of hê mantikê for mantikên in line 15, which together make good sense of an otherwise difficult passage. 657 Laws 682A3–5, with a number of changes, the most significant being the substitution of khrêsmôidoun (‘speaking prophetically’) for humnôidoun (‘hymning’, ‘singing songs of praise’, ‘singing’). The syntax of the first part of the sentence is hard to fathom and some editors of Plato delete the word entheastikon (‘inspired’) as a gloss on theion, which would give, ‘for the tribe of poets, being a sacred one, when speaking . . .’. 658 Here in particular ‘poetic’ would work best for mousikos, making possible something like, ‘have practised the poetic and erotic [arts]’. 659 Calliope was one of the Muses, her special sphere being epic poetry. 660 Or perhaps ‘and initiating him’. (For the verb in this sense see Lampe, s.v. 7.) 92,27–93,4 = Orph. test. 560 Bernabé and 1.171 Kern; 93,2–4 = Musaeus test. 22 Bernabé. 661 The Muse-­engendered is here associated with Apollo as a harmonising principle. The characteristic effect of the telestic relies on the semantic connection to teleion as ‘complete’ or ‘whole’. 662 cf. Timaeus 43B ff. 663 Plato himself offers several different explanations of the name at Cratylus 404E–406A. 664 ‘Dionysiac’ and ‘Apollonian’ above and the mention of three donor gods below show that erôtikos is to be understood here as an adjective formed from the name of the god Eros. 665 Presumably the reference is to 92,12–93,8, where it is said that the four types of madness are interconnected and mutually dependent. 666 For this tri-­partition of the ways in which a thing may be a whole see Proclus, ET 67 and Baltzly 2008 for discussion. 667 The widespread idea that man is a microcosm is first attested for Democritus among Greek thinkers (DK 2, Democritus, fr. 34,6) and appears in a number of the Neoplatonists. 668 Presumably this means in the soul of the universe; cf. hê holê psukhê tou pantos kosmou at 215,21. 669 cf. Iamblichus, Theol. arith. 78,17–79,3. 670 David, in Isag. 54,18–23 and Proclus, in Remp. 2,53,7 and in Tim. 2,215,19–20 show that, pace Lucarini and Moreschini, Bernard is right to suggest that enneon

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at 95,9 should be construed as hen neon. (There are also relevant passages in the Etymologicum Gudianum and in the scholia on Hesiod’s Works and Days.) David’s explanation for the ‘etymology’ (there are others) is as follows: ‘“Nine” is derived (legesthai) from “one” and “new” because when it is multiplied it produces “one new” number [each time] in descending order from nine to one: i.e. two nines are eighteen, three nines are twenty-­seven, four nines are thirty-­six, and so on. Observe [here] how the nine when multiplied has one unit removed [from the last digit in the previous product] with each step’. Hermias’ own explanation seems to be that nine is a second ‘one’ in that it too (though obviously in a different manner) ‘embraces all the numbers’. 671 For what follows cf. Iamblichus, Theol. Arith. 30,5–15. 672 sc. 10 is produced by the addition of 1, 2, 3, and 4, and in the sequence 1, 2, 3, 4 each succeeding number is produced by the addition of one to the previous one. 673 Because users of the decimal system count up to ten and then, in a sense, start again. 674 Orph. fr. 133 Bernabé = 2.76 Kern (pars altera). 675 Not, it seems, elsewhere in extant literature. Presumably it was because ten is constituted of the four numbers that make up the tetrad that it was so designated. 676 cf. 94,8 ff. 677 Retaining genikôtatôn, the reading of the manuscripts, at 95,28, in preference to Ast’s genikôtatên, which is adopted by Couvreur and by Lucarini and Moreschini, and (rather desperately) assuming ellipsis of hodon after tên at 96,1. 678 The context in this first part of the sentence seems to be wider than just music and poetry and emmetrôs could be translated ‘in a balanced manner’ and euruthmôs ‘gracefully’. 679 Like Bernard, translating apodiôkousa at 96,12, which Lucarini and Moreschini obelise. 680 Hermias has given examples of other types of madness and explained why Plato only discusses the four he does at 91,22–31. 681 epibolas is difficult. Bernard has ‘Apprehensionen’, but neither that nor any of the other senses listed in LSJ or Lampe seems to work very well. The basic meanings of the word are ‘a putting forward’ or ‘a projection’ and perhaps one can at a pinch get ‘manifestation’ out of that. The argument will then be that although there are other kinds of (divine?) madness, they all fall under the same four basic types, with different slants according to the god who inspires them. 682 Tanaseanu-Döbler (2013, 264) argues that ‘Whereas Proclus brought theurgy and telestics so close together as to make them overlap and almost coincide, Hermias sticks to one strand of literary tradition which features Plato and Orphism and does not exhibit any interest in the “barbarian” theology and theurgy of the Oracles’. There is certainly some truth in this, since although Hermias cites the

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Oracles three times, he nowhere uses the term ‘theurgy’ or related terms. However we do know that, as Tanaseanu-Döbler mentions herself (2013, 217; 244), Syrianus had a particular interest in demonstrating the harmony of all theological traditions, including the Chaldaean, and here at least it is difficult not to see a reference to theurgy. Perhaps the avoidance of Chaldaean terminology stemmed from a desire to avoid obvious anachronism, though that would be unusual in a Neoplatonist. 683 This is reasonable. Although Plato introduces (244A3–245C1) Muse-­engendered, telestic, and mantic madness to prepare the way for the introduction of erotic madness and they do not appear to be introduced in any significant order or play any role in the ascent of the soul, Hermias assigns all four kinds of inspired madness (maniai) such a role and assumes that the order in which Plato introduces them reflects, in ascending order, the order in which they contribute to the soul’s ascent and the relative importance of their respective contributions. This is made clear before Hermias introduces (at 93,9 ff.) the distinction between the effects of the maniai on the soul, or their internal operations, and their effects in society and on the outer aspects of our lives, or their external operations, and it at first seems to apply to the maniai tout court, but once he introduces that distinction it becomes clear (see especially 93,18–94,13) that it is by their internal operations that they assist in the ascent of the soul and that their external operations have little if any role to play in it. This being so, even though Hermias goes on to describe the latter in the order in which he described the former, there is no obvious reason, as far as the interpretation of the Phaedrus is concerned, for Syrianus to rank them in that order now. 684 At first sight this looks like a follow-­up question from Proclus, but in that case we would expect men rather than prôton men in the previous sentence, since prôton men would be either unanswered or only weakly answered by all’ oukhi kai (‘but not . . . as well’). We might also have expected another phêsi (‘he asks’), as in the first question (for phêsi when quoting, ‘especially of an opponent’s objection’, see LSJ s.v. II,1), but that wouldn’t be mandatory. The alternative is that it is a rhetorical question posed by Syrianus himself in anticipation of a possible objection to what he has just said. In that case prôton men would still not be formally answered, but there would at least be a second part to Proclus’ answer. (It would be as though he had begun his answer with a phrase such as, ‘Let me begin by saying’.) On the whole, we lean towards the second alternative, but fortunately the translation does not demand a definite decision. 685 At 182,11–14 we are told that the other three kinds of divine madness cannot exist without erotic madness and that this may be why it is called divine; cf. too the similar thought at 213,23–4.

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686 When the four types of madness were being considered as stages in the soul’s ascent to the contemplation of intelligible beauty with erotic madness as the final stage they were said to be interconnected and mutually dependent. 687 Sheppard (1982) finds evidence for a third level of theurgy, a higher internal theurgy, in this last answer of Syrianus’ (96,1–97,12). As she says (p. 216), Syrianus’ answer is not easy to follow, but it seems to us that he is merely defending the position that telestic is superior to the other maniai in ‘external’ operations though not in ‘internal’ ones against a possible objection. The weakness in Syrianus’ argument, and what makes it look like a case of special pleading designed to protect the exalted position the Neoplatonists gave to theurgy while preserving the special role assigned to erotic madness in the interpretation of the Phaedrus, is that the telestic, or theurgy, that competed with philosophy as a vehicle for the soul’s ascent in the eyes of the Neoplatonists had more in common with ‘internal’ telestic that ‘external’ (or, better, embraced features of each), and external telestic as it has just been described (96,9–13) doesn’t seem up to the job on its own. 688 theôrêma is difficult. ‘Theories’, ‘techniques’, ‘procedures’, ‘ideas’, ‘rules’ all seem possible, but none of these works very well either here or in lines 26, where the sciences are in question. 689 As Lucarini and Moreschini remark, Ast’s puktikêi (‘boxing’) for praktikêi (‘practical action’) is tempting. 690 Or perhaps ‘for all purposes’, or, as Bernard has it, ‘all in all’. 691 cf. Proclus, in Tim. 2,145,18–146,22 = Orph. fr. 210 Kern. 692 At 88,15 ff. 693 The neuter plural pronoun auta (‘they’) has nothing to refer to and both Couvreur and Lucarini and Moreschini assume a lacuna, Couvreur suggesting that something like kai duoin manteiôn mnêmoneuei tou te en Delphois kai tou Dôdônaiou (‘and he mentions two oracles, the one at Delphi and the Dodonian one’) may have dropped out and we have translated on that basis. Bernard, on the other hand, suggests that ‘oracles’ (manteia), is to be understood from ‘mantic’ (mantikou) in the previous line as the reference of auta, which seems to be asking rather too much of the reader. 694 The internal activity or energeia of the forms of madness has been considered in the previous scholium. 695 cf. Herodotus 2,54–7 and Phaedrus 275B5–6, where Plato himself says that the first prophecies at Dodona were given by an oak tree. For brief information on Dodona and Delphi see the articles ‘Dodona’ and ‘Delphic Oracle’ in the OCD.

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696 Hermias proceeds to discuss connections between Dodona and Delphi on the grounds that Socrates has mentioned the one right after the other at 244A8 and B1. 697 For the verb in this sense, cf. 91,12 above. 698 The name ‘Sibyl’ seems to have originally been a proper name (cf. Heraclitus 22 B92 DK and Aristophanes, Peace 1095 and 1116) that evolved into a generic term for female prophets whose unsolicited prophecies were frequently ones of doom. See Parke 2013. 699 See also 176,14 below. On Hermes Trismegistus and the Hermetic corpus generally, see Fowden 1993. Fowden is among the few authors on the Hermetic tradition to touch on this passage in Hermias. 700 Orph. test. 869 Bernabé = 1.6 Kern. 701 The adjective manikos can mean ‘mad’ or ‘causing madness’ and so hê manikê tekhnê would literally be ‘the mad art’ or, perhaps better, ‘the art that involves madness’. 702 ‘Opposite’ in that its practitioners are sane rather than ‘mad’ or divinely inspired. 703 The Greek dictionaries don’t suggest ‘divinatory’ for stokhastikos, but the New Shorter Oxford English Dictionary defines it as ‘pertaining to a diviner or to divination, prophetic; conjectural’, which would seem to fit the present context. 704 There is an anacoluthon here. The clause begins with an accusative singular phrase (sc. the quotation from 244C5–6) and, after the long parenthesis, we expect the sentence to continue with a construction appropriate to that, but instead the verb here implies a nominative plural subject, as though the various forms of divination mentioned in the parenthesis were the subject. (We considered splitting the sentence up in various ways, but decided that the argument is best served by maintaining the structure of the Greek.) 705 Bernard and Lucarini and Moreschini compare Aristotle, Metaph. 981a2 ff. 706 Or perhaps ‘written Experiences’, if we can take Peirai as a book-­title, but Lucarini and Moreschini describe tas peiras as ‘suspect’. 707 The verb normally involves the idea of stretching rather than compressing, but that doesn’t work here. 708 sc. changing the omicron to an omega, or a short ‘o’ to a long. 709 In this case oionoistikê is Plato’s fabrication while oiônistikê is augury from the flight or cries of birds, oiônos being a large bird and thence a bird of omen. (In the case of oiônistikê, transliteration, of course, works better than translation here.) 710 For geometric justice, a kind of distributive justice whereby people are rewarded in proportion to their deserts or merits, see Aristotle, EN 5.3. The contention seems to be that by stating (as Hermias puts it) that divine madness (or god-­

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given mantic) is as much superior to human sanity (or human mantic) as its name and the results it achieves are to those of human mantic Plato is in some sense applying the principles of geometric justice. 711 sc. as we saw at 96,9 ff. 712 On this question cf. Proclus, De dec. dub. 58,1 ff. 713 What follows seems to be a new argument and we have punctuated with a full stop rather than a comma. 714 The phrase as a whole suggests the Stoic term spermatikoi logoi, which also occurs a number of times in Proclus. 715 Hist. 1.13, where the Lydian is identified as Gyges. 716 As the first two senses of mênima, LSJ gives ‘cause of wrath’ and ‘guilt, especially blood-­guiltiness’, both of which seem relevant here, and goes on to explain the present phrase specifically as, ‘guilt that cleaves to a family from the sins of their forefathers’. 717 The dictionaries don’t list ‘apologise’ as a possible rendering of apologeisthai, but it is hard to believe that this is not at least part of the meaning here and at 102,14. 718 Because the land is now in the hands of those who would have inherited it anyway. 719 Accepting Couvreur’s suggestion of temnontos for temontos. 720 cf. Apollonius Rhodius 468–89, where the story is told of a certain Paraebius and his father, the father cutting down the tree and the son building the altar to avoid the inherited consequences. 721 Alcmaeon, who, in Greek myth, kills his mother Eriphyle for her betrayal of his father Amphiaraus, one of the Seven Against Thebes. 722 It seems that ex enantias and exô atês are both offered as ‘etymologies’ of exantês. (Perhaps prompted by this passage, Burnet, the editor of the OCT text of the Phaedrus, brackets heautês at 244E3 as a probable corruption of exô atês, itself a gloss on exantês.) Lucarini and Moreschini cite Tim. Soph. 173 (Bonelli), Suda E 1546, Et. Mag. 346,44, and Zenobius 3.95,1–3 as providing parallels to Hermias’ comments. 723 Republic 398A–B; 595–608. 724 Emending tekhnikên to tekhnês; cf. 104,2 and 8 below. 725 Lucarini and Moreschini compare Proclus, in Remp. 2,246,24 and 1,181,2–17. 726 As Bernard points out, the words translated ‘the kind that involves being possessed by a god’ (tôi theôi kataskhetheisa) are difficult and the text may be corrupt. Perhaps Hermias wrote kataskhesis rather than kataskhetheisa which would give ‘and possession (katokôkhê) is possession (kataskhesis) by a god’, the point in that case perhaps being to explain a relatively rare word.

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727 The order of the types of divine madness, moving from lowest to highest, was of course Muse-­engendered, telestic, mantic, erotic. 728 Half quotation, half interpretative paraphrase. 729 Iliad 2.484, Iliad 1.1 and Odyssey 1.1 respectively. 730 For anateinesthai in this sense, see Lampe s.v. 731 Or perhaps ‘as though filled’, although there seems to be no implication that they are not in fact inspired. 732 ‘From the Muses themselves’ (ap’ autôn tôn Mousôn) looks rather like a gloss on ‘from that source’ (ekeithen). 733 For the verb in this kind of sense, cf. the passages at LSJ s.v. II.c. 734 In fact Plato’s words at 245B7–C4 and at 249D4–5 show that he regards the proof of the immortality of the soul and the myth that follows as part of the proof that love is a gift of the gods and not merely as preliminary to it. 735 Socrates actually says that he could mention other accomplishments of divinely-­ inspired madness. It seems unlikely that Hermias could have misunderstood the text as we have it, so one assumes that either he believed that his own statement is somehow implied by what Plato says or that his text of the Phaedrus was corrupt at this point, perhaps having eidê for erga at 245B2. 736 Or perhaps ‘for the Eristics’. 737 Perhaps ‘Arguments’ (which lêmmata could just about stretch to) would work better here and in line 28, but 109,29 ff. shows that Hermias is using the word in the obvious sense. 738 This presumably refers to the end of the proof of the immortality of the soul, where Plato concludes that it is necessarily (ex anankês) ungenerated and indestructible. 739 sc. of their pre-­natal experiences. 740 As 105,33–106,5 will confirm, the part of the argument that compels universal assent will be the dialectical proof of the immortality of the soul (245C5–246A1), the part that will only convince the wise, the mythical material that follows, probably (cf. 105,4–11) as far as 249D3. 741 The arguments ‘that concern the gods’ are those of the myth as opposed to those of the dialectical proof. However, the sentence is awkward and Couvreur may be right to think it defective. 742 cf. ‘by in a sense (pôs) employing the analytic method’ at 107,7 at the end of the paragraph (as we punctuate) and the similar statement at 181,25, where the ‘analysis’ that follows here is recapitulated. 743 Couvreur sees a reference to the Theaetetus (which Hermias cites just below at 106,32), Bernard, perhaps more plausibly, as Lucarini and Moreschini remark, to Phaedrus 265–6, although there is no reference to the present passage there and

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the collection and division described there neither coincide with the ‘analysis’ described here nor, except in a very loose sense (see Hackforth, 133, n. 1), with anything in Socrates’ speeches. 744 Plato, Theaetetus 176B1. 745 This looks back to 106,28–9. 746 Punctuating with a question mark rather that a semicolon after apodeixeôs at 107,21 and assuming that gar in the next sentence marks a positive answer to the question. 747 This is expanded at 108,14–20. 748 This seemingly simple and unambiguous claim opens a difficult question for a Platonist such as Hermias. What does one say about the irrational soul? Is it immortal? This passage from the Phaedrus, considered in isolation, would seem to support an affirmative answer. But a good Platonist must also take account of Timaeus 41C–D where the Demiurge tells the younger gods to ‘weave the mortal onto the immortal’ in a context where it seems at least possible that the younger gods are being delegated the task of constructing the irrational soul. Proclus’ Timaeus commentary surveys the range of opinions (3,234,8 ff.). These range from those who think that only the rational soul is immortal, while the irrational soul and its pneumatic vehicle are entirely perishable (Atticus, Albinus), through those who think that the irrational soul and the soul’s pneumatic vehicle are not destroyed but rather lose their individuality and are assimilated back into the cosmos’ stock of ingredients (Porphyry), to those who suppose that both the irrational soul and the soul’s vehicle are imperishable (Iamblichus and his school). Syrianus adopted a compromise solution in which only the highest stages of the irrational parts of the soul were immortal and indestructible. Hermias’ reading of this passage can be seen to render it safe for Syrianus’ view on this question by claiming that the context of the discussion here in the Phaedrus shows that the phrase ‘all soul’ is implicitly restricted. It means simply all rational soul. 749 Posidonius fr. 393 Theiler = fr. 290 Edelstein and Kidd. Lucarini and Moreschini also compare Porphyry fr. 450 Smith. 750 Harpocration, Commentary on Plato fr. 10 Dillon; Harpocration fr.15 Gioè. 751 sc. construes psukhê pasa as ‘every soul’. 752 The phrases ‘irrational soul’ and ‘irrational life’ are both reasonably common in the commentators and Hermias uses both a number of times himself. ‘A mortal form of soul’ is found in Plato himself at Timaeus 69C7 ff. and used by Hermias at 125,14. For ‘trace of life’ (but not ‘second’), cf. Proclus, de sacr. et mag.149,19; Damascius, in Parm. 150,7–9; 155,3–5. Hermias himself uses ‘animations’ to describe the life of lower life-­forms (119,4–5 and probably 107,24 and 123,9), but

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we have been unable to find an instance of ‘animation of the pneuma’, which sounds Stoic. Proclus quite frequently (PT 1,116,25–6; in Crat. 102,6–7; in Tim. 2,143,12–13, etc.) talks of ‘life in the region of bodies’ but doesn’t specifically use it as a synonym for irrational soul. 753 Or, to follow Lucarini and Moreschini’s punctuation, ‘he calls the human being in the true sense the rational soul’. Either way, we would probably say something like, ‘he says that properly speaking the human being is the rational soul’. Couvreur believes the sentence has suffered corruption, presumably, since the doctrine is, as Bernard points out, orthodox Platonism, on the ground that it does not fit the context. As Pépin (1971, 114, n.3; cited by Segonds 1985, xxxvii, n.1) suggests, the reference may well be to the Alcibiades, since although Plato there identifies the human being with the soul tout court, Damascius, Olympiodorus, and Proclus (according to Damascius and Olympiodorus; the relevant part of Proclus’ own commentary has not survived and the matter is in fact rather complex – see Segonds 1985, lv–lxi), all identified the self at some level with the rational soul in their commentaries, and so Syrianus may well have too. 754 For ‘the because’ and ‘the that’ (sometimes paraphrased as the ‘the fact’ and the ‘reason why’), see Aristotle, An. Post. 89b23 ff. 755 Hermias obviously returned to this point in the lacuna at 113,12 but little more than the final clause of his remarks there has survived. 756 Republic 608E3 ff. 757 On the second alternative Plato’s proof imitates the interpenetration or mutual inclusion of the intelligibles in one another where ‘all are in all’. While each has the look of an (incomplete) part, the penetrating eye sees the whole in each (Plotinus, Enneads 5.8.4.21–4). Compare Proclus, ET Prop. 176. 758 Couvreur actually supplies the words ho de deuteros toioutos while Lucarini and Moreschini indicate a lacuna. 759 Not that Aristotle has disputed the existence of the soul, but rather that he has argued that it is not only mistaken to think that its essence is to be a self-­moving principle of motion, but that motion does not belong to it per se (DA 405b31– 406a2). 760 On this passage see Menn 2012. 761 896E8–897A3. 762 Hermias thus answers the first challenge to the agreement of Plato and Aristotle. When Aristotle draws out absurdities from each of the possibilities that he enumerates for the soul’s motion (locomotion, alteration, diminution, and growth, DA 406a12 ff.) Plato would surely agree. On the basis of the Laws passage Hermias thinks it is obvious that Plato never supposed that the soul was moved in any of those ways. In fact, Hermias will ignore this Platonic list of psychic

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motions in what follows (112,13–113,8) and supply a list of his own psychic motions that will serve as the paradigmatic causes of the ten kinds of corporeal changes enumerated by Plato at Laws 893C–894E. 763 We have opted for the coinage ‘other-­moved’ (for which compare ‘other-­directed’) to translate heterokinêtos to avoid cumbersome circumlocutions like ‘that which is moved by another thing’. 764 ienai is Couvreur’s emendation, justified by the occurrence of ienai in line 20. The manuscript reading einai (‘be’) would in itself make as good, if not better, sense. 765 Aristotle’s criticism of the soul as self-­moving principle of motion at DA 405b31–406a2 itself refers to the broader issue of whether the principle of motion must be itself something in motion or something unmoved. The bulk of the argument in DA, however, is consumed with objections centred on the idea that the soul itself moves. But the scepticism about whether a self-­moving origin is in fact necessary (even if these objections could be overcome) takes us to Physics 257a31–258b9. Hermias now seeks to disarm this objection to Plato by showing that Aristotle in fact agrees that the first principle of motion is a self-­moving soul. 766 For obvious reasons no editor or translator is willing to speculate on any specific passage that Hermias might have in mind. Such a universal principle of plenitude seems broadly consistent with some inferences that Aristotle draws in specific cases, but it is hardly explicit in any of Aristotle’s works. Indeed, Lovejoy (1936, 55) supposed that he explicitly rejected it. 767 Standard Neoplatonic doctrine; cf., for example, Proclus, De Prov. 20,15–17: ‘For the processions of beings leave no void, even less so than do the positions of bodies [in space]. On the contrary, there are intermediate natures (mesotêtes) between the extremes, which provide their connection with one another’ (tr. Steel, bracketed words our additions), and see Dodds’ note to ET Prop. 28. 768 sc. it is not internally divided into mover and moved. This supposition is, of course, exactly the one that Aristotle would not grant. Anything that undergoes motion is, on his view, necessarily extended and so divisible. It is thus impossible that anything that moves itself moves itself in its entirety (Phys. 257a33–b2). The kind of extended self-­mover that is dismissed by Hermias in the next line as irrelevant in this context is, in fact, the only kind of self-­mover that Aristotle countenances. 769 We are inclined to accept Lucarini’s suggestion of to for tou in line 5. 770 Lucarini and Moreschini compare Cael. 279a–280a and Phys. 256b, but the reference is not very specific and there are other passages that could be cited. 771 Although Lucarini and Moreschini punctuate with a full stop at this point, 111,6–20 (‘So just as there are . . . and supplies itself with it’) is one long sentence and we have followed Couvreur in punctuating with a semi-­colon.

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772 Phys. 194b13. 773 Preferring ‘connatural’ to ‘connate’ (or ‘innate’) because that life is connate seems a truism. 774 894D3–4. 775 A paraphrase of Laws 895A6–B1. 776 The sentence is not easy and we are not sure that we have it right. (Bernard takes a different view of it, but we are not convinced by her reading either.) As the text stands, Hermias first says that all things (onta) (we translate the phrase ‘everything’) are other-­moved and in the next breath refers to the self-­moved, which is awkward. One could perhaps argue that onta here means corporeal things as opposed to souls, but that seems unlikely. If the text is sound and our translation is on the right track, it seems that Hermias means ‘all other things’ and either carelessly omits some word for ‘other’ or feels that it can be supplied by the reader. For purposes of translation we have supplied ‘else’ after ‘everything’ but think it possible that Hermias actually wrote allôn rather than ontôn (which would give the same translation without the need to bracket ‘else’). 777 Or perhaps ‘having been moved’: the soul’s moving itself (for which cf. 112,20) might perhaps be expressed in either way. 778 Of course ‘generation’ and ‘destruction’ can only be used metaphorically of soul, but we have thought it as well to keep to our normal renderings. 779 It is difficult to see in what sense the forms circulate or unfold and return to the same position and it seems to us that something has gone wrong with the text. Elsewhere in Hermias it is souls that are said to go through cycles (periodos) (83,6, 99,1, 160,17, etc.) and to return to or be restored to (apokatastasis, apokathistanai) an original location or condition (91,28, 92,10, 176,25, etc.), and the next sentence (112,34–113,5) seems to indicate that Hermias has just assigned both locomotion and circular motion to the human soul and, although we translate the transmitted text, we are inclined to think that either zôôn (for which see 171,27) or biôn has dropped out after eidôn, which would give something such as ‘kinds of lives’. (These ideas, of course, go back to the Myth of Er in Plato’s Republic, and it is worth noting that, in interpreting the lots and the patterns of types of life that rest on the knees of Lachesis in the myth, Proclus uses very similar language, including anallissetai (‘unfold’) of patterns of lives at 2,267,21 and apokatastasis at 2,267,28, and uses the phrase ta eidê tôn biôn (‘the kinds of life’) at 2,267,24.) 780 Timaeus 36B8, where the Demiurge is constructing the soul of the cosmos. (Only ‘bent’ is direct quotation.) 781 The ‘ninth motion’ is mentioned again below at 119,3 in the context of a report of Iamblichus’ view on whether the irrational soul is self-­moving (= Iamblichus, in

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Phaedrum fr. 2 Dillon). Noting the similarity between this and other passages where one finds similar ‘laborious listing of qualities, epithets and equivalences’ Dillon speculates that this material may be Iamblichean in its origins. Whether it formed part of Syrianus’ teaching or whether it might have been inserted in subsequent revisions by Hermias in which he incorporated material from Iamblichus’ Commentary is unknowable. 782 Lucarini and Moreschini report (see p. ix of their preface) that the equivalent of several pages of Greek in their edition have been lost at this point. 783 cf. 108,18–20. 784 As the text stands, ‘premiss’ (for which cf. line 21) needs to be supplied and Lucarini, perhaps correctly, would add it by emendation. 785 At 114,18 ff. 786 The repetition of athanatos (‘immortal’) is unexpected. Perhaps it has replaced another word, say anôlethros (‘indestructible’), which was paired with aphthartos (‘imperishable’) at 108,30. 787 For this ‘second of the hypotheticals’, which is in fact the modus tollens, see Philoponus, in An. Pr. 244,10–13. As Bernard points out, the argument envisioned is presumably something like this: If something is other-­moved it is not in perpetual motion. That which is in perpetual motion is in perpetual motion. Therefore that which is in perpetual motion is not other-­moved, i.e. it is self-­moved. 788 The connection between ‘what is up to us’ and the following argument is not particularly clear. We think that the chain of reasoning is meant to be something like the following: It lies within our power or ‘up to us’ to morally improve ourselves. So the human soul can supply itself with what is better when it does so perfect itself. But what is able to supply its own well-­being is also able to supply what is less than this. Among the things that are less than well-­being (to eu) is the mere fact of being (to einai). So the soul is able to supply itself with being. (This, of course, is consistent with Proclus’ view that the soul is the last of the things that are self-­constituted or authupostatos since it is the last of the things that is capable of reverting upon itself; cf. ET Prop. 189.) But if it supplies itself with its own being and if its being is life and its life is motion, then soul is self-­moving. The argument thus starts from ‘what is up to us’ on the understanding that among the things that are up to us is our own well-­being (to eu). 789 Orac. Chald. fr. 174 Des Places. 790 cf. 110,31–2. 791 cf. Aristotle, Phys. 202b19–23 ff. The actuality of teaching and learning are one and the same, though they differ in account. 792 As the editors indicate, there is clearly a lacuna in the text at this point: toutesti (‘i.e.’) presumably introduced an explanation of ‘other-­moved’ (cf., for example,

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113,31–114,2) and there was presumably also a statement of the reason why the other-­moved cannot approach the mover, and perhaps also something preparing the way for the rejection of a mutual approach. 793 Lucarini and Moreschini compare Proclus, in Tim. 2,24,1–7. 794 Another manifestation of the principle of plenitude alluded to at 110,25 ff. With the present passage compare Proclus, ET Props 112 and 147. 795 It may well be that Hermias intends merely to continue the role of the imaginary objector introduced at 116,17. However the objection echoes that made by Strato of Lampsacus against Plato’s argument in the Phaedo. He too targeted the gap between showing that the soul would not admit death and showing that it is indestructible (see Strato frs 185 and 189 Desclos and Fortenbaugh). The fact that Damascius’ Phaedo commentary seems to echo objections from Proclus suggests that confronting Strato’s objections was a typical part of the procedure of the Athenian school when dealing with the topic of the soul’s immortality. If this is so, then Hermias or Syrianus may have chosen to discuss this objection in relation to the Phaedrus argument without feeling the need to introduce Strato by name. At this advanced point in the curriculum, it would have been familiar. For discussion of the tradition of addressing Strato, which he hypothesises goes back to Porphyry, see Gertz 2015. 796 Actually, ‘proviso’ would be better here. 797 Presumably the reference is to 115,2 ff. 798 Compare Proclus, ET Prop. 43, where Proclus similarly argues that everything that reverts upon itself is self-­constituted. After all, if it reverts upon itself, it perfects itself and thus gives existence to itself. 799 Substituting the present tense for the future as mooted by Couvreur in his apparatus. 800 sc. the two terms in each premiss (in this last case ‘in perpetual motion’ and ‘immortal’) are coextensive and convertible. 801 See the note at 55,29 for alogia in this sense. 802 For Platonist positions on the survival of the non-­rational parts of the soul see Sorabji 2004, vol. 1, 264–9. Proclus, following Syrianus, held that they are not immortal but do last through the entire cycle of incarnations a soul undergoes. On the face of it, the present passage is not compatible with that position. 803 Iamblichus, in Phaedrum fr. 2 Dillon and Porphyry fr. 445 Smith. 804 cf. 113,5 ff. 805 Compare Proclus’ account of Nature at in Tim. 1,10,16–11,5. On the one hand, Nature is superior to what comes after it because it possesses the logoi of enmattered natural things, produces them, and gives them life. On the other hand, unlike the soul, Nature belongs to bodies, immerses itself in them and is

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inseparable from them. For a discussion of Nature’s somewhat ambivalent status in Proclus, see Martijn 2008. 806 A rather more literal rendering would be, ‘it is in them as substrates’. 807 Perhaps at 116,27–117,15. 808 For this see 113,5 ff. and line 3 above. 809 Although we have followed the editors in punctuating with a comma at this point, one would expect a semicolon. 810 cf. the similar statement at 113,25 where he uses elakhistos. 811 245E2–6. 812 At 114,17 ff. 813 The fourth presumably at 245D3 ff. The fifth doesn’t seem to be explicitly stated. 814 1.12. 815 We have used ‘generosity’ (and ‘generous’ for ektenês) faute de mieux. The basic meaning of the word should be stretching or spreading out and for the Neoplatonists it means something like ‘overflowing’. (LSJ suggests ‘gush’, ‘empressement’ for some passages.) 816 895A6 ff.; cf. 112,8–10. 817 cf. 118,27 ff. 818 The first part of the dilemma that Hermias offers suggests that the ‘older ones’ were concerned with this particular passage in the Phaedrus. But the problem that Hermias addresses himself to perhaps reflects Theophrastus’ more general objection to Plato’s view of soul. Proclus entertains this objection in his Timaeus commentary. Theophrastus objected that the psychogony there sought a principle for a principle and a generation for what is ungenerated (in Tim. 2,120,9–10). Proclus’ response to Theophrastus clarifies the notion of ‘first principle’ and ‘generated’ that is at issue. Soul is a first principle of motion, but it is not a first principle tout court. There are higher, intellectual causes from which it proceeds. So it is in this sense also ‘generated’, but not in the way in which sensibles are generated. Hermias argues similarly that, although soul gets its being and intellect from being and nous, it is the first principle of motion and the self-­moved source of all motion – or at least all motion of the sort that occurs in time. 819 Although we have been translating arkhê ‘principle’, it’s basic meaning is ‘beginning’, ‘origin’, ‘source’. 820 i.e. the form of equals, or ideal equality, and similarly for ‘man-­himself ’. 821 This finite use of metaballein is rather awkward, but Hermias will hardly be saying that the soul undergoes qualitative change, etc., which would be the case if the verb were intransitive. Although we have done our best with the text, we are inclined to think that metaballein should be deleted or emended to metabolên.

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Notes to pages 169–171

822 arkhê (‘principle’) can mean ‘power’, ‘sovereignty’, ‘office’ or even ‘magistrate’ in some contexts. 823 sc. by anything other than itself. A more literal translation of allakhothen would be ‘from another source’. 824 Presumably to our advantage. But theôria (‘contemplation’) could also be translated ‘consideration’ or even ‘exposition’ and the phrase amounts to ‘giving us more work to do’. 825 sc. is its own principle or source (arkhê). 826 Couvreur describes this last clause (‘becoming (ginomenos) a thing that has being, say, or an intellect or a particular god from the principle of all things’) as ‘mutilum vel corruptum’. Bernard defends it, but Lucarini and Moreschini point out that the masculine participle ginomenos at least is anomalous since we would expect a feminine form – and, one might add, ‘goddess’ rather than ‘god’. (Also, in view of 121,4–6 and perhaps121,35 ff., one would expect the right or justice itself to become an on or an intellect through the agency of being and Intellect rather than through the direct agency of the One.) All in all, we are inclined to think that the passage is either, as Couvreur thought, corrupt or that it is a marginal comment that has found its way into the text penned by someone who thought that ‘from elsewhere’ in line seven (or perhaps better, in view of the masculine participle, the same word in line four) needed explanation. 827 Close paraphrase rather than quotation. 828 Lucarini and Moreschini compare Cael. 282a, Bernard, more specifically, 282a31, but the proof that Hermias goes on to attribute to Aristotle doesn’t appear there or, it seems, anywhere else in his extant works. 829 Following Bernard in translating lêsetai, the reading of A and nearly all later manuscripts, which seems to us to yield satisfactory sense, and which is in fact used again by Hermias at 236,15; lêxetai, which was apparently independently conjectured by Ficino and Couvreur and is printed by Lucarini and Moreschini, has the disadvantages that the future middle of lêgein (which we take lêxetai to be) does not seem to be in use and that ‘either all things will cease, having become perishable’ is rather awkward anyway. 830 Following Bernard in supplying the conjunction – which according to Couvreur’s report is, for what it is worth, actually present in M.49,1

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English–Greek Glossary affinity: koinônia afflicted, be: paskhein agents of love: ta erônta agreeable, be: sunarmozein aide-­mémoire: hupomnêsis ailment: nosos, pathos air: aêr all-­complete: panteleios allotment: klêros allude to: mnêmoneuein allurement of the soul: psukhagôgia ambiguous: amphibolos analogous: analogon analogous, be: analogein analogy: analogia analyse: analuein analysis: analusis, analutikê analytical: kat’ analusin ancient: palaios angel: angelos angelic: angelikos anger: thumos animal: zôion animate (adj.): empsukhos animate (v.): empsukhoun, psukhoun, zôopoiein animation: empsukhia apologise: apologeisthai apparent: phainomenos apparition: eidôlon, opsis, phantasia, phantasma, phasma appear: phainesthai appearance: dokêsis

appearance, outward appearance: to phainomenon appearing: phainomenos appetition, have: orektikôs ekhein appetitive power: orektikê appetitive side: epithumêtikon apprehension: epibolê approach: paraballein approval: epainos aptitude: epitêdeiotês aptitude, have an: epitêdeiôs ekhein archetypal: paradeigmatikos argument: epikheirêma, logos, sullogismos arrange: kosmein arrangement: diathesis, suntaxis, sunthesis art: tekhnê, tekhnikê art of love: erôtikê article (grammar): arthron ascend: anatrekhein, anerkhesthai, anienai, epanienai ascent: anadromê, anagôgê, anaphora, anodos ashamed, be or feel: aiskhunesthai assistant: hupourgos association: sunousia asymmetry: asummetria, asummetron atonement: aphosiôsis attach: sunaptein augury: oiônistikê author: poiêtês authoritative: endoxos available: prokheiros awaken: anegeirein, diegeirein, egeirein

266

English–Greek Glossary

awakened: diegêgermenos aware of, be: sunaisthanesthai aware, be: aisthanesthai awareness: sunaisthêsis Bacchic revel: bakkheia Bacchic revelry, join in: sumbakkheuein bad: kakos, phaulos base: aiskhros basely: aiskhrôs beautiful: kalos beautiful, from ignorance of the: apeirokalôs beautiful-­itself, the: autokalon, auto to kalon beautify: kallunein beauty: kallonê, kallos, to kalon beauty of language: kalliepeia beauty-­itself: autokallos begin: arkhein beginning: arkhê being: to einai, on, ousia believe: doxazein, hêgeisthai beloved: erômenos, philos beneficial: ôphelimos beneficial, be: sumpherein beneficial, the: to sumpheron benefit (n.): euergesia, ôpheleia, agathon benefit (v.): euergetein, ophelein bestow: endidonai bestower: khorêgos bewitch: katapharmakeuein bewitchment: kêlêsis beyond the heavens: huperouranios bind: desmein, katekhein, sunaptein birth: genetê blind (adj.): tuphlos blind (v.): tuphloun blindness: tuphlôsis, tuphlotês

bodily: sômatikos body: sôma bond: desmos boniform: agathoeidês brain: enkephalos bright: phaidros, phôteinos bring a charge against: katêgorein bring to perfection: telesiourgein bring together: sunairein bringing together: sunagôgos, sunarmostikos call: epagein capability: dunamis capacity: dunamis captious: eristikos care for: epimeleisthai, phrontizein, pronoein careful: eulabês carry: agein carry along: sunagein carry back: anagein carry down: hupopherein carry up: anapherein carrying up: anaphora cathartic: kathartikos cause (n.): aitia, aition cause to exist: huphistanai cause, be the: aitios caused: aitiatos caution: eulabeia cease to be: apogignesthai celebrate: anumnein, humnein celestial: ouranios change (n.): kinêsis, metabolê change (v.): metaballein change of quality: alloiôsis charge: aitiasthai charm: hêdonê chaste: sôphrôn, sôphronikos

English–Greek Glossary chastely: sôphronôs cheerfulness: to euphrosunon choice: hairesis, proairesis choice-­worthy: hairetos choose: eklegein, haireisthai, proairein chosen: exêirêmenos circle: kuklos circular: kuklikos circular motion: periphora circulation: periodos citizen body: politeia civic affairs: politika civic matters: politeia cleansing: katharsis clever: sophos closely connected: prosekhês co-­exist with: suneinai coetensive, be: exisazein cognitive: gnôstikos colourless: akhrômatos combination: sunamphoteron, sunkrisis, sunthesis comedy: kômôidia comic dramatist: kômikos coming to be: genesis commencement: arkhê commendation: enkômion, epainos common: koinos commonality: koinônia communion: koinônia companion: hetairos company: homilia, sunousia comparison: sunkrisis complete (adj.): teleios, teleos complete (v.): teleioun completeness: to teleion, to teleon composer: poiêtês composite: sunthetos compound: sunthetos

267

concealed: kekrummenos concept: ennoia, logos conception: ennoia conclusion: sumperasma, telos condition: diathesis, hexis, katastasis, pathos condition, be in a: diakeisthai conduct (n.): praxis conduct (v.): paragein conduct up: anagein configuration: skhêma confirmation: pistis confusion: tarakhê conjecture: eikotologia, stokhasmos, sumballein connatural: sumphuês connect: sunaptein connection: sunaphê constitution: krasis contact (n.): epaphê, koinônia contact (v.): ephaptein contain: periekhein contemplate: theasthai, theôrein contemplation: thea, theôria contemplative: theôrêtikos contemplatively: theôrêtikôs contingent: endekhomenos continuity: sunekheia, to sunekhes continuous: sunekhês contradiction: enantiologia, enantiôma contributory: sunaitios conversion: antistrophê convert: metapherein, periagein convertible, be: antistrephein cooperate: sumpnein cooperation: sumpnoia corporeal: sômatikos correct: orthos correct opinions, holding: orthodoxastikos

268

English–Greek Glossary

corruptible: phthartos corruption: paraphthora Corybantic frenzy: korubantismos cosmos: kosmos craft: tekhnê creation: dêmiourgia creator of the story: muthoplastês creature: zôion criticism: diabolê, elenkhos cult: therapeia cure (n.): therapeia cure (v.): iasthai, therapeuein cycle: periodos daemon: daimôn, to daimonion daemonic: daimoniôdês, daimonios daemonically: daimoniôs dear: philos death: thanatos deceive: apatan deception: apatê, prospoiêsis deceptive: apatêlos decide: proairein decision: krisis, proairesis decline (v.): hupopherein, paraiteisthai decorous: kosmios deficiency: endeia define: horizein defining: horistikos definition: horismos, horistikê deformity: aiskhos degree: bathmos deity: theos delight: euphrosunê Demiurge: dêmiourgos demiurgic work: dêmiourgia democratic: dêmokratikos demonstrate: apodeiknunai, deiknunai, epideiknunai

demonstration: apodeixis demonstrative: apodeiktikos demonstrative argument: apodeixis, sullogismos density: pakhutês derivation: anaptuxis descendant: apogonos, ekgonos descent: kathodos desire (n.): ephesis, epithumia, orexis desire (v.): ephienai, epithumein, oregein desiring part: epithumêtikon destination: telos destroy: anairein, apolluein, phtheiresthai destruction: phthora deter: apotrepein deterrence: apotropê dialectic: dialektikê dialectical: logikos dialectical, dialectician: dialektikos dialogue: dialogos, logos diction: lexis die: teleutan differ: diistanai difference: diaphora differentia: diaphora difficulty: aporia, pragma diminution: meiôsis, phthisis discord: stasis discordant: plêmmelês discordantly: plêmmelôs discourse (n.): diatribê, logos discursive: diêirêmenos, dianoêtikos, logikos discursive argument: logismos discursive nature: diexodos discursive thought: dianoia discursively: diexodikôs discussion: logos, zêtêsis disease: nosos

English–Greek Glossary disease, suffer from: nosein disgrace (n.): aiskhunê disgraceful: aiskhros disorder (n.): anarmostia, tarakhê disorder (v.): tarattein disorderliness: ataxia disorderly (adj.): duskatastatos, ataktos disorderly fashion, in (adv.): ataktôs dispensation: dianomê display: epideiknunai disposition: diathesis, hexis dissolute: akolastos distasteful: aêdês distinction: diakrisis distinction, make a: diastellein distinguish: diakrinein, exetazein distributed, be: diistanai dithyramb: dithurambos dithyrambic: dithurambikos, dithurambôdês diversity: diaphora divide: diairein, merizein, summerizein divided: diairetos, meristos dividedly: memerismenôs divination by means of birds of prey: oiônoskopia divination through omens: sumbolikê divinatory: stokhastikos divinatory human art: oionoïstikê divine (adj.): theios, tôn theôn divine (v.): stokhazesthai divine myth: theomuthia divinely: theiôs divinely inspired: theios divinity, the divine: to theion division: diairesis division, method/process of division: diairetikê doctor: iatros

doctrine: dogma dominate: epikratein, kratein, turanneuein drag down: kathelkein dragging down: katagôgos dream (n.): phantasma drive (n.): hormê eager for, be: epithumein eager, be: horman, spoudazein eagerly: suntetamenôs eagerness: hormê, prothumia earnest, be in: spoudazein earth: gê earthly: geôdês earthy: gêïnos, geôdês ecstasy: ekstasis educate: paideuein education: paideusis educative: paideutikos effect (n.): apotelesma, energeia effect, producing: pathêtikôs effective: drastikos efficient: poiêtikos elaborate: poikilos elderly: presbuteros element: stoikheion elevate: anagein, egeirein, epanagein, sunagein elevated: hupsêlos, semnos elevating: anagôgos elevation: anagôgê elevator: anagôgeus eloquence: to rhêtorikon emanate: proerkhesthai emanation: aporroia emotion: pathos empty: koilos enchant: thelgein

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English–Greek Glossary

enchanter: pharmakeus enchantment: epôidê encomium: enkômion encosmic: enkosmios engage with: energein enigmatically impart: ainittesthai enmattered: enulos ensouled: empsukhos equal-­itself, the: autoïson equip: paraskeuazein eristically: eristikôs erotic: erôtikos erotically: erôtikôs err: hamartanein, sphallein erroneous: esphalmenos error: apatê, hamartêma, hamartia essence, essential feature: ousia essentially: kat’ ousian establish: apodeiknunai, enidruein, hidruein, kataskeuazein eternal: aïdios eternity: aiôn ethereal: aitherios ethical: êthikos ethics: êthikê everlasting: aïdios everlastingly: aïdiôs evident, be: phainesthai evil (adj.): kakos evil (n.): kakia, to kakon evil way of life: kakozôïa evil-­doer: kakergetis ex hypothesi: hupokeisthai, kath’ hupothesin exalted: hupsêlos, semnos examination: exetasis excel: huperekhein exemplar: endeigma exercise providential care: pronoein

exhalation: anathumiasis, aêr exhort: protrepein exhortative: protreptikos exist: huphistanai, sunistanai existence: to einai existing thing: on expiation: katharsion explain: exêgeisthai explanation: aitia, anaptuxis explicate: anelittein extension: diastasis external: ektos externally-­moved: heterokinêtos fact: pragma faction: stasis faculty: dunamis, hexis fall: ptôsis fall away: apopiptein fallen: apopeptôkôs falling away: apoptôsis false: pseudês, pseudos falsehood: pseudos familiar terms with, be on: oikeioun family: genos fictitious: plasmatôdês figure: skhêma fill: anaplêroun, emphorein, plêroun filling up: anaplêrôsis final: eskhatos, teleutaios, telikos first: proêgoumenôs, prôtos fit for, be: epitêdeiôs ekhein fit to: epharmozein fitness: epitêdeiotês fitted: epitêdeios fittingly: prosphorôs flesh: sarx flow (n.): rhusis, to sunekhes flow (v.): rhein

English–Greek Glossary fluency: euroia fluidity: to hugron force: bia forgetfulness, forgetting: lêthê form (n.): eidos, idea form (v.): eidopoiein formal: eidikos formal cause: to eidikon formative: eidopoios formlessness: askhêmosunê fortunate: eutukhês four-­faced: tetraprosôpos fragmented: merikos friend: philos friendship: philia friendship, of: philios fulfil: plêroun fulfilment: apoplêrôsis fundamental: arkhoeidês game: paidia gaze (v.): theôrein gaze on: theasthai generate: apogennan, gennan generated: genêtos generation: genesis generative: genesiourgos, gennêtikos generic: genikos genus: genos genus, the highest: to genikôtaton geometric: geômetrikos gift: dosis go (forth): proïenai goal: telos god: theos god-­like manner, in a: theoeidôs goddess: thea, theos godless: atheos godlessness: to atheon

271

good: spoudaios, agathos good cheer: euphrosunê good fortune: eutukhia Good, the: to agathon govern: eparkhein, kratein, kubernan gratification: to kharizesthai gratify: kharizein gratify, should: kharisteon great-­souled: megalopsukhos growth: auxêsis guardian: ephoros, epikourikos, kêdemôn guide (n.): hêgemôn guide (v.): anagein, kateuthunein, hêgeisthai guide of fate: moirêgetês happiness: eudaimonia happy, be: eudaimonein harm: blabê harmful: blaberos harmonious: enarmonios harmonious, be: homonoein harmonisation: sunarmonia harmony: harmonia heal: iasthai healer: iatrikos, therapeutikos healing (n.): iasis health: hugeia, hugieia healthy, remain: hugiainein hearing: akoê heaven: ouranos heavenly: ouranios heavens: ta ourania here below: enthade, têide hero: hêrôs heroic: hêrôïkos heroine: hêrôinê, hêrôissa hidden: kruphios, kruptos high: hupsêlos

272

English–Greek Glossary

high regions: hupsêla high-­flown utterance: semnologia history: historia hollow: koilos holy: semnos homeland: patris horizon: horizôn human: anthrôpeios, anthrôpikos, anthrôpinos human, human being, humanity: anthrôpos hymn (n.): humnos hymn (v.): humnein, anumnein hypothesis: hupothesis hypothetical: hupothetikos idea: dianoêma, noêma, theôrêma ignorance: agnôsia, apeiria, agnoia ignorance of the beautiful: apeirokalia ignorant of: apeiros ignorant, be: agnoein illness: nosos illogical: asullogistos illuminate: ellampein, katalampein, lamprunein, phôtizein illumination: ellampsis image: eikôn, indalma, agalma image (in a mirror): emphasis image, as an: eidôlikôs imaged: eikonikos imagination: phantasia immaterial: aülos immobile: akinêtos immortal: athanatos immortality: athanasia impede: empodizein impediment: empodion, episkhesis imperfection: to ateles imperishability: aphtharsia

imperishable: aphthartos impious: asebês impossible: adunatos impulse: hormê inanimate: apsukhos inborn: emphutos incapacity: adunamia incomplete: atelês incontinence: akrateia incorporeal: asômatos incredible: paradoxos indestructible: anôlethros indeterminacy: aoristia indicate: deiknunai, endeiknunai, sêmainein indicative: endeiktikos, sêmantikos individual: atomos, merikos induction: epagôgê inferior: hupheimenos, katadeesteros, kheirôn infinite: apeiros initiate: telein initiation: teletê injustice: adikia injustice, do: adikein innate: emphutos inquire: zêtein inquiry: zêtêsis inquisitive: zêtêtikos insolent: hubristos inspiration: enthousiasmos, epipnoia inspire: empnein, epipnein, katekhein, kinein inspired: entheastikos, enthousiastikos inspired, divinely-­inspired: entheos inspired manner, in an: enthousiastikôs inspired, be: enthousiazein, enthousian inspired, being: katokôkhê instrument: organon

English–Greek Glossary instrumental: organikos insult: hubrizein intangible: anaphês intellect: nous intellection: to noein, to noeron, noêsis intellective: noeros intellectual: noêtikos, noêtos intelligence: nous intelligent: noeros intelligently: emphronôs intelligible: noêtos intelligible, the: to noêton intelligise: noein intense, intensified: suntonos intensity: suntonia intention: dianoia intercourse: sunousia interlocutor: prosdialegomenos intermediacy: mesotês intermediary: to meson intermediate: mesos intermediate position: mesotês interpret: anaptussein, exêgeisthai interpretation: anaptuxis, epibolê, exêgêsis introduce: pareisagein, sunistanai introduction: proimion intuition: epibolê invisible: aoratos, aphanês, asaphês involved in the mysteries: mantikos irony: eirôneia irradiation: ellampsis irrational: alogistos, alogos irrational part: alogia irrationality: alogia irregular: plêmmelôs judge (n.): dikastês judge (v.): krinein judgement: apophasis, doxa, krisis

273

judging faculty: to doxastikon juror: dikastês just: dikaios justice: dikaiosunê, dikê justice-­itself: autodikaion, autodikaiosunê kind (n.): eidos, genos kindness: prothumia kindred: sungenês king: basileus knack: tribê knowledge: eidêsis, epistêmê, gnôsis knowledgeable: epistêmôn Kore, son of: korikos last: eskhatos, teleutaios layman: idiôtês lead: anagein, epagein, sunagein, agein lead back: epanagein lead to: prosagein lead up: anagein, anapempein, epanagein, sunanagein leader: hêgemôn leisure: skholê leisured: skholastikos letter (of alphabet): stoikheion level: sustoikhia level, on the same: suntetagmenos, sustoikhos licentious: akolastos, ephubristos licentiously: akolastôs licentiousness: akolasia life: bios, to zên, zôê life-­creating: zôopoios life-­style: zôê lifespan: bios light (n.): to phanon, phôs light (v.): ephaptein light-­itself: autophôs

274 like, become: homoioun like, becoming: homoiôsis liken: paraballein likeness: eikôn, homoiotês limit: metron limitless: aoristos live (v.): bioun, zên lively: empsukhos living thing: zôion local motion: phora locomotion: phora lofty: hupsêlos logical: logikos Lord: despotês loss: sterêsis lot: klêros love (n.): erôs, ta erôtika, philia love (v.): philein love ­affair: erôs love affair, have a: eran love mutually: anteran love, be in: erasthai, eran loveable: eperastos lover: erôn, erastês, erôtikos lover, be a: eran lower: hupheimenos lowest: eskhatos, teleutaios luminous: augoeidês lunar: selêniakos lust: hubris lustful: en hubrei, hubristês mad, be: mainesthai madness: mania man-­himself: autoanthrôpos man: anthrôpos manic: manikos mantic (adj.): mantikos mantic (n.): manteia, mantikê

English–Greek Glossary marvel at: thaumazein material (adj.): enulos, hulikos material (n.): hulê material aspect: to hulikon mathematics: mathêmatikê matter (n.): hulê, pragma mean (n.): to meson, mesotês mean (v.): endeiknunai, sêmainein meaning: dianoia, to nooumenon, to sêmainomenon measure: metron measured: emmetros medicine: iatrikê, pharmakon metaphor: metaphora method: methodos midwifery: maieutikê mind (n.): nous, psukhê mind, be in a normal state of: sôphronein mind, be in one’s right: sôphronein mindless: anous mistake, make a: hamartanein Mistress: despotis moderate: sôphrôn moderation-­itself: autosôphrosunê moist [element]: to hugron monad: monas moon: selênê moral (of a story): epimuthion moral philosophy: êthikê philosophia mortal: anthrôpos, thnêtos motion: kinêma, kinêsis motion, in: kinoumenon mould (v.): diaplattein mount above: huperbainein move: kinein moved (n.): to kinoumenon moved, be: kineisthai movement: to kineisthai, kinêsis mover: to kinoun

English–Greek Glossary moving: kinêtikos moving (in motion): kinoumenos multitude: plêthos Muse-­engendered: mousikos musical: mousikos musical interval: harmonia musical mode: eidos musical third: epitritos musician: mousikos mysteries, involved in: telestikos myth: muthos myth-­maker: muthoplastês mythology: muthologia name (n.): onoma name (v.): onomazein name-­giver: onomatothetês natural: phusikos natural phenomenon: phusis natural union: sumphuïa nature: phusis, eidos necessary: anankaios necessity: anankaion, anankê negation: antithesis, apophasis non-­being: to mê on number: arithmos numerically: kat’ arithmon Nymph-­possessed: numpholêptos oath: horkos object of love: erômenos, eraston objection: anthupophora objective: skopos octave: dia pasôn older, older man: presbuteros one with, be: henoun operate: energein opining: doxastikos opinion: doxa

opinionative: doxastikos oppose: antikeisthai, antidiairein opposite: enantios opposite, be: antikeisthai opposition: enantiôsis oppositional: enantiôtikos oracle: logion, manteion oracular shrine: manteion orator: rhêtôr oratory: rhêtoreia order (n.): taxis order (v.): katastellein, teinein order well: kosmein ordering: diakosmêsis, katakosmêsis, kosmêtikos origin: arkhê original, originally: ex arkhês originate: arkhein other-­moved: heterokinêtos otherness: heterotês palinode: palinôidia paradigmatic: paradeigmatikos paradoxical: paradoxos part: meros, morion part, as a: merikôs partake, participate: metalambanein, metekhein particular: merikos particular character: idiôma partlessness: amereia pass away: apogignesthai passing away: phthora passion: erôs, pathos passionless: apathês passive: pathêtikos passively: pathêtikôs peace: erêmia people: dêmos

275

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English–Greek Glossary

per se properties: kath’ hauta huparkhonta perceive: aisthanesthai perceptible: aisthêtos perception: aisthêsis perceptual: aisthêtikos, aisthêtos perfect (adj.): holoklêros, teleios, teleos perfect (v.): teleioun perfected: teleios perfection: teleiotês, to teleon perform / declaim a speech: epideiknunai logon period: khronos, periodos perishable: phthartos perpetual motion: to aeikinêton perplexity: aporia persuasive: pistos phenomenal, the: to phainomenon philosopher, philosophical: philosophos philosophy: philosophia phrase: lexis, onoma physical: phusikos physician: iatros piece: meros piety: hosiotês pilot: kubernêtês pleasure: hêdonê plurality: plêthos pneuma: pneuma poem: poiêma poet: poiêtês poetic: poiêtikos poetic art: poiêtikê poetry: poiêsis, poiêtikê point: sêmeion political: politikos polluted: molusmatôdês pollution: molusmos potential: dunamei power: dunamis

practical wisdom: phronêsis practice: epitêdeuma, theôrêma practise: epitêdeuein practise midwifery: maieuesthai practitioner of telestic: telestês praise (n.): epainos praise (v.): anumnein, enkômiazein, epainein pray: eukhesthai prayer: eukhê predicate (v.): katêgorein premiss: lêmma, protasis preserve: sôizein, sunekhein preserving: sôstikos priest: hiereus, telestês priestess: hiereia primary: proêgoumenos, prôtos principle: arkhê, logos privation: sterêsis probability: eikotologia proceed: proerkhesthai, proïenai procession: proodos procreative: gonimos produce (v.): apotelein, empoiein, paragein, proballein product: apotelesma productive: gonimos, poiêtikos project (v.): proballein projection: probolê proof: apodeixis, tekmêrion propensity: epitêdeiotês prophecy: mantikê prophesy: prophêteuein prophet: mantis, prophêtês prophetess: prophêtis prophetic power: to mantikon prostitution: hetairêsis prove: apodeiknunai, deiknunai, kataskeuazein

English–Greek Glossary providence: moira, pronoia providential: pronoêtikos proximate: prosekhês proximity, be in: plêsiazein prudent, be: sôphronein psychic: psukhikos pure: katharos, abatos purely: katharôs purge: apokathairein purger: kathartikos purification: katharmos, katharsis purificatory, purifying: kathartikos purificatory rite: katharsion purify: diakathairein, ekkathairein, kathairein puzzle (v.): aporein puzzlement: aporia quantity: plêthos question (n.): to zêtoumenon, problêma quiet: hêsukhia race: genos range: platos rank: taxis rank, of the same: homostoikhos rational: logikos rational judgement: krisis logou rational principle: logos re-­ascent: anaphora real: ontôs reality: on really real: ontôs ôn reason (n.): aitia, aition, logismos, logos reasonable, be: logon ekhein reasoning: logismos, logos rebirth: palingenesia recapitulation: epanodos recollect: anamimnêiskesthai

recollection: anamnêsis reductio ad absurdum: apagôgê eis adunaton reflection: emphasis, indalma refutation: elenkhos refute: elenkhein regular metre, in: emmetros remember: anamimnêiskesthai, apomnêmoneuein remind: anamimnêiskein, hupomimnêiskein reminding: anamnêsis responsible for: aitios return (v.): anastrephein, anatrekhein, anerkhesthai, epanatrekhein, epanienai, epistrephein, hupostrephein return (n.) [position]: apokatastasis revolution: periphora revolve: periienai rhetoric, rhetorical project: rhêtorikê rhetorical: rhêtorikos rhetorician: rhêtôr rite: telestikê, teletê root: arkhê, rhiza rule (n.): kanôn rule (v.): arkhein, eparkhein sacred: hieros sacred, be: anakeisthai sacrifice: hierourgia, thuein sacrificial rite: hieron salvation: sôtêria sameness: tautotês sanctuary: hieron sane: emphrôn sane, be: sôphronein sanity: to sôphronein, sôphrosunê save: sôizein

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English–Greek Glossary

saving: sôstikos saviour: sôtêr school (n.): diatribê school (v.): paideuein science: epistêmê, sophia science, without any: anepistêmôn scientific: epistêmonikos, phusikos secret (adj.): kekrummenos, kruptos see: horan, theasthai, theôrein seed: sperma seek: zêtein seem: dokein, phainesthai seer: mantis seer, of a: mantikos select: eklegein self-­control: enkrateia, sôphrosunê self-­controlled: sôphrôn self-­evidence: enargeia self-­motion: autokinêsia, to autokinêton self-­moved (adj.): autokinêtos self-­moved (n.): to autokinêton self-­sufficiency: autarkeia, to autarkes self-­sufficient: autarkês self-­vivifying: autozôos sense (v.): aisthanesthai sense perception: aisthêsis sense-­based: aisthêtikos sense-­organ: aisthêtêrion sensible: aisthêtos, emphrôn sensible realm: aisthêsis sensory: aisthêtos series: seira sexual intercourse: sunousia shameful: aiskhros shamefully: aiskhrôs shameless: anaidês shamelessness: anaideia shapeless: askhêmatistos share (v.): koinônein, metadidonai

share in: metekhein sickness: nosos sight: opsis, thea sign (n.): sêmeion, sumbolon signify: sêmainein simple: haplous simplicity: haplotês sin (n.): hamartêma sin (v.): hamartanein sinful: hamartôlos skill: tekhnê skill-­based: tekhnikos skilled worker: tekhnitês solar: hêliakos sophist: sophistês sorcerer: pharmakeus soul: psukhê soul, of the: psukhikos soulless: apsukhos source: arkhê, genesis, pêgê species: eidos speech: logos, phônê sphere: sphaira spiral: helikoeidês spirited part: thumos spontaneously: autophuôs star: astron start (n.), starting-­point: arkhê start (v.): arkhein state: hexis, pathos, politeia statue: eikôn, agalma sterile: agonos style: kharaktêr, lexis, zêlos substance: ousia substantial: ousiôdês substrate: hupokeimenon suitability: epitêdeiotês suitable: epitêdeios, prosphuês summit: akrotês

English–Greek Glossary sun: hêlios superlunary: huper selênên supernaturally: huperphuôs supramundane: huperkosmios syllogism: sullogismos syllogistically: sullogistikôs symbol: kharaktêr, sumbolon sympathy: sumpatheia tangible: antitupos teach: didaskein, paradidonai teacher: didaskalos teaching: didaskalia telestic (adj.): telestikos telestic (n.): telestikê temperance: sôphrosunê temperate: sôphrôn temporally: kata khronon tetrad: tetras theme: hupothesis theologian: theologos theological: theologikos theology: theologia theorem: theôrêma time: khronos token: sumbolon trace: ikhnos transcendent: exêirêmenos transcendently: exêirêmenôs transmigration: metensômatôsis true: alêthês, ontôs truly: alêthôs, ontôs truth: alêtheia, to alêthes turn back: apotrepein, epistrephein, hupostrephein turn towards: epitrepein turning: epistreptikos type: eidos, tupos tyrannical: turannikos

tyranny: turannis tyrant: turannos unbounded: apeiros unclean: akathartos unclear: asaphês undivided: amerês unfaithful: apistos unfamiliar with: apeiros unfit: anepitêdeios unfolding: anelixis ungenerated: agenêtos unharmed: ablabês unified: heniaios unified manner, in a: hênômenôs unified, be: henoun uniform: monoeidês unify: henizein, sunarmozein uninitiated: atelês union: henôsis unitarily: heniaiôs unite: henoun unity: heniaion, henôsis unity, as a: hênômenôs unity, in: heniaiôs universal: katholou universe: to pan unjust: adikos unknowable: agnôstos unknown: agnôstos unlikeness: anomoiotês unlimited, the: apeiria unmediated: amesos unmoved, unmoving: akinêtos unnatural: para phusin uplifiting: anagôgos vehicle: okhêma venerate: sebein, therapeuein

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English–Greek Glossary

verse: metron violence: bia virtue: aretê visible: emphanês, phainomenos, theatos vision: opsis, thea vital: zôtikos voice: phônê void: kenôma voluntary: proairetikos vortex: dinê wanton: hubristês watching-­place: periôpê water: hudation, hudôr way of life: bios, epitêdeuma wet: hugros whole (adj.): holoklêros, pas whole (n.): to holon wholeness: holotês

wind: pneuma wing: pteron winged: pterôs wings, give: pteroun wings, loss of: pterorruêsis wings, shed: pterorruein wings, sprout: pterophuein wisdom: sophia wise: epistêmôn, sophos wish, wishing: boulêsis word: lexis, logos, onoma wording: lexis writer: poiêtês writer of comedies: kômôidiopoios writer of dialogues: dialogikos young man: ephêbos zealously pursue: spoudazein

Greek–English Index abatos, pure, 103,9 ablabês, unharmed, 81,18; 96,11 adikein, do an injustice, 118,16; wrong, 102,6; 118,13.15 adikêma, wrong, 102,5–7.12 adikia, injustice, 62,20; wrongful means, 101,11 adikos, unjust, 63,16; 84,22 adunamia, incapacity, 44,20 adunatos, impossible, 117,4; 122,18; 123,6; not possible, 100,13; eis adunaton apagôgê, reductio at absurdum, 108,23; 122,21 aêdês, devoid of pleasure, 4,9; distasteful, 60,4.15.17.20.22; 62,4; 63,12; odious, 50,29; 54,7; unpleasant, 62,11 aêdizein, feel disgust, 62,11 aeikinêtos, in perpetual motion, 109,24; 113,17.24.28.30; 114,1.3.6–7.9– 10.12.14.17; 115,17–18.20.25.29; 116,20.29; 117,16; 118,4.13.17; to aeikinêton, perpetual motion, 109,5 aêr, air, 31,3; 34,13; 72,18; 73,13.18; exhalation, 32,18.28; 90,8 agalma, image, 74,21; statue, 40,15–16; 48,17; 91,3.6.8–9.15; 97,22; 104,24 agalmatopoiia, the sculptor’s craft, 89,25 agathoeidês, boniform, 89,4; 97,33; 120, 15; agathoeidesteros, of a better kind, 74,11 agathos, good, 3,18; 10,25; 17,8, etc.; to agathon, good point, 4,18.21–2; 44,23; 45,29; 67,13.22; blessing, 8,9; 93,4; the Good, 9,28; 12,5; 43,19–20; 45,29; 77,9; 90,14; 96,2; the good, 16,12; 50,12; 56,7; 60,7–9.14.21.23–4; 62,17; 79,31; 90,15–16; 95,12; 118,7; benefit, 5,9.18; 79,24; 98,29; good thing, 60,25; 62,26; 89,3; 98,12 agein, carry, 80,8; herd, 71,7; lead, 4,6; 31,17; prompt, 57,10

agenêtos, ungenerated, 109,27; 111,10–11; 120,2.6.25.27.29.33; 121,7.9.16.20–1.29; 122,19.30; 123,2.4–6.9 agnoein, be ignorant, 7,2; 28,22; lack knowledge, 27,16; not know, 27,8.13; 28,7.9–11.15; 49,20.22; fail to recognise, 27,14; 100,3 agnoia, ignorance, 61,11; not knowing, 28,7.12 agnôsia, ignorance, 8,17 agnôstos, unknowable, 14,4; unknown, 11,18 agonos, sterile, 3,10; (obelised at 2,15) aidein, sing, 5,5; 80,24 aidios, eternal, 45,17.19; everlasting, 116,6.9; ex aidiou, from eternity, 45,10.26; 54,20; 78,13 aidiôs, everlastingly, 65,5 ainittesthai, enigmatically impart, 69,3; intimate, 18,19; 46,6; say in an enigmatic fashion, 47,7 aiôn, eternity, 118,27 aiskhos, deformity, 50,28; 61,7–10.12 aiskhros, base, 23,17; 51,2; disgraceful, 54,7; shameful, 6,14; 40,9.11–12; 76,10; warped, 60,4.14.16.19.22.32; 61,1; to aiskhron, warpedness, 60,17 aiskhrôs, in a base manner, 11,3; in a shameful fashion, 1,14 aiskhunê, disgrace, 37,2 aiskhunesthai, be ashamed, 51,21; feel shame, 76,23; respect, 84,6 aisthanesthai, be aware, 79,13; 81,6–7; 83,26; perceive, 5,7; 73,26; 74,1; realise, 5,3; 65,18.22.25; 66,6; 79,10; 81,13.17; sense, 72,25; 73,1 aisthêsis, perception, 44,2; 59,4; 73,14; sense, 15,11; 34,17; 72,20.27; 73,8.23; 74,2; sense perception, 15,6; 21,6.22.25– 6.28.31; 27,3; 45,20; 67,18; 73,2; sensible realm, 14,9.15; 29,13

282

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aisthêtêrion, sense-­organ, 72,27 aisthêtikos, perceptual, 73,8; percipient, 73,5; sense-­based, 15,12 aisthêtos, perceptible, 21,24; 22,4.6; 30,11; 32,13; 34,23; 68,23; 81,33; perceptual, 46,24; sensible, 14,16; 27,13.23.27; 29,15; 33,5; 42,6; 43,3.5.28; 44,5.21; 47,14; 48,23–5; 62,29; 73,21; 81,9–10.14.20; 82,3.7.9; 83,15.17.27; 84,14; 87,9; 94,25; 96,22; sensory, 81,32 aitein, ask for, 37,17 aitherios, ethereal, 117,10 aitia, cause, 8,12; 18,15.17.20; 32,18.21; 35,3; 55,33; 67,19; 69,23; 71,18; 88,7–8.10; 90,12; 104,29; 109,12.15; 111,10–11; 112,3–7.18; 113,7.9; 121,26.28.31; 122,1; explanation, 52,14; 58,13; reason, 23,12; 83,21; 90,17; 99,5; aphanês ai., unseen cause, 71,18; hulikê ai., material cause, 32,18; 90,12; paradeigmatikê ai., paradigmatic cause, 112,4.22, 113,7.9; poiêtikê ai., efficient cause, 90,11; 112,3.7; phusikê ai., physical cause, 32,21; prôtê ai., first cause, 121,30; telikê ai., final cause, 90,14; 112,5; 113,10 aitiasthai, censure, 38,5; charge, 2,8; credit, 68,18; find fault with, 14,2; 38,4 aitiatos, caused, 110,20 aitios, be the cause, 52,5.11; 98,6.30; responsible for, 5,9; 59,18; 106,31; to aition, cause, 43,5; 44,16; 60,29; 88,32; 90,11; 108,34; 110,19; 111,12.20; 112,16; 121,8.10.25; means, 109,10; reason, 54,18; 91,12; to exêirêmenon ai., transcendent cause, 70,23; to hulikon ai., material cause, 90,10; 112,6; to huperkeimenon ai., higher cause, 44,12; to huperteron ai., higher cause, 30,24; to kinêtikon ai., cause of motion, 112,11; 114,15; 116,11–12.15; to kinoumenon ai., moving cause, 116,15; to poiêtikon ai., efficient cause, 17,2; to sunaition ai., contributory cause, 90,10; to telikon ai., final cause, 18,17 akathartos, unclean, 78,34 akhrômatos, colourless, 10,1; 12,7; 44,7; 117,4 akhronôs, non-­temporally, 50,7

akinêtos, immobile, 112,15; unmoved, 110,23.30.33; 111,1.21.27; 120,22; unmoving, 116,16 akoê, hearing, 23,22; 24,5; 73,4; 86,13; listening, 23,19 akolasia, licentiousness, 53,14; 56,11.29; 62,20; 84,24 akolastos, licentious, 12,2.20.26; 13,7; 19,23; 20,1; 42,17; 46,18; 48,7; 51,18; 53,27–8.30–2; 54,7.28; 56,29; 57,21; 61,13; 63,18; 65,16; 67,2.9.11.20; 68,9; 74,19; 76,18; 77,3; 78,20.35; 79,29; 84,22 akolastôs, licentiously, 84,26; 105,16 akolouthein, follow, 35,7; 41,6; 69,1; 97,11 akolouthêteon, to be practised, 12,3 akolouthos, making sense, 20,16 akrateia, incontinence, 56,14 akros, consummate, 66,30; extreme, 30,5; highest, 29,5; 43,1; 46,7.16.21.28; 64,15; 78,29; 88,10.25.27 akrotês, summit, 117,7 alampês, obscure, 50,28 alêtheia, truth, 6,28.30; 7,3–4; 10,20; 53,17; 77,13; 83,19; 84,2; 92,21; 106,28; 109,29; kat’ alêtheian, with justice, 76,4 alêthês, genuine, 34,12; in accord with the truth, 110,2; true, 1,10; 5,10; 7,4.14, etc.; to alêthes, the truth, 67,17.25; 79,8; 98,15; 106,12.26 alêtheuein, be correct, 21,18; 53,6; give a true account, 87,9; state the truth, 70,19 alêthinos, genuine, 12,19; 68,26; 81,10; 104,28 alêthôs, in the true sense, 89,33; in truth, 53,1; rightly, 75,23; truly, 3,3; 43,10; 89,14; hôs alêthôs, genuine, 7,25 alloiôsis, change of quality, 121,4 alogia, irrationality, 55,29; 56,8.10.14.18; 61,10; 93,27; the irrational part, 66,18; 89,18; 118,25 alogistos, irrational, 6,15 alogos, irrational, 23,24.28; 57,1; 71,7; 79,2–3; 82,23; 108,9–10; 111,21–2; 119,34; non-­rational, 55,30; 63,11; 71,34; 76,27; 119,30 alusitelês, unprofitable, 60,22 amereia, partlessness, 68,22 amerês, undivided, 68,25; without parts, 116,30

Greek–English Index amerôs, without division, 50,8 amesôs, immediately, 110,26; without some intermediary, 85,3 amesos, unmediated, 22,19 amphibolos, ambiguous, 3,17 anadiplôsis, recurrence, 119,28 anadromê, ascent, 78,3 anagein, bear aloft, 84,15; carry back, 16,32; conduct up, 106,3; elevate, 22,14; 50,6; 51,6; 52,4; 54,5.29; 70,3; 83,10; 106,25; 107,3; 115,11; guide, 34,26; lead, 13,26; 106,14–15.19; lead up, 13,20; 77,7; 83,5; 85,2; 95,12; 96,2.19; 105,5; lift up, 57,23; raise, 83,30; refer to, 43,11 anagôgê, ascent, 45,29; 106,13; elevation, 29,25.28; 34,26; 52,4; 66,20; 68,20; 71,31 anagôgeus, elevator, 9,5; 10,25 anagôgos, elevating, 30,10; 31,11; 46,17.22.27; 51,25; 58,27; 67,6; 68,3.11; 76,12; 77,4.12; 83,18.31; 85,20; 107,6; that which elevates, 23,23; 53,29; uplifiting, 18,29; 23,11 anaideia, shamelessness, 84,5 anaidês, shameless, 76,24; 84,5 anairein, abrogate, 102,17; confute, 110,2; deny, 26,10.12; 28,10; destroy, 110,19; nullify, 30,28 anaitios, without a cause, 18,15.19 anakeisthai, be sacred, 28,1 anakhôrein, withdraw, 27,4; 80,15; retire, 66,32; 67,3 anakteon, must be applied, 23,10 analiskein, pay, 75,2.4 analogein, be analogous, 78,3 analogia, analogy, 47,17; 96,34; 97,1.8; analogian ekhein, be analogous, 93,13 analogon, as analogous, 84,10; 95,11.23; 97,10; corresponding, 13,10; similar, 34,1 analuein, analyse, 32,19; 107,9; undo, 102,6 analusis, analysis, 30,14; 106,29; kat’ analusin, analytical, 107,7 analutikê, analysis, 95,25 anamimnêiskein, remind, 107,11; anamimnêiskesthai, recollect, 27,13; 81,15; 99,7; 106,34; 107,4.12; remember, 67,31 anamnêsis, recollection, 5,26–7; 67,14.28; 81,19; 99,9; reminding, 105,31

283

anamphibolôs, without a shadow of doubt, 28,17 anamphisbêtêtos, incontrovertible, 105,33 anankaios, cogent, 2,12; 39,9; essential, 7,20; 17,22; necessary, 10,26, etc.; to anankaion, necessity, 18,12 anankê, necessity (divine or material), 63,8 anapempein, direct up, 27,12; 77,9; 85,27; 86,23; 107,10; lead up, 96,23; refer, 34,7; send up, 48,29; 81,16; 95,26 anapherein, carry up, 31,29; convey, 8,22; direct, 12,13; specify, 45,24 anaphês, intangible, 10,1; 44,7 anaphora, ascent, 13,13; carrying up, 31,30; re-­ascent, 65,8 anapimplanai, afflict, 93,31; infect, 93,27; 103,10 anaplêrôsis, filling up, 31,15 anaplêroun, fill, 117,9 anaploun, develop, 108,19 anapodismos, regression, 16,32 anaptussein, expand, 108,18;113,16; interpret, 16,4; 32,19.21.26; 33,2 anaptuxis, derivation, 31,6; explanation, 30,26; 33,8; 82,15; 86,11; identification, 83,13; interpretation, 19,18; 32,15.20.26; 82,16; reading, 81,25.28; 82,14 anarmostia, disorder, 93,31 anastrephein, return, 26,19; anastrephesthai, be concerned with, concern self with, 29,9; 83,28; 84,14; 85,21; 86,19; be involved, 20,18; behave, 53,17; 77,27.30; 78,9.17; dwell, 15,16; have a (difficult) time, 101,14; occupy self, 22,17 anatasis, straining, 52,8 anateinein, deal with, 85,22; have on one’s lips, 104,16; offer up, 58,32; reach up, 34,29; 44,16; 47,12 anathumiasis, exhalation, 90,9 anatithenai, attribute, 77,2; 90,8; dedicate, 48,16.28; 71,17; 95,14; set up, 48,18 anatrekhein, ascend, 83,29; get back, 69,4; have recourse to, 32,28; 33,3; resort to, 32,21; return, 49,24; 93,28 anatrepein, overthrow, 61,6 anegeirein, awaken, 89,34; 115,5; 119,31 anelittein, explicate, 69,25; aneiligmenos, explicit, 113,16

284

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anelixis, unfolding, 112,33 anepilêstos, unforgettable, 28,20 anepistêmôn, without any science, 7,9 anepitêdeios, unfit, 91,10 anepitêdeiotês, unfitness, 91,16 anerkhesthai, ascend, 12,11; go back, 93,28; return, 69,11 angelikos, angelic, 106,17 angelos, angel, 42,14 aniatros, non-­doctor, 40,3 anienai, ascend, 68,21; 92,10; retreat, 31,13 anieroun, dedicate, 74,21; 80,13; 95,4 anodos, ascent, 6,3; 78,5.10; 92,7; 93,29; 112,29 anoêtos, out of one’s mind, 64,20 anôlethros, indestructible, 108,30 anomoiotês, unlikeness, 63,1.6 anôphelês, unprofitable, 61,18 anorthoun, restore, 21,9 anous, mindless, 6,15 anteran, love mutually, 12,22 antexetazein, contrast, 104,18 anthrôpeios, human, 106,20 anthrôpikos, human, 20,7.9; 29,9; 59,4; 75,9.13; 96,30; 100,17.24; 103,11; 104,19–20.23 anthrôpinos, human, 6,4; 20,11; 96,32; 100,6.22; 101,24; 104,8; 106,3.12.21; 107,16; 108,5; 119,33 anthrôpos, human, human being, 10,25; 28,24; 42,13, etc.; humanity, 10,26.30; 28,19; man/men, 1,5; 7,6; 18,8, etc.; mortal, 68,3; 69,29; patient, 7,28; person/people, 19,25; 45,4; 46,20, etc.; hôs anthrôpon, in a human manner, 30,22; teleion eidos anthrôpou, mature adult, 99,13 anthupophora, objection, 37,13 antidiairein, oppose, 61,9 antigraphê, reply, 9,16 antigraphein, write against, 10,14.29; write in reply, 9,11 antikeisthai, be opposite, 11,14; 60,14– 15.19; 100,4; oppose, 10,19 antikharis, return of a favour, 25,14 antikharizein, return/reciprocate a favour, 25,11.16–17.29 antiparaballein, contrast, 104,20

antiparathesis, counter-­presentation, 9,16 antipoiein, look for, 37,9; 42,2 antistrephein, be convertible, 118,20; reciprocate, 55,6; 114,7 antistrophê, conversion, 28,25 antistrophôs, back to front, 16,16 antithesis, negation, 28,25 antitupos, resistant, 44,4; tangible, 35,5 anumnein, celebrate, 81,33; 83,32; 85,20; hymn, 68,11; praise, 30,4; 51,25; 88,9 anupeuthunos, not subject to a penalty, 102,7 aoratos, invisible, 5,30; 112,16 aoristia, the boundless, 33,2; indeterminacy, 93,30 aoristos, limitless, 56,32; 57,3 aoristôs, without any determinate reference, 86,2 apagôgê eis adunaton, reductio ad absurdum, 108,23; 122,21 apaideutos, ill-­bred, 41,4; unscholarly, 33,10 apallagê, release from, 73,4 apallattein, cure of, 102,2; deliver from, 101,4.7; free from, 102,30 apatan, deceive, 53,5; 77,1; apatasthai, be mistaken, 16,15; go wrong, 24,1 apatê, deception, 7,11; error, 21,20; 22,4; 23,29 apatêlos, deceptive, 11,5; 23,9.22 apathês, passionless, 24,26 apeirakis, times without number, 59,22 apeiria (A), ignorance, 100,2 apeiria (B), the unlimited, 33,2 apeirokalia, ignorance of the beautiful, 99,24 apeirokalôs, from ignorance of the beautiful, 100,1 apeirokalos, tasteless, 10,17 apeiros (A), ignorant of, 40,5; unfamiliar with, 61,27 apeiros (B), infinite, 110,17; unbounded, 56,32; 96,15; ep’ apeiron, to infinity, 110,13.20; 121,18; 122,15 apelatikos, that which can drive off, 79,7 aperilêptos, beyond comprehension, 91,30 aphairein, deprive, 118,14; do away with, 28,29; exclude, 72,29; take away, 85,26 aphairesis, removal, 78,28

Greek–English Index aphanês, invisible, 14,4; 48,20–1.30; unseen, 11,17; 30,10; 71,18; 82,1–2.4 aphistanai (transitive forms), detach from, 68,15; keep away from, 1,15; 11,31; remove from, 58,28; (intransitive forms), cease, 52,10; depart from, 93,25; 112,27; distance self from, 82,9; 83,16; give up, 78,6; keep away from, 84,12; neglect, 77,23.26; reject, 77,29; withdraw from, 78,1; 93,19.22 aphosiôsis, atonement, 72,12 aphosioun, make atonement, 72,5–6.11 aphrastos, unutterable, 95,1 aphtharsia, imperishability, 122,20 aphthartos, imperishable, 108,30; 109,27; 113,25; 117,29; 120,6; 123,1.10 aphthonos, unstinting, 120,15 apistia, faithlessness, 4,12 apistos, unfaithful, 63,16; unpersuasive, 105,24.30; 106,10; 107,20; untrustworthy, 1,20; 4,14 aplêthuntôs, without plurality, 50,8 apodeiknunai, demonstrate, 9,27; 60,29; 106,4; 112,9; 123,1; establish, 105,4; make, 7,28; 122,9; produce proofs, 11,27; prove, 107,1; 108,22; 112,2; 123,10; reveal, 58,16; show, 39,21; 60,5; 113,11 apodeiktikos, demonstrative, 5,29; 108,21; for demonstration, 57,33 apodeixis, demonstration, 21,9; 54,11; 58,14; 60,2; 107,18.21; demonstrative argument, 53,17; proof, 57,33; 105,23.25.33–4; 106,8.10.22; 107,17.25; 108,15.19; 109,7; 113,14.16.30; 122,20; 123,2 apodidonai, assign to, 73,14; 112,34; deliver, 6,19; give, 55,4; 58,3.13.19; give back, 102,8; restore, 123,3; apodidonai kharin, show gratitude, 39,27; apodidonai tên axian, recompense, 36,18 apodoteon, should be taken, 52,27 apogennan, generate, 122,1 apogignesthai, cease to be, 21,10; leave, 18,20.23; pass away, 18,18 apogonos, descendant, 101,14 apokatastasis, restoration, 91,28; 93,29; return to the same [position], 112,34

285

apokathairein, purge, 79,23 apokathistanai, make, 25,21; restore, 92,10 apokhran, use, 81,24 apoklêroun, allot, 70,25.33 apokrinesthai, reply, 18,10; 49,17 apokrisis, answer, 17,16; 18,1; reply, 18,6 apolluein, destroy, 122,22.28; perish, 68,31; 69,2.7–8; 122,24.26 apologeisthai, apologise, 102,14; offer an apology, 102,6 apomnêmoneuein, remember, 29,1 apophasis (A), negation, 28,25; kat’ apophasin, involving negation, 28,8 apophasis (B), judgement, 54,14; sentencing, 79,32 apopiptein, drop out, 67,29; fall, 46,18; fall away, 82,6 apoplêrôsis, fulfilment, 72,13 apoplêrôtês, facilitator, 70,26 apoplêroun, discharge, 52,6 apoptôsis, falling away, 12,19; 92,9; perversion, 59,11 aporein, pose a question, 25,28; puzzle, 112,15.17; raise a difficulty, 96,24 aporia, difficulty, 72,17; perplexity, 52,25; puzzlement, 112,18 aporos, hard up for money, 4,9; in difficult circumstances, 48,4 aporroia, emanation, 82,31; 83,1 aposêmeiôsis, note, 75,18 apotelein, bring about, 96,5; produce, 89,24; 95,19.24; 97,16; 100,27 apotelesma, effect, 112,5; product, 17,7 apotemakhizein, cut off, 67,30 apotetorneumenos, well-­rounded, 2,7; 43,27; 44,3.28 apotrepein, deter, 71,19; discourage, 37,7; prevent, 59,29; turn back, 70,8; apotrepesthai, shun, 26,4; turn a deaf ear to, 62,24 apotropê, deterrence, 71,22; dissuasion, 71,25 apröimiastos, lacking a prologue, 53,13 apsukhos, inanimate, 114,31; soulless, 117,6; without soul, 91,4 aretê, virtue, 4,6; 13,1.4; 21,1; 51,13; 64,13; 66,26; 68,17; 76,8; 77,15; 85,18; 96,7; 103,3 aristera, left hand, 21,25; 29,4

286

Greek–English Index

aristokratikos, aristocratic, 92,6.8 aristos, best, 43,6; 44,23; 56,6 arithmos, number, 17,7; 83,7; 95,3.5.9.18.20; 108,24; 110,31; 112,24; kat’ arithmon, numerically, 116,18 arkhê, beginning, 11,25; 13,5; 17,15, etc.; commencement, 16,19; origin, 5,7; 15,29; 35,3; 78,14; 93,28; 112,2; 120,32; principle, 9,25; 27,22; 49,24, etc.; regime, 56,16.18; root, 15,22; source, 109,6.26; start, 28,25; starting-­point, 2,11; 5,11; 9,13, etc.; arkhên arkhein, hold office, 75,6; ex arkhês, at first, 45,1; at the outset, 44,25; from the beginning, 114,18; initially, 28,30; 81,14; 82,5; original, 104,27; originally, 93,18; 99,11 arkhein, begin, 2,10; 4,18; 12,18, etc.; originate, 62,16; 122,7; rise, 6,8; rule, 56,9–10; 57,4; 60,31; start, 2,9; 3,11; 39,13; arkhên arkhein, hold office, 75,6 arkhoeidês, fundamental, 73,23 arkhôn, archon, 47,2.6 artêria, windpipe, 73,12 arthron, article (grammar), 18,22 asapheia, lack of clarity, 75,20 asaphês, invisible, 44,6; not manifest, 15,12.14; unclear, 98,23 asebês, impious, 76,14.14.17.22; 84,4 askhêmatistos, shapeless, 10,1; 12,7; 44,7; 117,5 askhêmosunê, formlessness, 50,29 askholia, business, 20,6–7.13 asômatos, incorporeal, 5,29; 44,1.7; 110,29; 113,5; 119,6 asteroskopia, star-­watching, 100,8 astron, star, 69,20; 91,14 asullogistos, illogical, 22,18 asullogistôs, without any reasoning, 21,12 asummetria, asymmetry, 61,7 asummetron, to, asymmetry, 61,12 ataktos, disorderly, 3,11; jumbled, 2,8; lacking order, 2,16; unordered, 33,26 ataktôs, in a disorderly fashion, 2,16; 34,5; untidily, 4,2; a. keisthai, be out of order, 39,5.12 ataxia, disorderliness, 38,5.18 atekhnia, lack of skill, 10,16 atekhnos, lacking art, 7,8

atelês, incomplete, 109,6; uninitiated, 17,28; unperfected, 27,7; unsuccessful, 104,3; to ateles, imperfection, 61,12 athanasia, immortality, 5,28; 9,27; 11,27; 105,8.27.32–3; 106,27–8; 107,7.14.20.23; 108,22; 113,13.15; 118,24 athanatos, immortal, 5,27; 106,22.35; 107,1–3.12.26; 108,18.28.31; 109,24.27– 8; 113,17.24–5.29; 114,2–4; 115,19; 118,17.21–3.26.31; 120,4.6 atheos, godless, 11,10; to atheon, godlessness, 11,5 athroos, all at once, 92,5; all-­inclusive, 112,30 atomos, individual, 45,20; 49,4; 67,30 augoeidês, luminous, 74,2 aulos, immaterial, 66,21; 116,29; auloteros, more immaterial, 12,27; 27,4; 29,14; 42,7; 69,15; 83,17 autarkeia, self-­sufficiency, 120,12 autarkês, self-­sufficient, 120,14; to autarkes, self-­sufficiency, 60,10 autoanthrôpos, man-­himself, 121,1 autodikaion, to, justice-­itself, 122,5 autodikaiosunê, justice-­itself, 6,7; 122,4 autoison, to, the equal-­itself, 120,34 autokallos, beauty-­itself, 5,26; 29,14 autokalon, to, the beautiful-­itself, 42,25 autokinêsia, self-­motion, 113,15; 115,15; 117,2.18.26; 118,6.24 autokinêtos, self-­moved, 109–120; of self-­motion, 67,25; to autokinêton, self-­motion, 109,4; 115,2; 117,3; 119,14.29; the / that which is self-­ moved, 109–12; 114–16; 120–1 autophôs, light-­itself, 115,14 autophuôs, of something’s very nature, 92,19; spontaneously, 115,1; 121,12 autopsukhê, absolute soul, 33,15–16.18 autoptein, see of its own accord, 106,9 autosôphrosunê, moderation-­itself, 6,7 autozôos, self-­vivifying, 114,20 auxêsis, growth, 112,25 bakkheia, Bacchic revel, 77,16 basileus, king, 47,3.12 bathmos, degree, 92,3.6 bathunein, plumb, 29,24 bia, force, 50,3; violence, 50,24.26

Greek–English Index bios, life, 20,8.10; 71,16.22; 83,8; 90,32; 96,11.18.32; 98,30.32; 101,9.23–4.27; 106,6; lifespan, 74,4; manner of living, 96,8; 103,4; way of life, 6,9; b. mantikos, life of the seer, 99,5; b. philosophos, philosophical life, 90,31 bioun, live, 9,4 blabê, harm, 4,4; 79,11.13–14.16; 81,7; 83,27; 105,17 blaberos, harmful, 1,18; 23,21.25; 54,8; 60,3.14.16.20; 61,18.22.33; 63,12.16; 96,10 blaptesthai, be harmed, 79,15; 81,6– 7.17.21; 83,26; suffer harm, 11,2; 79,10.13; 81,13 boêtheia, assistance, 58,33; 79,4.8 boêthein, assist, 90,28 bômos, altar, 32,4–5; 40,14.17; 102,25 boulêsis, wish, 26,12; 119,23.26; wishing, 25,29; 26,2 brôsis, eating, 71,6 daimôn, daemon, 13,24; 42,11.18; 43,13–15; 52,5; 59,8; 62,14.18.22–3.26; 70,14–15.24.27.32.34; 71,3–6.9.19; 72,16–17; 73,30; 74,3.5.8–12.15–16; 89,21; 101,27.30; 106,2 daimoniôdês, daemonic, 96,12 daimonios, daemonic, 62,17; 70,7.11; 72,14; 73,22.28–9; 75,13.22; 77,6; 106,17; to daimonion, daemon, 4,25; 67,5; 68,4; 70,3.9; 71,8.25.30.32.34; 72,4; 79,12; the daemonic, 42,13–14; 46,5; 62,15 daimoniôs, daemonically, 42,5.8.10.21 daizein, distribute, 42,20 deiknunai, demonstrate, 115,2; 120,13; indicate, 51,11; prove, 81,23; 107,8; put, 81,29; show, 5,15; 9,4; 10,23, etc.; d. logon, declaim a speech, 50,25; ep’ eutheias d., use direct proof, 108,22; dekhesthai, admit of, 31,30; receive, 73,16.18; 89,3; 91,9.11; 111,8; undergo, 31,25 dektikos, that which receives, 67,7 delear, lure, 62,20 deleazein, entice, 77,1 dêmiourgia, creation, 34,10; 42,31; 48,19.30; 97,31; demiurgic work, 98,22 dêmiourgos, Demiurge, 17,2.4; 45,12.27; 50,27; 54,20; 66,31; 67,26; 113,2

287

dêmôdês, popular, 7,4.7; 9,10 dêmokratikos, democratic, 92,7 dêmos, people, 20,24; en dêmôi, in public, 40,19 dêmosion, to, treasury, 75,2 dendron, tree, 30,5; 35,6; 86,16 desmein, bind, 43,20; 57,25 desmos, bond, 57,26 despotês, Lord, 47,15 despotis, mistress, 118,1 despozein, be the master, 121,13 diaballein, denigrate, 20,1; make fun of, 10,16; reproach, 33,2 diabolê, criticism, 4,2 diairein, divide, 4,1; 5,16; 6,6; 9,19; 34,14; 45,13; 55,28; 60,22; 61,32; 63,13; 74,27; 97,31; 98,1; 103,24; diêirêmenos, discursive, 108,18 diairesis, division, 35,19; 49,3; 94,20; 96,25–6; 97,30; 98,5; separation, 62,16 diairetikê, division, 54,31; 55,2; 95,25; method/process of division, 13,4; 54,12.30 diairetos, divided, 49,4 diakatekhein, keep, 67,5 diakathairein, purify, 91,5 diakeisthai, be, 102,32; be in a certain way, 80,16; be in a condition, 61,13; have feelings about, 58,17 diakôluein, prevent, 60,28; 69,33 diakosmêsis, ordering, 10,31 diakrinein, distinguish, 9,10 diakrisis, distinction, 13,16; separation, 112,25.31 dialektikos, dialectical, 24,33; dialectician, 105,29; hê dialektikê, dialectic, 22,26 dialogikos, writer of dialogues, 17,24 dialogos, dialogue, 1,11; 9,13; 10,5; 11,21.24–5.28; 12,4.9; 13,13 diamakhesthai, contradict, 54,17 diamartia, miscalculation, 23,29; wrong turning, 16,32 dianoêma, idea, 11,8; thought, 14,18 dianoêtikos, discursive, 89,8 dianoia, attention, 51,17; discursive thought, 21,6.8; 22,2.13.18.20; 88,23–4; 89,15.18.22; 90,3; 93,22; gist, 29,2; intention, 69,4; meaning, 13,6; thought, 78,18; 83,33

288

Greek–English Index

dianomê, dispensation, 33,22 diaphônein, disagree, 109,35 diaphora, difference, 7,1; 8,3; 13,15; 53,12; 86,11; diversity, 1,6; different situation, 79,9; different type, 90,9; differentia, 55,24 diaplattein, mould, 119,7 diaporthmeuein, convey, 70,12 diarkês, enduring, 97,21 diaspan, disperse, 63,8 diastasis, extension, 116,31; separation, 15,29 diastellein, make a distinction, 93,10 diathesis, arrangement, 3,9; condition, 23,26; disposition, 9,21; 25,18–20; 28,9; motivation, 48,9; situation, 53,26 diatithenai, treat, 36,20 diatribê, discourse, 77,4; occupation with, 69,12; profession, 84,12; school, 18,3; spending time, 18,27; 20,8 diatribein, concern self with, 83,15–16; 84,15; dwell, 59,9; occupy self with, 32,27; 45,34; spend time, 18,26; 29,18; 33,5; 67,1; 77,24.26.29 didaskalia, teaching, 31,2; 67,14 didaskalos, teacher, 62,30; 67,23; 115,34; 116,1 didaskein, teach, 9,9; 15,27; 22,24; didaskesthai, learn, 16,13 diegeirein, awaken, 23,13; 76,30; 85,10; provoke, 71,31 diexodikôs, discursively, 89,6.9 diexodos, discursive nature, 22,4 diistanai (intransitive forms), differ, 73,10 [but see note there]; be distributed, 117,13; be separate, 15,30 dikaios, just, 7,5; 45,26; 122,4 dikaiosunê, justice, 10,21; 100,31 dikaioun, make just, 122,6 dikastês, juror, 11,1; judge, 79,30 dikê, justice, 101,18, 102,17; penalty, 101,10.12.32; 102,7.9; punishment, 101,15; right, 122,5.6; ta tês dikês, a just result, 102,18 dikhonoia, disagreement, 15,25 dinê, vortex, 32,28 dioikein, control, 70,28 dioran, discern, 16,8 diorthousthai, put back on the right path, 43,9

diplasiologia, duplication, 7,16 diplasios, double, 95,15 dithurambikos, dithyrambic, 58,5 dithurambôdês, dithyrambic, 66,6 dithurambos, dithyramb, 58,31; 59,13– 14.16.18.23; 65,25; 66,4.10.12; 68,10 dogma, doctrine, 110,25 dokein, seem, 18,17; 52,28–31; 53,2; 97,18; 99,3 dokêsis, appearance, 6,30 dokheus, recipient, 91,11; 103,7 dosis, gift, 91,31; 94,16.18 doxa, judgement, 55,31; 56,1.4; 57,9; 67,18; opinion, 9,12; 15,5; 21,6.11.14.18.21.26.31–2; 22,16.20; 25,3.5; 53,3–5; 88,23; 89,24; 119,23.26; position, 24,33; view, 10,27 doxasma, belief, 79,5; notion, 103,10 doxastikôs, on the level of opinion, 45,9 doxastikos, opining, 94,6; opinionative, 29,6; 97,15; to doxastikon, the judging faculty, 55,32 doxastos, of mere opinion, 29,8 doxazein, believe, 53,4; form opinion, 110,8 doxosophia, overestimation of one’s own wisdom, 8,15; self-­evaluation, 53,3 dran, do, 93,15 drastêrios, active, 116,25 drastikos, active, 15,31; effective, 29,12 dunamis, aspect, 34,18; capability, 25,30; 26,10; 33,6; capacity, 98,2; faculty, 21,5.14; 29,30; 34,28; function, 26,3; means, 39,3; power, 5,31; 13,18.22; 18,14, etc.; dunamei, potential, 88,26; 111,17; hôs eikhe dunameôs, as best as he was able, 44,17 duseknuptos, difficult to wash away, 101,33 dusiatos, difficult to remedy, 102,12 duskatastatos, disorderly, 66,12 duskinêtos, unwavering, 55,21 dusmetadotos, slow to give of oneself, 71,31 egeirein, awaken, 103,11; elevate, 29,17 eidêsis, knowledge, 28,13 eidikos, formal, 90,13; to eidikon, formal cause, 112,5 eidôlikôs, by reflection, 119,4; as an image, 119,12

Greek–English Index eidôlon, apparition, 82,26.28 eidopoiein, form, 17,4 eidopoios, formative, 17,7 eidos, form, 6,9; 10,4; 17,25–6.28, etc.; kind, 8,2; 52,22; 62,19; 73,14.20; 105,14; 117,14; 118,24; 121,4.36; musical mode, 52,21; nature, 5,30; 52,21; species, 95,24; 120,34; 121,3; type, 8,2; 79,18; 88,12; 103,24; kata to eidos, in the mode, 34,2; kata to theion eidos, god-­like, 51,8 eikôn, archetype, 81,18; example, 21,1.32; image, 6,16–17; 14,18; 21,15.19.21; 27,27; 29,14; 35,8; 47,6.14; 95,22; likeness, 48,18.23; 74,21; 104,28; statue, 3,2 eikonikos, imaged, 47,8.16 eikotologia, probability, 32,18; 33,9; conjecture, 32,27 einai, to be, passim; to einai, being, 89,12–13; 111,8–9.12; 115,3.6; 119,8; 121,25.31; existence, 117,19; 118,8.11 eirôneia, irony, 44,10; 83,24 eisdekhesthai, receive, 46,21 eiskrinein, enter, 56,2 eisoran, learn, 91,28 eisreein, stream in, 86,14 ekbakkheuein, stimulate to Bacchic frenzy, 103,12.20 ekdokhê, reading, 119,32 ekgonos, descendant, 101,10 ekkalein, arouse, 50,2 ekkathairein, purify, 85,24 eklegein, choose, 40,2; select, 40,4; 59,23 ekphainein, identify, 109,19; show, 33,27 ekpiptein, fall, 29,8; fall out of, 49,9.11.13; slip, 36,1; tumble, 33,2 ekplêttein, amaze, 42,8.21.23.25; impress, 11,8 ekstasis, ecstasy, 88,11.13 ekteinein, extend, 96,14; 104,1; 108,2; 120,27; prolong, 121,21 ektemnein, behead, 57,3 ekteneia, generosity, 120,13.17 ektenês, generous, 120,14 ektithenai, deploy, 109,3; mention, 104,22; place, 109,32; 113,27; present, 108,24; 109,22; put, 113,27; set forth, 1,12; 120,8; set out, 82,17; 109,21; 120,4 elakhistos, narrowest, 113,25

289

elenkhein, censure, 7,10; expose, 11,6; 27,19; put to the question, 29,11; refute, 10,27 elenkhos, criticism, 2,17; 9,17; refutation, 7,13; 79,6 elenktikos, critical, 11,22 ellampein, illuminate, 58,25; 91,7.15; 97,23.26 ellampsis, illumination, 59,1.3.27; 91,10.19; irradiation, 32,9; 58,21 embadon, surface area, 97,10 emmenein, remain fixed, 82,2 emmetrôs, in metre, 96,8; in metrical form, 96,6 emmetros, in regular metre, 66,15; in verse, 92,18; 99,12; measured, 66,11; metrical, 66,14 empathês, impassioned, 57,1; passionate, 24,27; subject to the passions, 74,10 emphanês, visible, 47,9.16; 48,20.22; eis to emphanes, into the open, 28,29 emphasis, image (in a mirror), 119,12; reflection, 119,9 emphorein, fill, 91,12 emphrôn, sane, 100,5; sensible, 113,11 emphronôs, in an intelligent manner, 78,18; intelligently, 78,17 emphutos, inborn, 16,21; innate, 23,11; 25,18; 28,14; 55,34; 61,29 empimplanai, make full, 35,25 empiptein, come one’s way, 102,24; light upon, 16,7 empneein, inspire, 58,32 empodion, impediment, 67,16.24 empodizein, be an obstacle, 17,12 empoiein, bring about, 88,29; produce, 88,11.13 empsukhia, animation, 108,10; 113,6 empsukhos, animate, 91,6; 114,32; ensouled, 111,4; lively, 6,16 empsukhoun, animate, 91,17 enantiologia, contradiction, 54,24 enantiôma, something incompatible, 39,15; contradiction, 40,11 enantios, a contradiction, 39,1; in constrast, 52,30; opposite, 4,22; 15,28; 26,4; 60,16; 67,21; 79,17; 110,26; 113,30; that contradicts, 38,12; ex enantias, by way of contrast, 102,32

290

Greek–English Index

enantiôsis, opposition, 79,18 enantiôtikos, oppositional, 25,25 enantiousthai, be at odds with, 60,13; go against, 61,16 enapomagma, impression, 21,25 enargeia, self-­evidence, 114,28 enarmonios, harmonious, 73,30 endeês, needy, 15,31 endeia, deficiency, 63,4 endeigma, exemplar, 81,22 endeiknunai, convey, 6,16; indicate, 49,23; 91,23; 106,22; mean, 68,31; point out, 72,10; provide indications, 83,13; show, 18,28; 29,12; 51,6.8; 107,23; 108,16 endeiktikos, having reference to, 33,4; indicative, 26,25; revelatory, 27,28 endekhomenos, contingent, 25,31; what might have been, 38,10 endiathetos, interior, 24,3 endidonai, bestow, 20,5; 88,10; 99,16; emit, 73,16; give, 113,8; grant, 58,21; 82,31; 89,19 endoxos, authoritative, 99,19; received, 24,29 energeia, action, 13,19; 91,31; activity, 13,22; 29,17; 34,31; 35,8; 43,3–4; 45,12; 46,7.22.27; 51,8.10; 52,16.21; 55,15.19; 59,3.24; 66,27; 67,4; 68,13; 69,31; 71,17; 77,4.12.16.20–3.25; 78,1.6.11–12; 79,27; 93,12; 95,4; 96,4; 98,11; 99,17; 104,1; 112,21; 117,18.21.23.28.30; effect, 96,5; working, 103,27; energeiâi, active, 111,18 energein, act, 26,16; 90,20; be active, 44,20; 46,12; 90,32; be aroused, 89,28; be engaged with, 44,18; behave, 30,22–3; 58,7; busy self, 35,1.10; do, 68,12; engage in activity, 51,10.22; engage with, 83,34; exert, 51,4; function, 34,2; 44,11.15; 94,2–3.6.8; 98,3; 101,7; have influence on, 51,1; operate, 42,30; 50,8; 89,9; 90,21.26.29–30; 91,3.12–13; 93,33; spend time on, 35,13; work, 59,5; e. enthousiastikôs, become inspired, 70,1 enidruein, establish, 94,31; set, 102,31 enkaluptesthai, cover the head, 3,14; 51,9.13.15.19; 83,34 enkephalos, brain, 46,6 enkômiazein, praise, 46,4

enkômion, commendation, 54,1; encomium, 45,34 enkosmios, encosmic, 13,1; 32,7 enkrateia, self-­control, 56,13.17 ennoia, concept, 68,26; 78,23; conception, 54,19; notion, 78,27 enokhlein, trouble, 101,8 entheastikos, inspired, 92,20 entheos, inspired, divinely-­inspired, 13,9; 35,12; 46,22; 77,4; 82,13; 97,19; 103,5.29; 104,1–3.9.18.20.22; 105,18; 107,9 enthousian, be/become inspired, divinely inspired, 4,18; 30,21; 66,15.16.25; 68,19; 82,9.11; 88,19; 89,22.24.28.31; 90,12.15.17; 91,2–3; 98,25; 106,5; be/ become possessed, 65,23–5; 66,1.6.9 enthousiasmos, inspiration, divine inspiration, 43,2; 66,11.28; 88,16.18.20.22; 89,14.19–20.32–3; 90,6.8.12; 91,18; 92,27; 95,22; 97,20; 103,14.21; 104,28; 105,13; telestikos enthousiasmos, telestic inspiration, 103,15 enthousiastikôs, in an inspired manner, 58,7; 70,1 enthousiastikos, inspired, 12,2; 46,7.17.27; 51,11.25; 53,9; 68,5; 69,29; 76,9.11; 77,16; 78,23; 83,18.29 enthousiazein, be inspired, 68,11 entopios, of the place, 8,24 entrepein, have regard for, 16,24 entreptikos, demanding of attention, 28,26 enulos, enmattered, 19,20; 29,8; 33,6; 35,5; 44,5.21; 50,6; 59,21; 66,24; 69,14; 82,19–20; 83,15; 84,10.14; 86,15; 121,7; material, 18,27; 23,8; 26,25; 33,5; 53,11; 117,4; wooded, 69,16 enuparkhein, be present, 45,11 epagein, add, 39,22; 107,29; 113,16; call, 7,23; follow, 16,18; go on to, 105,9; include, 113,19; incur, 101,12; lead, 67,27; make, 64,16; put forward, 24,27 epagôgê, induction, 67,26 epaïein, understand, 42,28 epainein, commend, 51,12; praise, 2,5; 3,9; 4,21; 8,22; 34,13; 37,10; 40,16; 46,29; 48,5; 68,11; 80,29 epainos, accolade, 20,26; approval, 20,19; commendation, 54,1; praise, 34,11–12; 85,1

Greek–English Index epamphoterizein, go either way, 25,30; 26,10 epanabebêkôs, higher, 62,22; 103,16 epanabibasmos, step, 12,30 epanagein, elevate, 1,10; 24,1; lead back, 94,11; lead up, 11,9; 13,31; 15,26 epanatrekhein, return, 78,25 epanienai, ascend, 12,31; return, 83,7 epanodos, journey home, 83,12; recapitulation, 7,18 epanorthoun, put back on the right course, 102,18 epaphê, contact, 68,24 eparkhein, govern, 33,25; 70,16; preside, 31,2; rule, 34,23; 48,25.29; 70,24 êpatêmenôs, mistakenly, 22,21 epêbolos, acquainted with, 7,5; in control of, 21,16 epêbolôs, correctly, 75,25 epeisaktos, of external origin, 111,15 epekhein, check, 69,33; suppress, 59,2.5; e. logon, have the status of, 112,7 eperastos, loveable, 86,22 ephaptein, be in contact with, 106,32–3; 107,4; be passionate, 76,5; contact, make contact with, 30,1; 34,28; hit on, 92,22; light, 40,19 epharmozein, accommodate, 32,20; apply to, 72,25; fit to, 113,21 ephêbos, young man, 40,18 ephelkein, draw, 26,3; 82,30; pull, 23,12 ephesis, desire, 16,12; 50,2; yearning, 9,22 ephienai, aim for, 56,6; allow, 72,1; desire, 16,15; 31,21; 65,14; 70,9; 95,12; 106,18; give, 24,31; turn to, 22,13 ephistanai (transitive forms), appoint, 67,4; set over, 121,13; (intransitive forms), preside, 74,12 ephoros, guardian, 46,1; 101,30; overseer, 28,3; 42,31; 58,28.31; 68,17; 69,31; 74,6; 93,7; presiding, 5,17; 28,5; 30,18; 32,2; 34,18–20; 62,21; 97,27 ephubristos, licentious, 6,14 epibainein, enter, 34,22; impinge on, 91,29 epiblêtikos, understanding intuitively, 105,30 epibolê, apprehension, 93,21.23; interpretation, 1,13; 82,7; intuition, 89,6; manifestation, 96,28; perspective, 95,13; 122,7; point of view, 15,9; stroke, 123,7

291

epideiknunai, demonstrate, 6,31; display, 50,28; show, 1,20; 45,9; 51,1; 108,29; e. logon, perform / declaim a speech, 48,22; 50,17 epididonai, devote self, 88,28; 112,26; give self over to, 79,27; 115,35 epikalein, invoke, 52,7.12; 64,8 epikekalummenos, veiled, 16,8 epikheirêma, argument, 5,13; 38,6.18; 39,9.12; 40,5; 84,18; 87,14.19.24; 99,14; 108,24.27; 114,28; consideration, 36,13 epikourikos, guardian, 74,14 epikratein, dominate, 94,14 epiktêtos, acquired, 46,28; 56,2 epilambanesthai, grasp, 21,8 epilampein, shine, 31,8; 46,1 epilanthanesthai, forget, 27,8.16; 28,16.21.23; 46,25; 49,21.23; 53,21; 71,2; 77,24; 101,22; 117,24 epimeleisthai, attend, 110,7; care for, 20,12; 58,34; look after, 102,2 epimeles, business, 14,20; concern, 20,12 epimuthion, moral (of a story), 68,28 epimuthios, fabulous, 53,9 epiplekein, interlink, 103,13 epipneein, inspire, 90,1 epipnoia, inspiration, 30,10; 58,21; 90,13; 91,19; 92,28; 97,15.28 episkeptesthai, assess, 14,21; investigate, 85,19; observe, 83,22 episkhesis, impediment, 4,26 epistasia, oversight, 70,32; 71,3 epistêmê, knowledge, 7,5; 8,19; 15,6; 22,28; 28,16; 29,8; 53,4–5.7.18; 56,4; 67,18; 110,18; science, 13,1.4; 14,11; 51,13; 66,26; 68,17; 76,7; 77,15; 85,17; 89,8.22; 90,5; 97,21.26 epistêmôn, knowledgeable, 24,2; learned, 46,2; one who knows, 27,6; wise, 15,22; 27,9; 51,20; 105,30 epistêmonikôs, in a manner that is well-­informed, 42,11 epistêmonikos, scientific, 5,28; 58,19; epistêmonikôteros, better-­equipped mentally, 61,21; to e., the clever or learned, 61,25 epistrephein, attend to, 70,34; 71,6.8; direct, 9,3; return, 94,10; revert, 22,7.15; 52,10; 85,3.25.33; 105,19; turn, 43,17; 62,23;

292

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63,2.5; 68,16; 96,20; 119,31; turn back, 22,10.12 epistreptikos, that which turns, 14,13 epistrophê, attention, 70,28 episunthesin, kat’, by addition, 95,19 epitêdeios, conducive, 90,17; fitted, 71,11; ready, 34,26; 51,6; 69,28; 70,2; 101,29; receptive, 47,11; suitable, 91,9; suited, 29,27; epitêdeioteros, better, 36,22; to epitêdeion, readiness, 29,25 epitêdeiôs ekhein, be fit for, 94,19; be suited, 9,7; 15,28; have an aptitude, 11,2 epitêdeiotês, aptitude, 68,4; fitness, 17,11; propensity, 90,2; readiness, 67,7; 70,28.32; 116,12.24; suitability, 17,6; 90,9; 97,24 epitêdeuein, make use of, 92,29; practise, 46,17 epitêdeuma, behaviour, 38,3; 41,7; occupation, 99,20; practice, 96,29; pursuit, 14,11; way of life, 1,7; 96,8; 103,3 epithumein, be eager for, 26,15; desire, 37,9; 55,5.7; 57,5.21; fancy, 89,30; have desire, 3,20; 55,16 epithumêtikon, appetitive side, 76,31; desiring part, 23,13; 55,13–14.16.21.33 epithumêtikôs ekhô, my desire, 55,14 epithumia, desire, 3,19.22.24; 4,7; 12,26, etc.; fancy, 89,31 epitrepein, direct, 24,17; turn towards, 70,8 epitritos, musical third, 95,14 epitropeuein, oversee, 62,19; 66,19 epôidê, enchantment, 104,25 eran, be a lover, 55,18; have a love affair, 41,7; love, be in love, 1,14–15.18.20; 4,2–3.12.16, etc.; duo erônte, a couple, 40,20; ho erômenos, beloved, 4,4–5.9.13; 6,11, etc.; one who is loved, 1,19; 39,16–17; 106,14; object of love, 12,27.29; ho erôn, lover, 1,17; 4,20.22; 12,1, etc.; one who loves / is in love, 3,7; 5,25; 36,22; 37,2; 38,1; 39,4; 42,2; 64,20; ho mê erôn, non-­lover, 1,16.21; 3,7.20, etc.; one not in love, 48,8; one who does not love, 67,10; ta erônta, agents of love, 13,11 erastês, lover, 1,15.21–2; 2,17; 11,29.32, etc.; mê e., non-­lover, 11,30; 23,3

erasthai, be in love, 36,14 eraston, to, object of love, 12,13; 13,12– 13.16.20; 77,7 êremein, be dormant, 59,4 êremia, deserted spot, 50,4 erêmia, peace, 20,20.22 erêmos, bereft, 4,7 eristikos, captious, 105,24.29 eristikôs, eristically, 24,35 erôs, love, 3,17.19.23.25; 4,12, etc.; love ­affair, 2,10; passion, 19,23; e. aêdês, odious love, 54,7; e. aiskhros, shameful love, 76,11; disgraceful love, 54,7; base love, 23,17; e. akolastos, licentious love, 12,2; 19,23, etc.; e. akros, highest love, 46,17; e. alêthinos, genuine love, 68,26; e. anagôgos, elevating love, 46,17; 51,25; 53,29; 67,6; 68,3.11; 76,12; 77,4; 83,18.32; 85,21; 107,6; e. apopeptôkôs, fallen love, 46,18; e. daimonios, daemonic love, 77,6; e. diastrophos, warped love, 85,25; e. en hubrei, lustful love, 58,10; e. enthous, inspired love, 35,12; 77,4; e. enthousiastikos, inspired love, 12,2; 46,17; 51,25; 76,11; 83,18.29; e. ephubristos, licentious, 6,15; e. eugenês, noble love, 84,7; e. genesiourgos, generative love, 59,10; e. hubristês, hubristic love, 76,11.18; e. hupsêloteros, loftier love, 83,29; e. kheiristos, worst kind of love, 76,5; e. koinoteros, love of the more common kind, 55,30; e. kosmios, decorous love, 6,13; 45,9; 46,19; 54,1.29; 58,9; 84,7; e. logikos, rational love, 57,22; e. mesos, intermediate love, 45,23; 46,18; middle-­level love, 76,7; e. pathêtikos, impassioned love, 57,21; e. prôtos, highest love, 88,11; e. psukhikos, psychic love, 45,6.8.23; 46,13; e. sôphrôn, temperate love, 63,18; e. sôphronikos, chaste love, 45,6; 46,19; e. sôstikos, love that saves, 53,29; e. theios, divine love, 6,13; 12,2–3; 23,17; 35,12; 51,25; 67,6; 68,2.11; 77,6; 82,11; 85,21; 107,6 erôtan, say, 49,16 erôtikos, a lover, 40,23; about / of love, 22,23; 23,3–4; 85,16; amorous, 3,23; erotic, 5,17; 6,21; 9,2, etc.; erôtokôtatos,

Greek–English Index very much a man of love, 93,2; hê erôtikê, art of love, 45,30; 83,9; ta erôtika, love, 22,25; 23,2 erôtikôs, erotically, 51,11; e. ekhein, be consumed with desire, 26,15; e. exêphthai, have an erotic attachment, 97,4 errômenôs, in a strengthened way, 3,22.24; powerfully, 57,6; vehemently, 57,12.20; 61,3 errômenos, powerful, 55,13.20; strengthened, 57,15 eskhatos, final, 112,29; last, 110,15; 117,10; 118,16; lowest, 28,4; 34,15; 74,26; 86,18; 88,11; 117,7; hôs en eskhatois, bringing up the rear, 106,20 eskhatôs, uttermost, 78,30 eskhêmatismenôs, artificially, 53,16 êthikos, ethical, 11,21; 30,15.25; 58,17; êthikê, ethics, 90,5; êthikê philosophia, moral philosophy, 79,3 êthikôs, from the ethical point of view, 16,24 etumologein, explain the derivation of (a name), 57,24 eudaimonein, be happy, 107,5 eudaimonia, happiness, 101,9; 106,31 euergesia, benefit, 18,14; service, 1,5 euergetein, benefit, 1,7; 51,4; 98,26 eukhê, prayer, 8,23; 52,2.7; 53,16; 55,15 eukhesthai, address a prayer, 8,23; make a vow, 48,14; pray, 6,19; 52,30 eukhôlê, shout of triumph, 17,19 eukrasia, favourable condition, 90,8 eulabeia, caution, 75,21 eulabeisthai, take care, 76,2 eulabês, careful, 76,15 eulabôs, out of reverence, 28,5 eumetabolos, readily changing, 64,12 eumetadotos, giving of oneself, 71,28 eupathôs ekhein, be susceptible, 58,34; 103,9 euphêmia, reverence, 86,22 euphrainein, enjoy self, 60,12 euphrosunê, delight, 34,17; good cheer, 41,16 euphrosunos, source of joy, 62,5; to euphrosunon, cheerfulness, 60,11 euplastos, malleable, 103,8

293

euroia, ease, 101,8; fluency, 58,18; 59,26 eutaktos, well-­ordered, 54,3 euthuphoreisthai, be on a straight course, 22,15 eutukhês, fortunate, 33,4 eutukhia, good fortune, 105,21 exairein, remove, 67,24; exêirêmenos, chosen, 74,5; transcendent, 70,23; 121,15 exartasthai, depend, 103,14; to exartêmenon, attachment, 78,29 exêgeisthai, explain, 98,25; interpret, 52,31 exêgêsis, interpretation, 14,7; 82,12 exêirêmenôs, transcendently, 101,16 exetasis, examination, 20,15; 29,18; 43,8; scrutiny, 10,20; 34,31; 38,11; 113,21 exetazein, distinguish, 7,4; examine, 84,20; scrutinise, 113,20 exisazein, be of the same kind as, 24,25; be coextensive, 118,20 existasthai, abandon, 15,23; depart from, 77,21; become separated, 63,7; go out of one’s mind, 87,25 gêinos, earthy, 86,15 genealogein, provide a genealogy, 54,31; 55,2 genesiourgos, generative, 59,10 genesis, coming to be, 14,16; generation, 1,6; 6,8; 20,5, etc.; source, 17,8 genetê, birth, 55,34; 80,3 genêtos, generated, 69,13; 82,19; 121,5; 122,12–13.18; 123,4 genikos, generic, 56,21; to genikôtaton, the highest genus, 95,26 gennan, beget, 111,14; generate, 89,9; 121,36 gennêtikos, that which generates, 34,9; 118,3 genos, family, 101,5.19.25.27.30; 102,11; genus, 3,19; 55,3–4.6.9.18.22–4; 70,11; 72,26.29; 95,26; kind, 70,13; kind of family, 101,16.21; race, 1,5; 10,30; 62,15.17; tribe, 92,20 geôdês, earthly, 69,14; earthy, 50,6 geômetrikos, geometric, 100,30 gê, earth, 26,1; 31,3.5.7.13; 32,19; 34,14; 90,25; 110,5; land, 102,26; peri gên, terrestrial, 33,7

294

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gnôsis, knowledge, 15,12; 28,12.14.19; 46,25; 72,28; 73,1; 75,8; realisation, 16,29; understanding, 46,24; way of knowing, 73,8 gnôstikos, cognitive, 21,5; 45,31; 73,7.14; perceptive, 73,3 gonimos, procreative, 31,12; productive, 31,5.7 gumnazein, develop, 10,27; exercise, 19,11; 26,19 hairein, apprehend, 93,23; grasp, 89,7; haireisthai, choose, 6,9; 15,27; 18,9; 36,22; 70,25; 71,5; 74,7.16; 90,31; 99,5; 106,6; like to do, 25,11; make a choice, 70,33; prefer, 61,15 hairesis, choice, 70,25 hairetos, choice-­worthy, 47,20–1; 48,3; preferable, 25,6 hamartanein, commit a sin, 74,17; commit an error, 78,2; do wrong, 79,31; 102,5; err, 77,24; 78,16; get wrong, 5,12; go wrong, 77,31; make a mistake, 4,27; sin, 51,24; 72,6; 74,22; 75,29 hamartêma, error, 77,27; 78,19; 79,20.23; 83,26; sin, 72,10; 76,22; 101,33 hamartia, error, 78,15.22 hamartôlos, sinful, 74,9 haplotês, simplicity, 68,22.24 haplous, simple, 5,15; 8,1; 34,3; 36,2; 49,3; 86,20; 89,6; 93,21.23; 116,30; single, 28,9; straightforward, 27,19; univocal, 87,20.26–7; 88,2 harmonia, harmony, 52,11; 73,19; 82,3; 83,21; 93,32; 95,8; 103,28; musical interval, 95,14 hêdonê, charm, 62,27; pleasure, 6,14; 55,8; 56,19; 57,10; 62,21 hêgeisthai, believe, 10,28; consider, 36,2; guide, 74,3; hold, 6,1; think, 36,17; 39,26; 42,27; 69,30 hêgemôn, guide, 6,13; leader, 6,4; 106,1.18 heirmos, train of thought, 2,12 hêliakos, of the sun, 47,9 hêlikiôtês, peer, 37,15 helikoeidês, spiral, 22,9.13 hêlios, sun, 32,5; 69,17; 73,2.17; 90,24–5; 111,14; 112,15.19; 115,13; 116,26; 121,22; h. noêtos, intelligible sun, 32,7

hêmiolios, a half, 95,15 heniaion, that which is unified, 32,13; unity, 95,4 heniaiôs, as a single entity, 42,20; in unity, 95,5; 96,14; unitarily, 113,14 henikôtatos, most unified, 88,27; 95,28 henizein, give unity to, 88,30; unify, 68,22; 89,3 hênômenôs, as a unity, 42,19; in a unified manner, 93,20; 107,24 henôsis, union, 15,29–30; 93,20; unity, 43,20; 93,6 henoun, be one with, 112,13; 114,17; be unified, 49,4; 94,12; unite, 66,22; 89,3.5; 93,18; 94,17; to hênômenon, coherence, 38,6; that which is unified, 85,27 hepesthai, adhere to, 69,3; follow, 6,4; 56,11; 78,19; 79,11.16; 82,13; 85,6; 101,21; 106,2.18; en tois hepomenois, below, 109,29 hêrôikos, heroic, 106,18 hêrôinê, heroine, 80,9 hêrôissa, heroine, 59,7 hêrôs, hero, 80,5–6.13.20 hestian, regale, 19,16 hêsukhia, quiet, 20,20.22 hetaira, whore, 62,6; 63,11 hetairêsis, prostitution, 40,23 hetairos, companion, 19,2–3.5; 52,27; fellow student, 96,24 heterokinêtos, externally-­moved, 71,35; other-­moved, 110,11–14.29.33; 111,2.21.28; 112,11; 113,30.32; 114,2.5.9.11–13.15.22; 115,20–2.28; 116,2.4–5.9.18.22.28–9; 117,33; 120,23 heterotês, otherness, 63,2 hexis, condition, 22,14; 51,10.22; disposition, 55,13.21; 81,14.23; faculty, 21,11; state, 27,7; system, 102,3 hidruein, build, 102,25; establish, 32,2 hiereia, priestess, 30,17; 98,15.26 hiereus, priest, 104,23 hieros, sacred, 23,15; to hieron, sacrificial rite, 40,19; sanctuary, 32,2.4–5.8.11.13 hierourgia, sacrifice, 79,33 histanai (transitive forms), set up, 3,2; (intransitive forms), come to a stop, 107,30; 112,9; 120,20; 122,29;

Greek–English Index historein, recount, 52,17; relate, 101,31; report, 19,22; ta historoumena, accounts, 98,1 historia, account, 31,1; 80,2; historical event, 32,18; history, 30,15; observation, 100,11.14.16.19; story, 81,24; apo tês historias, anecdotal, 52,16; para tên historian, contrary to historical fact, 38,12; 40,10.13; to (apo) tês historias, the historical facts, 19,21; 48,12 holoklêros, perfect, 96,12.14; whole, 93,33; 94,2; 98,6; 101,6 holos, entire, 101,5; to holon, a whole, 30,15.27 holosphuros, beaten, 48,16 holotês, wholeness, 94,21; 98,4 homilein, be in company, 62,13 homilia, company, 62,10; exchange, 18,12; eis homilian, [paraphrase used], 62,11 homoiôsis, becoming like, 52,7; 106,32 homoiotês, likeness, 63,1; resemblance, 47,16; 50,13; 117,12 homoioun, become like, 106,32; 107,5 homonoein, be in accord, 56,8; be harmonious, 56,17 homostoikhos, of the same rank, 76,20 horan, see, 11,1; 33,25; 61,30; 62,12; 69,15; 73,22; 76,8; 93,11; 94,13; 97,8; 101,26; 102,1; 106,33 horismos, definition, 54,11–12.22.25; 55,5.24; 57,8; 58,3.13.15; 59,14; 60,3; 61,2; 95,24 horistikos, that which defines, 17,26; hê horistikê, definition, 57,33; 95,23 horizein, characterise, 41,1; construct a definition, 54,30; define, 3,18; 5,24.26; 35,20; 54,9–10.13.15.28; 56,22; 57,22.27.29; ho horizôn, horizon, 69,20 horkos, oath, 50,13.15; 64,8.12 horman, be eager, 61,4; 69,31; prompt, 57,9; rush, 54,23; start out, 16,21 hormê, drive, 16,11; eagerness, 69,33; impulse, 23,27; outset, 52,3 hosiotês, piety, 72,12 hubris, lust, 3,25; 10,24; 56,27.30.32; 57,5.29; 58,10; lustfulness, 56,20; hubrei, lewd, 53,30 hubristês, lustful, 64,19; 76,10.18; wanton man, 41,4

295

hubristos, insolent, 24,18.20 hubrizein, insult, 80,9 hudation, water, 29,29 hudôr, water, 31,3; 34,13.19–21.27; 59,9; 71,1 hudra, hydra, 57,2 hugeia, health, 16,22; 65,6; 84,23 hugiainein, be sound, 18,9; remain healthy, 89,31 hugiansis, getting well, 16,23 hugieia, health, 84,22 hugiês, sound, 77,9.11.13; 96,12; 98,5; 102,33; well, 7,28 hugros, wet, 61,29.31; 75,1; to hugron, fluidity, 59,10; the moist [element], 84,11 hulê, matter, 6,15; 17,4–5.25–6.29; 27,2; 34,30; 50,12.26–7; 63,4.7–8; 82,19.22.24; 83,1–2; 91,4; 108,32; material, 20,18 hulikos, material, 17,10; 32,18; 63,9; 90,10.12; 112,6; to hulikon, material aspect, 1,11; 8,27 humnein, celebrate, 9,29–30; 12,6; 83,30; 103,30; hymn, 5,1; 103,3 humnos, hymn, 45,34; 58,5; 59,16 hupallêlos, subaltern, 95,26 huparkhein, apply, 24,15; be, 12,15; 53,10; 71,28; be a feature of, 121,15; be a property of, 119,32; be characteristic, 50,7; be present, 29,26; 119,24.27; hold sway, 34,17; huparkhôn, actual, 39,3; kath’ hauta huparkhonta, per se properties, 58,14.15; 60,2.5; 108,15.27 huperbainein, mount above, 69,10 huperekhein, be superior to, 61,23; excel, 119,10; rise above, 29,23; 30,1; surpass, 81,27 huperidruein, place over, 70,14; rise superior to something, 69,10 huperkeimenos, higher, 44,12; ta huperkeimena, things above, 9,22 huperkosmios, supramundane, 91,1 huperokhê, superiority, 27,17 huperouranios, beyond the heavens, 9,29; 12,6.12; 85,20; 106,4 huperousios, above being, 88,30; 111,23 huperphronein, spurn, 51,16 huperphuôs, abnormally, 89,28; supernaturally, 42,6

296

Greek–English Index

huperplêres, to, overflowing plenitude, 120,16 huperteros, above, 20,6.13; 77,8; higher, 15,8.18; 29,15; 30,24; 44,18; 62,24; 68,21; 70,3; 83,34; 85,4; 87,21; 96,30; 103,28; superior, 76,13; 81,23.26.29; 82,14.26; 100,23.25; 111,28 hupheimenôs, in a manner that is inferior, 42,12 huphienai; hupheimenos, inferior, 51,10; 59,2.4; 76,12; 81,29 huphistanai (transitive forms), cause to exist, 89,8.10; submit to, 98,1; (intransitive forms), exist, 88,32; 89,1.6; 110,16; have existence, 89,2 hupodekhesthai; ho hupodekhomenos, recipient, 94,18 hupodokhê, reception, 59,1.3; 103,9 hupoduein, imitate, 104,22; hupoduomenos, imitative, 104,28 hupokeisthai, be in question, 11,12.16; ex hypothesi, 122,10; ho hupokeimenos, a patient, 19,5; to hupokeimenon, subject matter, 21,14; substrate, 110,31; 116,19; 119,8; ta hupokeimena, surroundings, 22,10 hupomimnêiskein, deal with, 120,9; draw attention to, 113,10; 114,30; remind, 7,19; 38,16 hupomnêsis, aide-­mémoire, 8,8 hupopherein, carry down, 6,8.15; decline, 93,31 huposelênos, sublunary, 90,20.22 hupostasis, mode of being, 119,11; hupostasin ekhein, belong by nature, 59,7 hupostrephein, return, 78,14; revert, 49,25; turn back, 78,8.12 hupothesis, hypothesis, 24,7.9.16; 35,11; 38,12; 64,17.22; 117,22.24–5.27.29; situation, 31,20; subject, 11,6; 28,3; theme, 1,11; 3,14.16; kath’ hupothesin, ex hypothesi, 118,18 hupothetikos, hypothetical, 114,11 hupourgikos, subordinate, 52,6 hupourgos, assistant, 34,21; 98,21 hupsêlos, elevated, 14,5; exalted, 17,27; high, 31,10; 34,15; lofty, 11,19; 18,29; 23,11; 29,17; 70,3; 83,29; sublime, 68,6; tall, 30,6; ta hupsêla, high regions, 31,12

iama, remedy, 79,18 iasis, healing, 102,16 iasthai, cure, 14,21; heal, 8,4; 79,14–15.22; 80,17; 81,7.18; remedy, 79,23; 102,10; treat, 81,21 iatrikos, healer, 19,4; hê iatrikê, medicine, 7,24; 97,17; 102,1 iatros, doctor, 7,25; 19,3; 23,20.22; 26,16; 40,3; 67,23; 79,17; 101,28; physician, 19,7 idea, form, 9,28 idiôma, particular character, 109,8; i. psukhikon, psychic mode, 51,12; 66,25; 93,26 idios, own, 17,15 idiôs, specifically, 108,11 idiôtês, layman, 26,26; 27,1 idiotês, one’s individual nature, 44,11.15; one’s normal manner, 30,23 ikhnos, trace, 28,2; 42,24; 108,10 ilus, mud, 82,19 indalma, image, 42,25; 88,29; reflection, 89,19 kakergetis, one that does evil, 34,1 kakia, evil, 109,1 kakos, bad, 38,3; 42,15; 62,6; evil, 62,9.15; 88,1; pernicious, 60,13; 61,18; to kakon, an evil, 42,16; 50,12; 60,29; 63,14; 74,10; 79,28; 87,27; 88,1.3; 98,28; 101,4.22; 102,4.13; bad point, 4,17.20.22; 67,20; bad thing, 62,3.5.16; 97,34; the bad, 42,14; en kakôi einai, be in a bad way, 36,11 kakôs, badly, 6,25; 36,19; 39,14.17; 48,2; 75,17; incorrectly, 37,11; kakôs eipein, speak ill of, 5,3; kakôs khrômenos, making bad use of, 48,6 kakozôia, evil way of life, 64,13 kalliepeia, beauty of language, 19,22; fine language, 50,10 kallonê, beauty, 45,32 kallopoios, that which produces beauty, 18,14 kallos, beauty, 3,25; 6,10; 16,9.15; 34,9; 44,4; 46,1; 47,12; 52,11; 57,4.13; 61,3; 83,1.17; 86,14; 119,10; k. aisthêton, sensible beauty, 14,16; 27,13.23.27; 42,6; 48,24.26; 66,29; 81,9–10.14.20.33;

Greek–English Index 82,3.7.9; 83,15.27; 87,10; 96,22; k. akhrômaton, beauty without colour, 44,6; k. alêthinon, true beauty, 81,10; k. anaphes, intangible beauty, 44,6; k. aphanes, unseen beauty, 82,4; k. aphraston, unutterable beauty, 95,2; k. asaphes, invisible beauty, 44,6; k. askhêmatiston, beauty without shape, 44,6; k. asômaton, incorporeal beauty, 44,6; k. aüloteron, less material beauty, 29,15; k. eikonikon, imaged beauty, 47,16; k. emphanes, visible beauty, 47,9.16; 48,22; k. enulon, enmattered beauty, 66,25; 83,15; k. exô phainomenon, externally manifested beauty, 87,10; k. exô prophainomenon, externally manifested beauty, 82,3; k. huperteron, higher beauty, 29,15; k. meson, intermediate beauty, 83,28; k. noêton, intelligible beauty, 13,2; 20,21; 27,14.18; 44,6; 47,16; 48,24; 81,16.20.33; 82,4–5.30–1; 83,19.30; 85,19; 86,21.23; 94,13; 105,5.20; 106,3.13.33; 107,4.10; k. phainomenon, phenomenal beauty, 11,9; 12,18; 14,17; 15,5; 18,27; 19,6; 20,5.16; 23,5; 27,12.17.21; 29,23; 42,28; 43,28; 83,27; 85,24; 86,12; visible beauty, 51,14; k. phusikon, physical beauty, 30,4; k. prôton, primary beauty, 81,11.15; k. psukhikon, beauty of the soul, 12,31; 13,4; 68,16; 69,31; psychic beauty, 27,18; 77,15; 85,17.26; 96,22; k. sômatikon, bodily beauty, 55,8; 57,6.10.16.20; k. suntheton, composite beauty, 66,29; k. theion, divine beauty, 106,18; to en aisthêtois k., the beauty in sensible things, 29,15; to en hulêi k., the beauty in matter, 27,2; to en logois k., the beauty in speeches, 29,15; to en psukhêi k., the beauty that is in the soul, 86,1.7; to en sarki k., beauty in flesh, 27,23; to enthade k., the beauty here below, 6,10; to exô k., external beauty, 85,24; to ontôs k., true beauty, 16,26; to ontôs on k., really real beauty, 81,15; 82,1; beauty that really is, 83,16 kallunein, make beautiful, 47,14 kalos, beautiful, 2,21; 14,13; 41,1; 42,26; 45,28.32–3; 51,1; 60,8; 86,4.7; 100,2;

297

fine, 21,30; 50,11; 66,27; good looking, 40,20; kalliôn, better, 48,22; kallistos, best, 2,6; to kalon, beauty, 10,8; 12,17; 13,2.26; 14,9; 16,11; 42,19.24.26; 46,1; 50,3; 85,16; 86,21; 100,3; beautiful thing, 12,11; 18,13; 61,11; 76,30; 86,19; the beautiful, 13,20; 14,12; 45,30.32; 60,7.10.21; fine thing, 32,11; 41,10; the good, 60,15; 61,15; what is beautiful, 77,8; 100,3; auto to k., the beautiful itself, 13,3; k. aüloteron, more immaterial beauty, 42,7; k. bebaion, steadfast beauty, 86,19; k. enulon, material beautiful thing, 26,25; k. haplous, simple beauty, 86,19; k. katharôteron, purer beauty, 42,7; k. noeron, intellective beauty, 11,10; 14,1; k. noêton, intelligible beauty, 86,21; k. phainomenon, phenomenal beauty, 13,31; 16,5; 60,18; 68,15; phenomenal beautiful thing, 26,25; 27,24; k. poikilon, elaborate beauty, 49,2; k. psukhikon, psychic beauty, 11,10; 14,1; to ektos k., external beauty, 13,31; to en aisthêsei k., beauty in the sensible realm, 14,15; 29,13; to en têi genesei k., beauty in the realm of generation, 58,28; to en têi phusei k., the beauty in nature, 42,7; to en tois logois k., the beauty / beautiful in speeches, 12,21.26.31; 13,5.31; 42,7; the beauty in words, 27,4; to exô k., external beauty, 58,28; to ontôs on k., really real beauty, 86,19; to prôton k., the primary beauty, 10,3; 12,8.11; 86,17.19; to têide k., beautiful thing here below, 107,12 kampsis, bending, 113,4 kanôn, rule, 24,33 katadeesteros, inferior, 59,2; 63,3.5; 66,29; 76,12.21.24; 77,8; 81,26.30; 84,1; 87,23; 96,31; 97,7–8; 103,28; 108,8; 111,27; 116,7–8.23; 119,6 katagôgos, that which drags down, 23,23 katakosmein, deck out, 50,27; discipline, 54,2; regulate, 62,18; set in order, 45,12; 46,20; 47,13 katakosmêsis, ordering, 47,11 katakratein, master, 78,18; outdo, 104,4; prevail over, 83,2

298

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katalambanein, possess, 30,23 katalampein, illuminate, 89,17 katalêgein, finish, 2,10 katapempein, send down, 1,6 katapharmakeuein, bewitch, 76,26 kataskeuazein, establish, 105,34; 106,29; 118,5; 120,9.11.20; prove, 99,14; 107,8 kataspan, pull, 18,30 katastasis, condition, 14,22; 17,1 katastellein, keep in check, 32,4; order, 94,1; restrain, 76,30 katatattein, give over to, 10,31 kataugazein, be a source of illumination, 112,16 katêgorein, bring a charge against, 10,10; predicate, 56,21; 96,1; 113,13 katêgoria, condemnation, 53,32 katekhein, bind, 62,19; clutch, 1,23; dwell in, 42,26; grip, 49,11.13; 63,13; 92,11; hold in check, 6,12; inspire, 58,29; keep, 31,19; know, 68,5; possess, 30,21; 88,13; 90,1–2; 93,5; 103,8; take hold of, 43,20 kateuthunein, guide, 70,14.22; keep on the right path, 122,6 katexanistanai, rise free from, 83,3 kathairein, purify, 50,6; 70,31; 78,10; 79,30.33; 85,32–3; 86,1.6; wash off, 78,33 katharmos, purification, 78,22.26–8.30; 79,2–3.6; 102,29 katharos, pure, 20,10; 29,5; 33,15; 42,7; 44,1; 64,15; 69,15; 73,5.24; 74,11; 93,25; 102,32 katharôs, purely, 113,4 katharsion, to, expiation, 4,28; 5,1; purificatory rite, 79,32 katharsis, cleansing, 79,28; purification, 51,23; 101,34 kathartikos, cathartic, 85,23; purger, 19,4; purificatory, 11,21; 34,2; 58,27; purifying, 51,5 kathelkein, drag down, 18,30; 27,21; 63,4 kathidruein, dedicate, 92,16 kathodos, descent, 6,3; 92,9; 93,16 katholou, from a general perspective, 21,16; in general, 27,1; universal, 32,9; 67,27; 85,10; 100,13 katokhos, possessed, 65,18; 66,16.22; 103,7 katokôkhê, being inspired, 59,31; possession, 30,24; 88,16; 91,23; 92,13; 94,7; 103,8

katorthôma, achievement, 96,7 katorthoun, be successful, 97,5; succeed, 83,11; successfully accomplish, 9,17 kêdemôn, protector, 13,30; guardian, 15,24 kêdemonia, guardianship, 70,29 kekrummenos, concealed, 42,17; secret, 69,3; to k., concealment, 42,9 kêlein, beguile, 52,24; 76,27.31 kêlêsis, bewitchment, 7,17 kenôma, void, 117,8 kestos, girdle, 34,10 kharaktêr, style, 11,14; symbol, 91,5; 97,22 kharisteon, should gratify, 12,3; 24,14; 40,12; 53,25; 54,27 kharizein, gratify, 1,17.21; 3,8; 11,29; 12,1; 23,3; 24,7–8.10.12.19.25–6.29–30.32; 25,4.7.9–10; 37,19; 39,16; 53,27.30; 64,16.21.23–4; 67,10; 87,12.13.15; kekharismenos, pleasing, 7,7; to kharizesthai, gratification, 25,13.15; 26,9; 40,10.11 khaskein, be agape, 52,10 kheiristos, worst, 76,5 kheirôn, inferior, 15,14; 29,4; 63,4; 88,2; 111,25; 118,1; 119,9; worse, 12,24–5.28; 15,10; 16,4; 61,5; 63,6 kheirôsis, winning over, 11,15 kheiroun, win over, 11,4 khorêgein, supply, 111,20 khorêgos, bestower, 47,12; purveyor, 10,25 khoreia, dance, 105,6 khrêmatizein, give out responses, 91,8 khrêsmôidein, speak prophetically, 92,21 khrêsmos, response (oracular), 80,17; 98,23 khronos, period, 4,2; 26,24; 63,13.15; 69,22; time, 2,11; 4,4; 18,26; 45,18.22.24–6; 46,25; 63,15; 75,11.14; 79,17; 81,2; 89,16; 96,15; 97,21; 99,13; 102,13; 115,22–3; 116,13–14.16; 118,28; en akarei khronôi, in a flash, 89,23; hoi khronoi, chronology, 2,8; kata khronon, temporally, 111,11 khthonios, chthonic, 86,16 kinein, activate, 18,14; 66,18; 89,21; arouse, 90,3; be in motion, 119,23; call into question, 22,17; inspire, 93,1; move (transitive or intransitive), 16,19–20; 34,6; 69,21–2; 96,6; 109,34; 110,13–15; 111,5; 112,10–11.14.20; 114,15–16;

Greek–English Index 115,31–3; 116,5.9–10.17; 117,32; 119,2.18–19.25; 120,1.21; 121,18.29; stimulate, 90,7; to kineisthai, being moved, 121,28; movement, 111,20; 113,4; 117,20; to kinoun, mover, 110,17– 18; 115,29–30.32; 116,3; to kinoumenon, that which is in motion, 47,11; the moved, 115,30; that which is moved, 120,24; aph’ heautês kinoumenê, on its own initiative, 75,26; aph’ heautou kineisthai, move by itself, 114,32; ex autou kineisthai, move by itself, 111,4; 114,31; huph’ heterou kinoumenon, moved by something else, 111,19; hup’ allou kinoumenon, moved by another thing, 113,32; 114,8 kinêma, motion, 9,2.21 kinêsis, change, 110,21; motion, 14,15.17.19; 16,16.18, etc.; movement, 16,23–4 kinêtikos, moving, 112,11; to kinêtikon, cause of motion, 116,11–12.15; source of motion, 112,12; 114,15; 116,5 klêros, allotment, 33,26; allotted area, 62,20; lot, 74,7.13 klêroun, allocate, 101,27 koilos, empty, 20,14; 29,18; 66,29; hollow, 18,30; shallow, 35,1.10.13; superficial, 77,24; 78,11; 79,27; 84,1 koinônein, display commonality, 85,29; share, 94,18; ho koinônôn, partner, 9,4 koinônia, affinity, 52,13; 99,9; 106,23; commonality, 101,20; communion, 73,28; contact, 36,11; interconnection, 92,14 koinôphelês, general benefit, 24,9 kôluein, bar from, 72,10; hinder, 71,26; hold back, 71,25.30; prevent, 4,5; 41,7; 96,27; 117,17; 122,8 kôlutikos, preventive, 72,8 kômikos, comic dramatist, 63,21 kômôidein, make fun of, 10,16 kômôidia, comedy, 19,25 kômôidiopoios, writer of comedies, 49,6.16 korikos, son of Kore, 59,16 korubantismos, Corybantic frenzy, 91,26 kosmein, arrange, 119,7; honour, 103,26; order well, 33,27 kosmêtikos, that which orders, 34,9

299

kosmios, decorous, 45,10; 46,19; 54,1.3.29; 58,9; 84,7; to kosmion, propriety, 6,13 kosmos, cosmos, 13,19; 31,9; 47,9; 48,24–5; 62,18; 72,24; 91,7; 94,22–3.26; 107,28; k. aisthêtos, sensible cosmos, 43,3.5; 47,14; 48,23; 94,24; k. noêtos, intelligible cosmos, 35,4; 48,29 krasis, constitution, 90,8 kratein, be in control, 36,8; be superior, 97,20; come to power, 48,16; control, 70,17; dominate, 57,4; get the upper hand, 56,30; govern, 70,21; have control, 70,19; hold sway, 56,13; overcome, 19,19; 56,23; 57,10.12; 82,25; prevail, 61,5; 90,16 kratos, regime, 56,15 kreittôn, better, 9,3; 15,7.10.18; 18,30; 56,17; 61,5; 112,26; 115,3–4; 118,8; higher, 72,25.29; more powerful, 62,25; stronger, 39,23; 61,17; superior, 15,12; 46,23–4; 61,19; 63,4; 87,21; 88,4.6.21; 97,12; 98,9.29; 99,15; 111,25; 116,6– 7.23; 117,35; 119,5.7 krinein, judge, 84,30; rate, 37,11 krisis, decision, 23,29; judgement, 7,21; 23,27.29; 26,7; 97,19; eis krisin, to judge, 23,21 kruphios, hidden, 16,8 kruptos, hidden, 23,12; secret, 23,14 ktêma, possession, 61,31 kubernan, govern, 70,22 kubernêtês, pilot, 10,2 kuklikos, circular, 22,8–9; 113,3 kuklos, circle, 22,11; 94,4; 110,14.18.21; 113,3 lampros, clear, 53,15; limpid, 73,5; to l., brightness, 19,20 lamprunein, illuminate, 47,15 lanthanein, elude, 44,14 lêgein, draw by lot, 74,16; perish, 123,3 lêmê, discharge in the eye, 67,15.24; 69,14 lêmma, premiss, 105,26.28; 109,29 lêthê, forgetfulness, 8,8.13; forgetting, 28,12; neglect, 4,12 lêxis, allotted realm, 31,6; assigned sphere, 32,4.8; 90,22–3.29 lexis, diction, 10,17; language, 18,7; 22,5; phrase, 14,12; sentence, 64,27; style,

300

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11,11; vocabulary, 38,27; word, 38,26; wording, 11,8 lithos, stone, 71,20; 104,25; 115,31 logikos, argument-­oriented, 105,28; discursive, 11,23; 23,19; logical, 55,25; 58,13; 95,22; of a dialectical nature, 106,8; rational, 29,6; 30,2; 34,3; 35,6; 50,23; 55,31–2; 56,1; 57,22; 61,11; 72,1; 75,24; 76,29; 79,4; 82,23; 88,23.31; 106,21; 108,6–7.12–13; 119,29–30.34 logikôs, from a logical perspective, 16,18; in a logical fashion, 113,21 logion, oracle, 28,18 logismos, discursive argument, 69,12; reason, 36,8; reasoning, 93,22.25 logos, account, 4,16; 22,27; 53,8–9; 67,8.19; 69,29; 87,5.11; 106,14; argument, 5,29; 10,20; 54,24, etc.; concept, 21,27.31; 45,11; 46,14; 54,19.21; 66,28; 67,1.3.34; 68,1–2.6; 69,26; 70,2; 85,10.21; 97,15; conversation, 4,6; dialogue, 13,6; discourse, 1,16; 2,5.18; 3,4; 4,1; 5,25; 8,2.5.18; 9,16; 11,23; 12,15–16; 13,23.26; 23,22; 24,3; 77,2; 84,13; 105,10; discussion, 6,26; 120,11; language, 11,17.19; 14,2; law, 17,15; narrative, 31,16; observation, 35,17; principle, 101,20; 115,1; protestation, 4,14; rational principle, 17,7; rationale, 72,24; reason, 17,21; 22,8; 23,28, etc.; reasoning, 21,9; saying, 62,29; speech, 1,22; 2,1–2; 3,6.14, etc.; statement, 5,10; 7,23; 12,10; 22,18; 27,20; 68,31; 84,2; 90,23; 120,30.32; status, 17,10.25; 112,7; subject, 73,2; tale, 30,27; 45,18; topic, 17,23; utterance, 27,28; word, 2,9; 3,1.12; 8,23, etc.; work, 104,16; ho exô rheôn logos, the spoken word, 19,24; krisis logou, rational judgement, 23,27; logon ekhein, be reasonable, 101,9; have plausibility, 72,12; make sense, 71,33; logon poiein, say things, 62,7; deal with a subject, 13,21; debate, 25,1; discourse, 10,13; speak, 106,21; talk, 105,6; 106,21; 107,15; l. pros logon, verbal exchange, 59,28; peri hou ho l., what is under discussion, 5,13; what it is about, 5,11; tôi logôi, notionally, 117,1; ton logon legein, put something, 25,27 luein, answer, 37,14

maieuesthai, practise midwifery, 22,25 maieutikê, midwifery, 22,25 mainesthai, be mad, 1,17; 5,14.25; 24,27; 48,8; 87,15.19.25; 104,5; run amok, 89,29 mania, madness, 5,15–16.22; 87,20.26, etc.; m. erôtikê, erotic madness, 5,16; 88,16; 92,1; 105,10; m. mantikê, mantic madness, 5,16.19; 88,17; 92,11.15.17.19; 94,30; 95,27; 96,14.31; 98,10; 101,3; 105,2; m. mousikê, Muse-­engendered madness, 88,16; 94,28; 103,2; 105,2; m. poiêtikê, poetic madness, 5,16; 103,17.27; m. telestikê, telestic madness, 5,17.19; 88,17; 92,11; 94,29; 96,10.29; 101,3; 105,2; m. theia, divine madness, 5,26 manikos, manic, 5,20; 99,21.23; 100,4 manteia, mantic, 100,23.25; 104,18 manteion, oracle, 80,17; 98,12.14.20; oracular shrine, 66,15; 92,17 manteuein, give oracles, 98,14.16.18–19.26 manthanein, discover, 42,3; learn, 16,10–11.15.30; 20,7; 31,20; 40,14; 45,25; 88,31; 110,25; understand, 119,20 mantikos, involved in the mysteries, 92,30; of the seer, 99,4; mantic, 5,16.19; 88,17; 92,11.15.17.19; 94,30; 95,27; 96,14.31; 98,10; 101,3; 103,15; 105,2; hê mantikê, art of prophecy, prophetic art, 75,9.11.21–2; 97,27; mantic, 5,21; 88,17; 99,20; 100,4.26; 103,19; mantikê theia, divine prophecy, 75,28; mantikê stokhastikê, divinatory mantic, 100,6; to mantikon, prophetic power, 75,22 mantis, prophet, 75,7.10; seer, 27,9; 92,18 mathêma, study, 7,20 mathêmatikê, mathematics, 90,5 mathêsis, instruction, 18,23; learning, 15,28; 28,14; 35,5; 46,24; 67,14 mathêtês, pupil, 1,22; 115,34–5; 116,1; student, 62,30 megalopsukhos, great-­souled, 20,25 meiôsis, diminution, 112,25 meletê, rehearsal, 8,14; training, 31,26 memerismenôs, dividedly, 42,19.30 merikos, fragmented, 83,34; individual, 54,32; 94,23; particular, 17,29; 21,20; 32,10; 34,1; 42,31; 67,30; 76,18; 98,2;

Greek–English Index 112,31; 118,31; 119,1.14; specialised, 74,6.9 merikôs, one part at a time, 94,6; as a part, 94,22 meris, particular region, 62,18 meristos, divided, 97,31 merizein, divide, 42,20 meros, part, 4,3.11; 5,16; 6,5; 10,4; 12,8.15; 46,15; 79,19; 80,12.14; 88,23; 89,20; 91,11; 93,30; 94,7.21.21.23–6.28–30; 96,9; 118,28; piece, 9,19; kata meros, detailed, 113,20; para meros, by turns, 91,11; to entos autou m., its inside, 64,5 mesôs, in a middling manner, 42,12 mesos, in the middle, 34,14; middle-­level, mid-­level, 45,23; 46,7.9.18; 66,25.28; 67,1.34; 76,7; 83,28; 85,21; 86,18; 88,11; 97,15; middle, 46,15; middling, 34,15; midway, 42,13; dia mesou, by means of, 22,2; meanwhile, 31,19; eis meson, in the middle, 64,1; en mesôi, in the middle, 65,25; en mesois, in the middle, 12,4; to m., intermediary, 85,4; mean, 21,6; 30,7; 110,30; middle, 46,15; middle part, 95,6 mesotês, intermediacy, 57,25; intermediate position, 13,24; mean, 110,27 metabainein, pass, 101,3 metaballein, change, 92,5; 100,20; 121,4; turn, 63,17 metabatikôs, step by step, 93,24 metabolê, change, 37,10 metadidonai, give, 43,20; 103,28; share, 120,14; 121,12 metagignôskein, repent, 102,5 metalambanein, partake, 94,16; participate, 65,7; to metalambanon, recipient, 73,16 metapherein, convert, 51,21; transfer, 30,15 metaphora, metaphor, 49,7 metekhein, have a share, 50,11; partake, 27,1; 32,6; 50,23; 58,25; 63,7; 70,2; 94,18; 117,1; participate, 42,14 metensômatôsis, transmigration, 6,3 methodos, method, 54,12; treatise, 552,6 metron, limit, 27,16; 66,13; 79,19; measure, 75,1.4–5; 81,20; verse, 103,3 mnêmoneuein, allude to, 91,24; mention, 91,21 moira, portion, 50,23; providence, 92,6

301

moirêgetês, guide of fate, 101,17.26 molunesthai, be polluted, 79,24; 81,12.17.21; undergo pollution, 79,10.13.15.30 molusmatôdês, polluted, 96,10 molusmos, pollution, 78,26–7.29.31–2.34; 79,1–2.5.9.11.21 monas, monad, 43,11; 95,4–5.10–11.19 monimos, unwavering, 55,21 monoeidês, uniform, 49,3 monoeidôs, only, 62,17.26 morion, part, 33,27; 55,12.17; 56,8; 70,4.8; 88,19–20; 89,32; 94,1; 116,20; 119,18 mousikos, Muse-­engendered, 88,17; 92,10.17–18.23–4; 93,32; 94,1.28; 95,23; 96,6; 103,2.15.19; 105,3; musical, 52,18.22; musician, 40,4; 83,20 muthologia, mythology, 78,15–17.19.21; 79,20.22 muthoplastês, creator of the story, 69,4; myth-­maker, 78,18 muthos, myth, 30,14.25; 32,16–17.21; 33,20; 34,6; 99,4; story, 8,9; 68,27–9.31; 69,1.3.5; tale, 52,24; 53,8 neotelês, newly initiated, 6,10 noein, apprehend, 21,7; grasp, 106,13.26; intelligise, 111,18; understand, 82,18; to noein, intellection, 111,17–18; 121,23; to nooumenon, meaning, 17,21 noêma, idea, 2,8.16; 3,12 noerôs, at the intellective level, 93,33; intellectively, 94,8 noeros, intellective, 11,10; 14,1; 20,9; 34,31; 35,6; 43,8; 46,10; 50,22; 66,27; 67,4; 69,11; 78,12; 88,25; 94,3–4; 121,24; 122,3; intelligent, 33,10; to noeron, intellection, 89,6; intellectual part, 34,30 noêsis, intellection, 15,12; 112,27–8.30–1; 113,4 noêtikos, intellectual, 111,17 noêtos, intellectual, 14,5; 32,9; intelligible, 10,4; 11,17; 13,2; 15,22; 16,8; 20,21; 27,12.14.17.22; 30,10; 32,7; 35,3–4; 44,1.6.20; 47,14.16; 48,24.29; 66,21; 81,16.20.33; 82,2.4–5.24.30–1; 83,3.19.30; 85,19; 86,21.23; 94,13; 96,23; 103,28; 105,5.20; 106,3.7.13.33;

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107,4.10; 112,29; 117,11; to noêton, the Intelligible, 6,12 nosansis, sickening, 16,23 nosein, be sick, 1,19; 3,7.8; 36,21; 38,9; 39,18.21–2; 60,33; 61,2; be sickness, 61,8; suffer from a disease, 8,17; ho nosôn, a sick person, 60,33 nosos, ailment, 101,28; disease, 61,4; 101,1; illness, 61,7.9.12; sickness, 16,23; 37,11; 61,9 nous, intellect, 6,10; 14,11; 21,6–7, etc.; intelligence, 64,13; mind, 15,15; 24,2–3; 26,5; 60,6; 68,25; noun ekhôn, in one’s right mind, 64,24 numpholêptos, Nymph-­possessed, 58,30; 59,6; 65,21; 91,24; possessed, 4,19 oikeioun, be on familiar terms with, 58,26; be suited to, 86,17 oikonomein, regulate, 23,28 oiônistikê, oionistic, 104,19; (transliterated), 100,22.26 oionoistikê, (transliterated), 100,16.18.20 oiônos, bird of prey, 100,9 oiônoskopia, divination by means of birds of prey, 100,8 okhêma, vehicle, 73,5.28–9; 74,1 on, to, a thing that has existence, 122,8; being, 10,22; 32,10; 96,1; 111,7.23; 121,6.25; existing thing, 110,25; reality, 16,13; that which has existence, 122,3; thing, 54,22; 91,30; 110,19; what there is, 93,20; to mê on, non-­being, not-­being, 10,22; 111,23.24 onkoun, extend, 116,32; 117,13 onoma, name, 3,20; 16,3; 19,18; 31,6; 43,11; 51,19; 55,1; 56,10.12.16.18.20–1; 57,7; 74,20.23; 76,15–16; 78,21; 79,29; 86,11–12; 98,17; 99,12.19–20.22–3; 100,2–3.25; 110,6; phrase, 2,7; term, 5,22; 84,21; 87,26; 100,15–16; 103,16.19; 105,21; word, 3,17; 10,23; 50,5; 59,15.23; 87,20; 100,1; 103,13 onomastikos, as a noun, 18,8 onomatothetês, name-­giver, 99,19 onomazein, name, 16,24; 55,31; 57,30; 82,20; specify, 16,17 ontôs, real, 1,13; true, 16,26; 83,3; truly, 17,1; ontôs ôn, really real, truly real,

16,6; 21,7; 32,27; 81,15; 82,1; 83,16; 86,19; 107,10 opados, attendant, 7,6; 90,24 ôpheleia, advantage, 9,4; 51,16; assistance, 29,12; benefit, 3,16; 9,11; 10,30; 20,14; 79,25; 105,14.17 ophelein, benefit, 22,28; 24,16.21; 50,14.17; 53,8; 65,4; 105,18; help, 19,14; profit, 68,7; succour, 102,9 ôphelimos, advantageous, 23,29; beneficial, 23,21.25 opsis, apparition, 73,22; organ of vision, 73,21; sight, 73,3; visage, 62,12; vision, 81,32 oregein, desire, 60,21; extend, 1,8.12 orektikê, appetitive power, 73,9 orektikôs ekhein, have appetition, 26,3 orexis, desire, 16,21; 35,21; 36,4 organikos, instrumental, 52,6 organon, instrument, 119,1.4; organ, 73,12.29 orthodoxastikos, holding correct opinions, 15,4 orthos, correct, 56,4; 67,19; standing upright, 35,11; upright, 79,30; para to orthon, wrongful, 47,4; to orthon, the right, 57,9 ouranios, celestial, 90,19; heavenly, 72,19; 73,9; 117,5.12; ta ourania, the heavens, 116,26 ouranos, heaven, 6,6; 90,10; 107,29; 110,5; 111,9.15; 116,22.25.27.29; 122,28; 123,8 ousia, being, 10,1; 11,17; 12,7; 14,6; 44,15; 46,21; 65,3; 76,19.21; 82,1; essence, 48,27; 54,15.22; 57,18; 67,26; 99,15.17; 110,17; 112,13; 113,13; 116,33; 117,3; 118,10; essential feature, 45,22; substance, 13,18.22; 55,12; 77,20; 89,4; 98,4; 117,21.23; 119,7; 121,5; thing, 5,12; en ousiâi, in reality 110,17; kat’ ousian, by its essential nature, 54,19; essentially, 45,11; of its essence, 115,24; of its nature, 74,3.5 ousiôdês, substantial, 119,11 paideuein, educate, 103,30; school, 96,8; 103,4 paideusis, education, 65,2.5 paideutikos, educative, 103,4; that which educates, 96,21

Greek–English Index paidia, game, 63,21; pastime, 8,7; plaything, 43,3.5 paidikon, boyfriend, 37,9; 65,16 paizein, be at play, 32,22; 43,9; make fun, 43,2 pakhutês, density, 24,4 palaios, ancient, 16,4; 29,21; 45,7.17–18; 73,9; 98,13; 99,19; 100,3.15.23; 101,32; 103,2.26.29; 108,7; old, 62,28 palingenesia, rebirth, 34,20.22; 59,18 palinôidia, palinode, 5,1.5.8; 6,19; 10,4; 13,2.9; 14,2; 35,11; 51,11.24; 58,7; 67,8; 68,12; 77,17; 78,24; 79,23; 80,24.26; 83,14.20.30; 84,16; 87,7; 105,24; 107,18 panolêptos, possessed by Pan, 91,25 panteleios, all-­complete, 94,24 pantelês, total, 50,18; 91,16 pantodapos, of every kind, 10,8; 12,17; 14,9; various, 121,1 paraballein, apply analogy, 97,9; approach, 79,33; compare, 75,9.11; 76,13; liken, 29,21; 75,21 paradeigma, example, 81,13 paradeigmatikos, archetypal, 73,24; paradigmatic, 112,4.22; 113,7.9 paradidonai, give, 13,16; 91,29; give an account of, 92,1; inform, 13,24; instruct in, 91,31; portray, 12,21; present, 15,4; 92,4; 98,9; 103,2; represent, 20,2; teach, 13,18; 88,17; tell about, 81,9; tell of, 91,27 paradoxos, incredible, 89,25; paradoxical, 24,7.9.11.13.16.24; ek paradoxou, contrary to expectation, 89,31 paragein, cite, 45,10; conduct, 77,22; create, 118,6.9; 120,34; 121,1; derive, 121,34; furnish with, 118,7; produce, 122,7 paraiteisthai, decline, 66,16.22; repudiate, 103,6 parapaidagôgein, reform, 9,3 parapempein, provide with, 21,31 paraphthora, corruption, 21,3 paraskeuazein, equip, 93,33; make ready, 91,8; prepare, 59,21; 71,32; provide with, 101,9; render, 94,2 pareisagein, introduce, 31,16 parekhein, provide for, 90,28 paremballein, add, 5,20; insert, 12,10 parerkhesthai, pass, 69,13; 96,16

303

paristanai, subject to, 38,11; present, 54,32 parorman, push, 26,13 pas, every, any, whole, all, passim; dia pasôn, octave, 95,16; to pan, the universe, 71,11; 83,22; 90,16; 118,14 paskhein, be afflicted, 5,7; be in a position, 43,7; be in a situation, 78,20; be in the grip of, 58,3.6.33; be overcome by, 65,20; fare, 91,15; go through, 39,8; have happen to one, 3,5; 54,18; suffer, 69,6; 79,14; 81,2; 101,15; ho paskhôn, the patient, 101,29 pathêtikos, affective, 29,5; impassioned, 57,21; involving a physical effect, 73,15; passive, 112,24 pathêtikôs, passively, 23,6; producing an effect, 73,20; with an impact, 73,18 pathos, affection, 72,27.29; 73,1; ailment, 7,27; 23,26; condition, 57,19; 102,1; emotion, 64,14; experience, 106,12.24; passion, 9,5; 23,12; 36,7–8; 41,2; 57,18.29; 58,8.11; property, 34,7; state, 10,24; p. akolaston, dissolute passion, 74,19; p. theion, divine passion, 58,2.6.8.33; divinely inspired fervour, 65,20; 66,7; pros p., for effect, 62,6 patris, homeland, 83,3; native land, 35,4; one’s country, 55,1 paula, end, 113,32; 114,1.8; 115,26.28 pêgê, source, 13,2; 109,17; 114,20.22; 115,14.17; 118,1; 120,1; 121,11–12.14 peira, experience, 100,14 peplasmenôs, as a subterfuge, 23,4 peplêthusmenos, having undergone pluralisation, 85,27; multiplicitous, 94,9; 96,18 periagein, bring around, 68,22; convert, 92,2; turn, 66,21; 82,1.3; 83,18; 85,26 periekhein, contain, 55,33; 67,8; 78,23; 95,17; 107,24; 108,17.20; 109,8.19; embrace, 113,14 periienai, revolve, 90,10 perikhoreuein, dance around, 86,21 periodos, circulation, 112,33; cycle, 83,6; 99,1; period, 83,8 periôpê, watching-­place, 66,32; 67,4; 69,11 periphora, circular motion, 112,25.33; revolution, 116,13

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peritithenai, ascribe, 72,19.24; 86,10; confer upon, 91,5 phaidros, bright, 86,12 phainesthai, seem, 25,2–3; 97,6; be revealed, 53,3; appear, 69,20; 93,3; be evident, 114,28; phainetai, clearly, 92,29; phainomenon kallos, phenomenal beauty, 11,9; 12,18; 14,17; 15,5; 18,27; 19,6; 20,4.17; 23,5; 27,12.17.21; 29,23; 42,28; 43,28; 83,27; 85,24; 86,12; visible beauty, 51,14; phainomenon kalon, phenomenal beauty, 13,31; 16,5; 60,18; 68,15; phainomenos, apparent, 44,21; appearing, 73,27; manifest, 42,16; manifested, 49,3; 87,9; visible, 32,5; 35,14; 71,13; phainomena kala, phenomenal beautiful things, 26,25; 27,24; to phainomenon, apparent (meaning), 69,1; 78,19; appearance, 16,13; 20,22; 33,9; appearances, 20,19; 21,23; on the surface, 17,17; outward appearance, 19,24; surface meaning, 81,25; the phenomenal, 19,6–7; 21,19; 53,11; the visible, 51,16; the world of appearances, 69,2 phanos; to phanon, light, 15,15 phantasia, apparition, 96,12; imagination, 21,6.21.26–7.31; 89,24; 90,7; mental representation, 59,5 phantasioun, call up a mental image, 21,28 phantasma, dream, 70,20 phantastikos, imaging, 29,7 pharmakeus, enchanter, 76,31; sorcerer, 76,29 pharmakon, elixir, 8,12; medicine, 7,26; recipe, 8,13 phasma, apparition, 73,25 phaulos, bad, 3,5.18; 35,20; 36,3.10; 75,17; pejorative, 5,22 philanthrôpos, helpful, 18,2.4.6; kind-­ hearted, 41,2 philein, be wont to, 67,31; feel affection for, 15,27; love, 36,18; 55,19; 65,9; 66,3 philia, friendship, 36,8.22; 37,13.15; 42,2–4; 52,11; 96,21; 105,15; love, 15,29; 35,25; relationship, 54,27 philios, of friendship, 43,10.12.15 philos, beloved, 41,12; dear, 14,12; 15,24; 16,1; 41,15; 44,14; 62,2.9; favourable, 8,25; friend, 4,8; 38,25; 39,7.14; 61,32

philosophein, study philosophy, 9,9 philosophia, philosophy, 1,9–10; 6,21; 7,5; 9,6–7; 11,2.22; 31,26; 45,31; 70,4.8; 79,4.7; 81,19; 83,9; 90,3.5.31; 96,30; 97,3 philosophos, philosopher, 7,6; 10,30; 11,1; 35,16; 76,28–9; 91,21; 96,26; 100,28; 110,1.22; 112,2; 118,32; 119,5; philosophical, 17,27; 46,2; 90,32; 91,1 phônê, speech, 72,18–19.24; 73,11; voice, 4,26; 70,7; 72,8.10.13–15; 73,15.20; phônên aphienai, give vent to a message, 72,4; give voice, 72,17; phônês rhêtheisês, when something is said, 71,21 phônein, speak, 72,16; vocalise, 72,25 phônêtikos, of speech, 73,29 phora, local motion, 16,17; locomotion, 112,25.32; 113,1 phôs, light, 29,8; 30,12; 73,19; 112,16; 115,14; 121,23 phôteinos, bright, 112,19 phôtizein, illuminate, 112,19; 115,14; 116,26–7; 121,23 phronêsis, practical wisdom, 83,10; 100,7; meta phronêseôs, after due consideration, 79,25 phrontizein, care for, 14,20 phthartos, corruptible, 118,18; perishable, 123,3 phtheiresthai, cease, 117,19.22.26.28; destroy, 108,30–1.33; 109,1.9.11– 13.15.17.20.25.28; 117,20.32–4; 119,17; perish, 109,4; 116,16.20; 117,17.23; 123,2.7 phthinein, waste away, 84,16 phthisis, diminution, 112,27 phthora, destruction, 108,29.34; 109,3; 112,24.29; passing away, 14,16 phusikôs, from the physical perspective, 17,1 phusikos, natural, 9,2; 16,22; 23,27; 26,2.12; 31,25–6; 32,26; 33,1; 53,4; 90,5; physical, 30,4; 32,21; 101,20; scientific, 11,23 phusiologia, scientific inquiry, 11,16 phusioun, naturalise, 102,13 phusis, entity, 75,25; 117,9; natural phenomenon, 32,28; nature, 6,2; 7,26; 8,1.22, etc.; physical aspect, 76,27; para phusin, unnatural, 61,12

Greek–English Index pistis, confirmation, 7,12 pistos, binding, 65,11; persuasive, 105,25.31; 106,11; 107,20 plasmatôdês, fictitious, 69,5 plassein, imagine, 117,21 platos, compass, 74,13; range, 118,27; 120,23 plêgê, a striking, 72,18; impact, 73,12 plekein, construct, 55,24; 57,7 plêmmelein, be faulty, 17,9 plêmmelês, discordant, 33,25 plêmmelôs, in a discordant fashion, 34,5; irregular, 47,11 plêroun, fill, 46,26; 49,8; 65,14; 104,10.17; fulfil, 37,6; 64,7; 106,15 plêsiazein, be in proximity to, 112,10.13 plêthos, multitude, 108,24; plurality, 89,3; quantity, 8,25 pneuma, breeze, 30,5.8; pneuma, 71,14; 73,24; 78,33.35; 108,11; wind, 30,18; 32,19.22; 36,6; Tuphônion p., Typhoon, 33,28 poiêma, poem, 41,10 poiêsis, poetry, 103,23–4; 104,4 poiêtês, author, 2,5; composer, 43,26; poet, 9,29; 12,6; 31,15; 46,3; 82,13.27; 83,25; 104,1.3.8; writer, 50,10 poiêtikos, efficient, 17,2.10; 90,11; 112,3.7; of poetry, 104,7; of poets, 92,20; poetic, 5,17.19; 10,18; 92,17; 103,27; productive, 61,8; active, 112,24; poiêtikôtatos, every inch a poet, 93,1; hê poiêtikê, poetic art, 103,29; poetry, 103,5; hê enthous poiêtikê, divinely inspired poetry, 103,6; inspired poetry, 104,20; hê tekhnikê poiêtikê, technically skilled poetry, 104,21 poikilos, devious, 27,19; elaborate, 49,1; to poikilon, intricacy, 68,23 politeia, citizen body, 74,27; civic matters, 77,29; regime, 20,24; state, 84,9; style of life, 21,1 politikos, political, 20,23; publicly active, 10,31; ho p., ordinary citizen, 11,19; ta politika, public affairs, 20,18; 21,3; civic affairs, 22,12 polukhroniôs, in the long term, 90,27 polukhronios, of longstanding, 101,32; chronic, 102,3

305

poluônumos, going under many names, 57,1 poluplokos, complex, 34,4 poluplokôs, in a complex fashion, 34,5 poma, draught, 71,1.10 pragma, actual event, 31,1; affair, 40,25; 53,15; 63,10; 96,32; difficulty, 121,17; enterprise, 52,3; fact, 21,15; matter, 29,17; 75,15; 114,27; matter in hand, 57,27; matter in question, 11,12; 16,14; phenomenon, 90,11; subject matter, 14,3; 55,26; thing, 7,3; 11,18; 14,4, etc.; thing in question, 36,2; topic in question, 6,28; p. theion, divine reality, 32,20; pragmata anthrôpika, human affairs, 20,8; pragmata peritta, endless trouble, 52,25; pragmata politika, civic affairs, 22,13; public affairs, 20,18; 21,4 praxis, act, 71,19; action, 71,22; 72,3; 74,14; 75,12; 78,35; activity, 70,17; conduct, 71,17; undertaking, 71,29.32; 74,7 presbuteros, elderly, 24,18.20; higher, 63,3.6; older, 120,28; older man, 24,14.32 proairein, choose, 21,24; 82,8; make a decision, 114,24 proairesis, choice, 18,13; 26,2.7; 79,26; 97,33; decision, 114,25; profession, 20,20 proairetikos, voluntary, 31,24–5.28 proapoballein, lose first, 117,28 proballein, advance, 45,12; 54,21; 67,2; 68,25; produce, 67,17.20–1.25.34; project, 77,22; 78,6; put forth, 46,22; 78,22 probiotê, previous life, 99,1 problêma, question, 108,2 probolê, projection, 68,24 prodiatithenai, pave the way for, 18,11; lay the foundations for, 54,25 prodieukrinein, clear up (beforehand), 10,11 prodiorthoun, set on the right track, 98,27 proêgeisthai, be primary, 13,26; come first, 16,17; 110,16.27; proêgoumenos, primary, 13,17.21.23; 43,4; 77,12 proêgoumenôs, as a matter of priority, 107,1; first, 17,4.11.27; of primary importance, 77,3; principally, 9,1

306

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proerkhesthai, advance, 116,31; be born, 99,11; emanate, 114,23; proceed, 49,23.25; 78,13 proienai, emerge, 31,14; go (forth), 59,21; later, 91,23; 92,12; proceed, 36,13; 63,2; 110,17; stem from, 64,14; proiontos tou logou, in the course of the speech, 65,21; 66,7 proimion, introduction, 7,11; ek proimiôn, from the outset, 15,24 proistanai (intransitive forms), be in charge of, 48,20; preside over, 59,12; be set over, 33,7 prokheiros, available, 3,6; 38,8; 85,10; ready to hand, 54,21 prolambanein, receive, 54,19 prolegein, foretell, 83,5.7; 96,16; 98,27 pronoein, care for, 70,30; exercise providential care, 13,30; form preconceptions, 21,29; provide care, 34,7; watch over, 15,27; ho pronooumenos, recipient of providential care, 34,6 pronoêtikos, providential, 30,9; 35,8; 51,7 pronoia, providence, 31,9.13; 51,6; 68,13.18; 97,32; 101,16 proodos, procession, 95,8 propherein, present, 67,6 prophêtês, prophet, 83,5 prophêteuein, instruct through oracles, 102,14; issue instructions through oracles, 102,17; speak prophetically, 103,18 prophêtis, prophetess, 88,14; 98,8 prophorikos, vocalised, 24,4 prosagein, bring to, 116,3.11.21; lead to, 103,12 prosdialegomenos, interlocutor, 24,34 prosekhein, attend to, 44,20; be devoted to, 4,9; 81,11; be preoccupied with, 17,28; focus on, 16,7; 20,22; 21,20.23 prosekhês, closely connected, 55,35; proximate, 70,23 prosekhôs, directly, 91,29; immediately, 70,14; just (now), 19,15 proskhêma, ostensible theme, 1,11 proskhrasthai, need, 92,17.19 prosôpon, character, 13,28; 53,24; person, 85,28; real person, 81,3

prosphoros, appropriate, 58,20–1; 79,1; 81,20; suited to, 78,30 prosphorôs, appropriately, 35,10; fittingly, 11,18; 14,5 prosphuês, germane, 19,21; suitable, 82,15; to the point, 59,20 prospoieisthai, engage in deception, 27,18; engage in pretence, 26,23; make use of, 40,6; pretend, 1,14; 11,31; 29,1; 44,9; represent, 81,3 prospoiêsis, deception, 28,29 prostasia, superintendence, 71,8 prostatein, preside, 34,5 prostatês, presiding, 65,6; 97,31 prostatis, overseer, 59,7; presiding, 66,17 prostattein, behave, 37,4 prostêkesthai, be engrossed in, 42,28 protasis, premiss, 22,19; 89,10; 93,24; 109,22.31; 113,21.23.26; 114,4.18; 115,19; 118,16.19; 120,7.19.26; 122,30 protattein, place before, 102,29 proteinein, offer, 93,3 prothumia, commitment, 92,5; eagerness, 16,12; 51,6; kindness, 71,29 prothuron, threshold, 31,17; 97,27 protiman, value, 29,15 protithenai, place before, 108,16; proffer, 27,11 prôtos, first, 1,11; 3,17; 4,3.28, etc.; primary, 12,8.10; 13,25; 52,5; 77,21.23.25–6.31; 78,2; 81,11; 86,17.19; 95,10; 121,27 protrepein, exhort, 1,9; urge, 72,3.7 protreptikos, designed to exhort, 9,6; exhortative, 11,22 pseudês, false, 38,13; 79,5; 87,4.11; to pseudes, falsehood, 87,10 pseudos, fallacious, 40,5; false, 42,2 psukhagôgia, allurement of the soul, 7,7.29 psukhê, soul, passim; mind, 18,9; kata psukhên, mentally, 61,20; ps. alogos, irrational soul, 55,30; 79,2; 82,23; 108,9; 119,30.33; ps. angelikê, angelic soul, 106,17; ps. anthrôpeia, human soul, 106,20; ps. anthrôpinê, human soul, 6,3; 106,2.11.20; 108,4; 119,33; ps. daimonia, daemonic soul, 106,17; ps. diegêgermenê, awakened soul, 85,10; ps. enthousiôsa, inspired soul, 90,13; ps. hêrôikê, heroic soul, 106,17; ps. huperkosmia,

Greek–English Index supramundane soul, 91,1; ps. logikê, rational soul, 29,6; 30,2; 35,6; 50,23; 55,31; 56,2; 57,22; 61,11; 71,35; 79,5; 82,23; 88,23.31; 106,20; 108,6–7.12–14; 119,29–30.33; ps. noerê, intellective soul, 35,6; ps. sôphrôn, chaste soul, 83,28; ps. sôphronousa, sane soul, 97,13; ps. theia, divine soul, 6,3; 105,6; 106,2.11.16.20.23.26; 108,4; 113,1; 119,33 psukhikos, of the soul, 105,22; psychic, 9,25; 45,23; 46,9.13; 51,12; 66,25; 93,26; psukhikê zôê, psychic life, 115,17; to psukhikon kalon, psychic beauty, 11,10; 14,1; to psukhikon kallos, beauty of the soul, 12,31; 13,4; 68,16; 69,31; psychic beauty, 27,17; 77,15; 83,17; 85,17.25–6; 96,22 psukhoun, animate, 121,26 pterôma, plumage, 84,16 pteron, wing, 6,2 pterophuein, sprout wings, 6,2 pterorruein, shed wings, 106,25 pterorruêsis, loss of wings, 93,16 pterôs, winged, 57,23 pteroun, give wings to, 57,23 ptoein, be excited, 14,17; 19,6–7; 53,11; be keen on, 15,2; be passionate, 1,10; 19,24 ptôsis, fall, 112,30 rhein, flow, 83,15; ho exô rheôn logos, the spoken word, 19,24 rhêtôr, orator, 9,10; 10,16; 11,3; 18,22; 20,16; rhetorician, 1,14; 7,29; 8,1; 9,17; 40,7; 42,12; 43,22.26 rhêtoreia, oratory, 17,28 rhêtorikos, rhetorical, 7,10; 18,23; hê rhêtorikê, rhetoric, 1,9–10; 6,26; 7,4.19.25.29; 9,6.8.10.15.18.20.22; 11,23.25; 29,4.9; rhetorical project, 9,17; to rhêtorikon, eloquence, 61,25 rhiza, root, 95,18; 122,26 rhoê, gravitation, 9,23 rhômê, strength, 57,13 rhônnunai, be enthusiastic about, 57,13; strengthen, 3,24 rhusis, flow, 14,18 sebein, revere, 6,11; venerate, 51,19; 74,20 seira, series, 28,2; 92,3

307

selênê, moon, 90,24; huper selênên, above the moon, 90,23.26; superlunary, 90,19; hupo selênên, below the moon, 116,25; sublunary, 90,18; 116,17 selêniakos, the moon’s, 90,21 sêmainein, indicate, 20,4; 29,25; 31,6; 32,5; 33,8; 42,20; 44,19; mean, 15,10– 11.13; 27,3; 29,29; 30,8; 57,27; 58,23; 80,27; 82,7.10; 84,20; 85,9; 88,1; 100,20; refer to, 86,15; signify, 3,17; 42,9.11–12; 44,10; 45,18.31; 48,23.27; 54,23; stand for, 15,19; to sêmainomenon, meaning, 51,20; sense, 5,24; 112,3 sêmantikos, having meaning, 74,1; indicative, 86,13 sêmeion, point, 22,11; sign, 4,25; 70,6; 71,18; 72,7; 100,8 semnologia, high-­flown utterance, 7,17 semnos, elevated, 18,7; exalted, 76,20; holy, 98,30; respectable, 54,3 sigê, silence, 59,1 sigein, remain silent, 59,30 skhêma, configuration, 49,10.13; 116,13; figure, 97,10; posture, 35,11.15 skhêmatizein, dissemble, 49,27; pretend, 42,22; structure, 44,3 skhesis, relationship, 95,8 skholastikos, leisured, 20,10 skholazein, devote self, 25,21; devote time, 77,28 skholê, leisure, 20,8; 26,26; kata skholên, in a leisurely manner, 19,11 skopos, objective, 1,13; 9,12.20.25–6; 10,5–6.8; 11,24; 12,9.14.16; 13,17; 14,9; mark, 13,12 sôizein, preserve, 93,12; 96,20; 97,23; 109,10.12.15; 117,21.23.32; save, 26,16; 28,30; 35,9; 43,9; 58,27; 68,29; 69,3.7.9; 102,20; sôizesthai, remain intact, 28,16; remain true, 98,5 sôma, body, 2,12; 3,22.24; 4,5, etc.; corporeal, 110,28; 116,27.29; en sômati, embodied, 33,15; kata sôma, physically, 61,21; s. aitherion, ethereal body, 117,10; s. aulon, immaterial body, 116,30; s. enkosmion, encosmic body, 32,7; s. enulon, material body, 117,4; s. ouranion, heavenly body, 117,5.12;

308

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s. phainomenon, visible body, 32,6; 71,14; s. theion, divine body, 119,15 sômatikos, bodily, 55,9; 57,6.11.16,20; corporeal, 110,1.4; 112,23; 113,10; 119,21 sophia, science, 33,9; wisdom, 8,12; 53,3.7 sophistês, sophist, 1,8; 42,9.22; 76,29.31 sophos, clever, 61,25; scientist, 32,26; wise, 2,21; 8,23.25.27, etc.; to sophon, the Wise, 45,30–1 sôphrôn, chaste, 12,2–3; 13,8; 41,2, etc.; man with self-­control, 84,23; moderate, 24,21; temperate, 63,18 sôphronein, be in a normal state of mind, 98,27; be in one’s right mind, 36,21; 39,18; be of sound mind, 1,18; 3,7; 5,15; 38,9; 48,8; 87,16.20; be prudent, 79,32; be sane, 24,26; 97,13; to s., sanity, 87,22–4; 88,2.4.6 sôphronikos, chaste, 45,6; 46,19 sôphronôs, in a chaste manner, 84,29; in a self-­controlled manner, 84,26 sôphrosunê, commonsense, 97,18; sanity, 97,13–14; 98,10; 99,15; 100,24; self-­control, 4,6; 56,16–17; 84,24; soundness of mind, 98,29; temperance, 56,10 sôstikos, such as to preserve, 117,35; that which saves, 53,29 sôtêr, saviour, 9,5 sôtêria, salvation, 10,26; 68,18 sperma, seed, 17,8; 101,20 sphaira, sphere, 47,9–10; 90,21 sphallein, err, 72,2; go wrong, 16,12; esphalmenos, erroneous, 67,19 splankhnoskopia, reading entrails, 100,9 spoudaios, good, 60,6; 61,15; 68,13; 71,16; 75,10; 76,21.23; serious, 29,17; 113,11 spoudazein, be concerned with, 66,20; be eager, 62,19; be enthusiastic about, 9,9; be in earnest, 43,9; become serious about, 8,8; pay a lot of attention to, 76,24; zealously pursue, 46,18 stasiazein, be at variance with, 56,9.12; 61,2.5 stasis, discord, 61,4; faction, 82,20; revolt, 61,10 sterein, deprive, 5,4; 80,1 sterêsis, loss, 91,16; privation, 28,13; 50,18

stoikheion, element, 34,13; 60,9; letter (of alphabet), 99,24; vowel, 100,21 stokhasmos, conjecture, 100,12 stokhastikos, divinatory, 75,26; 100,6.17.22.24 stokhazesthai, divine, 75,25 strephein, focus, 116,2; orient, 116,5.7.9.22– 3.25 sullogismos, argument, 108,23; 109,3.21.31; 113,18.23; 119,16; 120,4.12; demonstrative argument, 108,21; syllogism, 22,4 sullogistikôs, syllogistically, 93,24 sullogizesthai, argue, 22,3; 89,9 sumbainein, be the case, 93,5; 109,7; eventuate, 63,14; follow, 22,5; happen, 49,9; 65,24; occur, 72,27; 92,28; kata sumbebêkos, accidentally, 35,26 sumbakkheuein, join in Bacchic revelry, 42,30 sumballein, assist, 93,29; contribute, 92,26; work out, 102,28 sumbolikê, divination through omens, 100,9 sumbolon, mark, 83,8; sign, 66,13; 75,27; symbol, 47,10; 74,21; 90,13; 91,5; 97,23; token, 71,13.18; 97,25 summerizein, divide, 42,31 sumpatheia, sympathy, 116,27 sumperasma, conclusion, 21,12; 22,18.20; 64,15.26; 89,10; 93,25; 100,29; 107,21.24; 108,14.16 sumperipolêsis, accompanying revolution, 105,7; shared revolution, 67,28 sumpherein, be advantageous, 23,28; be beneficial, 48,3; to sumpheron, the beneficial, 60,23 sumphtheiresthai, be destroyed along with, 117,30.34; perish along with, 123,8 sumphuês, connatural, 111,16; 116,33; 117,13; 119,15.24 sumphuia, natural union, 117,6 sumphutos, inherent, 5,31 sumpiptein, collapse, 122,29 sumpnein, cooperate, 92,12 sumpnoia, cooperation, 44,12; 93,6 sumptôma, collapse, 28,15 sunagein, acquire, 101,12; carry along, 22,16; elevate, 30,12; lead, 96,22; 101,15;

Greek–English Index link to, 25,31; obtain, 114,11; reach (a conclusion), 79,6; take along with, 85,1; take with, 6,11; to sunagomenon, that which follows, 100,30 sunagôgos, bringing together, 17,26 sunainittesthai, intimate, 18,20 sunairein, assist, 59,12; bring together, 96,14.19 sunaisthanesthai, be aware of, 70,27.29–30; 71,4.18.21; realise, 4,27; 5,5; to s., awareness, 71,12 sunaisthêsis, awareness, 70,32; 71,9.15 sunaitios, contributory, 90,10 sunamphoteron, combination, 116,4 sunanagein, lead up, 30,12 sunanakerannunai, interfuse, 117,14 sunaphê, connection, 57,26 sunaptein, attach, 95,1; bind, 65,9; 89,5; connect, 117,7.11; join, 13,5; 89,7; 93,19; 94,13; 96,24; 116,12 sunarmonia, harmonisation, 94,7 sunarmostikos, that which brings together, 94,28 sunarmozein, be agreeable, 62,28; put together, 95,24; unify, 96,9 sundiaplekein, weave together, 101,17 sunegeirein, revive, 94,10 suneinai, be present, 55,35; 109,10; 115,24; be with, 4,8; 114,15; co-­exist with, 118,11; consort with, 58,24; hoi sunontes, those present, 73,26; companions, 62,9 sunekheia, coherence, 101,19; continuity, 101,26; 117,8 sunekhein, hold together, 59,10; preserve, 96,20 sunekhês, continuous, 101,24; to sunekhes, continuity, 58,12; flow, 58,1 sunekhôs, frequent, 58,4 sungenês, kindred, 57,11; related, 98,21; relative, 4,8 sunistanai (transitive forms), introduce, 18,22; (intransitive forms), exist, 37,14; 100,13 sunkrinein, compare, 84,21.24 sunkrisis, combination, 112,25.30; comparison, 54,14; hôs pros sunkrisin, compared to, 76,6 sunousia, association, 11,3; 16,3; 62,11; company, 15,1; conversation, 17,23;

309

18,11; encounter, 59,29; intercourse, 36,4; relations, 37,7; sexual intercourse, 36,8; time spent together, 4,10; 20,7 sunousioun, inhere, 113,14 suntattein, assign, 74,5.8; 79,13; subordinate, 10,7; 12,16; 106,23; suntetagmenos, on the same level, 121,14 suntaxis, arrangement, 38,7 suntetamenôs, eagerly, 57,6 sunthesis, arrangement, 12,27; combination, 49,3; 68,23; 83,15 sunthetos, composite, 49,4; 66,29; compound, 8,1; 59,15.22.24 sunthrauein, shatter, 94,3 suntonia, intensity, 57,14 suntonos, intense, 35,21; intensified, 57,15; with a high degree of, 92,5 sustoikhia, level, 87,22 sustoikhos, on the same level, 97,13; suited, 73,15 tarakhê, confusion, 93,27; disorder, 93,31 tarattein, concern, 103,13; confuse, 120,28; disorder, 93,30; trouble, 97,29 tattein, classify, 84,10; locate, 105,23; place, 74,11.15 tautotês, sameness, 63,2 taxis, order, 2,12; 28,5; 39,9; 71,10–11; 81,28; 82,26; 90,16.27; 91,20; 93,16; 95,3; 96,3; 101,17; 103,29; 110,19; 120,21; position, 39,6; rank, 41,8; 59,8; 92,3; sequence, 109,22; station, 13,24 teinein, direct, 81,32; order, 12,15 tekhnê, art, 7,21; 8,5.11; 22,23; 97,21; 99,23; 100,13.17; 104,2.8; craft, 89,26; handbook, 7,10; skill, 27,1; 97,19; technique, 89,24 tekhnikos, skill-­based, 104,21.23; technical, 104,26; workmanlike, 97,18; hê tekhnikê, art, 103,6 tekhnitês, architect, 94,27; professional, 20,17; skilled worker, 97,16.24 tekmêrion, proof, 7,12 teleia, full stop, 52,24 telein, come under, 70,15; consecrate, 91,9.17; 92,16; initiate, 15,26.26; 29,27; pay tax, 75,3.5 teleios, complete, 109,19; perfect, 59,3.5; 62,24; 63,3.6; 68,6; 76,6.13; 83,8; 95,6.10;

310

Greek–English Index

96,13; 99,13; 115,3; perfected, 27,6; to teleion, completeness, 109,7 teleiotês, perfection, 89,11; 92,4 teleioun, bring to perfection, 93,4; complete, 67,5; 70,1; mature, 56,3; perfect, 51,1; 65,4; 79,8; 85,12; 89,1.11; 93,11; 115,3.5; 118,7.9; 119,28.31 teleos, complete, 101,5; perfect, 93,32; 94,7; 95,7; 98,6; unblemished, 96,11.13; to teleon, completeness, 60,10; perfection, 97,30; 98,3 telesiourgein, bring to perfection, 17,7 telestês, practitioner of telestic, 90,21; priest, 91,17; 102,24 telestikos, involved in the mysteries, 92,30; telestic, 5,17.19; 88,17; 92,11.14; 94,29; 95,25; 96,10.29; 101,3.5.7; 105,2; hê telestikê, rite, 30,18; telestic art, 79,1; 101,33; telestic, 90,18.28; 91,4; 92,15–16; 93,32; 94,1; 97,2.7; 102,10.19; 103,15.17.20.22; 104,21; enthous telestikê, inspired telestic, 104,22; telestikê tekhnikê, skill-­based telestic, 104,23; technical telestic, 104,26 teletê, initiation, 31,17.19; rite, 97,23; 102,29 teleutaios, at the end, 113,19; 114,29; final, 13,9; last, 28,2.4; 29,30; 34,15; 85,3; 109,32; 113,26; lowest, 34,27; 46,8; uttermost, 42,24; teleutaion, finally, 14,11; 29,2; 60,17; 92,8.11; lastly, 57,24 teleutan, die, 30,24; 31,24 teleutê, end, 2,9; 3,11; 13,5; termination, 16,19 telikos, final, 18,17; 90,14; 112,4; 113,10 telos, assessment group, 74,27; conclusion, 107,22; destination, 16,24; end, 9,18; 66,2; 67,33; 68,30; 95,6; goal, 18,16; latter stage, 11,26; purpose, 17,5.9.11 tetraplasios, quadruple, 95,16 tetraprosôpos, four-­faced, 95,21 tetras, tetrad, 95,13.18 thanatos, death, 31,25.27 thaumazein, marvel at, 16,26 thea, contemplation, 112,31; sight, 80,7; viewing, 106,3; vision, 6,9 thea, goddess, 34,20; 104,13

theasthai, consider, 85,15; contemplate, 52,11; gaze on, 86,6; 106,33; 107,3; see, 106,35; 107,13 theatos, visible, 10,2 theios, divine, 31,12; 34,3; 46,10; 50,22–3; 58,6.25; 59,8; 69,27–8; 73,8.22; 77,5.7; 92,19; 118,32; divinely inspired, 66,8; kata to theion eidos, god-­like, 51,7; theion agathon, divine blessing, 93,4; theia anankê, divine necessity, 63,8; theios anêr, divine man, 72,19; 96,7; theia ellampsis, divine illumination, 59,1.3.27; theia energeia, divine activity, 66,27; theios enthousiasmos, divine possession, 66,11; theios erôs, divine love, 6,13; 12,2–3; 23,17; 35,12; 51,25; 67,6.8; 68,2.11; 77,6; 82,11; 85,20; 107,6; theia erôtikê, divine erotic, 105,15; theia gnôsis, divine knowledge, 75,8; theia henôsis, divine union, 93,19; theion kallos, divine beauty, 106,18; theia kephalê, divine head, 42,32; 46,10; 50,21; theion kinêma, divine motion, 9,2; theia mania, divine madness, 5,16.26; theia mantikê, divine art of prophecy, 75,11; divine mantic, 100,3; divine prophecy, 75,28; divine prophetic art, 75,22; theia moira, divine providence, 92,5; theia ousia, divine being, 14,5; theia paideusis, divine education, 65,5; theion pathos, divine passion, 58,2.6.8.33; divinely inspired fervour, 65,20; 66,7; theion phantasma, divine apparition, 73,25; theia phusis, divine nature, 101,16; 119,14; theion pragma, divine reality, 32,20; theia psukhê, divine soul, 6,4; 105,6; 106,2.11.16–17.20.23.26; 107,16; 108,5; 113,1–2; 119,33; theion sôma, divine body, 119,15; to theion, divine thing, 16,26; 115,13; 120,14; divinity, 72,6; 74,17.22; the divine, 17,3; 45,28; 91,4.8.13; 103,9.12 theiôs, in a divine manner, 42,11; in a godly manner, 84,29 thelgein, beguile, 53,21; enchant, 52,23; 76,26 theoeidôs, in a god-­like manner, 26,15 theologia, theology, 11,16; 78,16; 95,21; 97,3

Greek–English Index theologikos, theological, 10,2; 11,23; 12,4; 58,20 theologos, theologian, 44,11; 45,13; 82,12 theomuthia, divine myth, 30,28 theôrein, consider, 54,12; 97,6; contemplate, 29,23; 30,2; 82,6; 85,19; 86,1; 115,33; gaze, 6,6; look at, 93,17; observe, 14,18; see, 120,23; view, 69,30 theôrêma, idea, 89,9.22; practice, 97,26; procedure, 95,22; technique, 97,17.25; theorem, 55,25 theôrêtikos, capable of engaging in contemplation, 77,28; contemplative, 10,30; technical, 97,18; theoretical, 28,18 theôrêtikôs, from a contemplative standpoint, 42,24 theôria, attention, 71,17; contemplation, 18,29; 32,9.12; 43,7–8; 66,28.30; 69,32; 77,28; 78,5; 82,6; 84,14; 85,16; 105,20; 112,31; 121,21; theory, 31,20; 69,3 theos, God, 52,3; god, 4,28; 8,24; 9,5, etc.; goddess, 32,3; 40,19; 46,1; 58,24; th. didôn, donor god, 94,15; th. enkosmios, encosmic god, 13,1; th. entopios, god of a place, 7,6; th. eparkhôn, presiding god, 31,3; th. ephoros, overseeing god, 58,32; 93,6; presiding deity, 28,5; presiding god, 5,17; 30,18; 34,18–19; 97,27; presiding goddess, 32,3; 46,1; th. hêgemôn, leader god, 106,1; th. khthonios, chthonic god, 86,16; th. moirêgetês, god who is the guide of fate, 101,17.26; th. noêtos, intelligible god, 35,3; th. Olumpios, Olympian god, 20,5; th. ouranios, heavenly god, 72,19; 73,9; tôn theôn, divine, 91,10 therapeia, cult, 104,24; cure, 80,17.21; form of worship, 104,25; treatment, 14,22 therapeuein, cure, 101,28; venerate, 30,18 therapeutikos, healer, 19,8 thixis, direct contact, 93,21; touching, 21,7; 68,24 thnêtos, mortal, 20,8; 95,24; 107,3; 108,9; 118,18 thuein (A), sacrifice, 102,25 thuein (B), desire eagerly, 31,22 thugatêr, daughter, 30,16; 31,4

311

thumos, fit of anger, 119,23; outbreak of anger, 79,3; spirited part, 76,30; 89,28; thumon homophrona ekhein, be of the same mind, 65,12 thurathen, from without, 56,3 trekhein, continue, 121,18; run, 71,20 trias, triad, 95,5 tribê, knack, 7,8; preoccupation, 26,25 triplasios, triple, 95,15 tristoikhon, three levels, 31,2 tuphlos, blind, 80,3; 81,31; 82,2.8 tuphlôsis, blindness, 80,2 tuphlotês, blindness, 81,28 tuphloun, blind, 80,10; 82,10; render blind, 80,25; strike blind, 5,3; 80,7.11 tupos, type, 16,10 turanneuein, achieve domination, 56,18; 57,5; lord it, 56,28 turannikos, tyrannical, 92,4.7 turannis, tyranny, 48,13.15; 71,5 turannos, tyrant, 44,22; 48,13 xumblêtos, comparable, 77,17 xumpiptein, collapse, 107,30 zêlos, style, 17,17 zên, lead a life, 71,23; 74,9; live, 20,24; 26,6; 31,26; 63,11; 71,16; 74,11; 94,8; 118,10.29; 121,27; to zên, having life, 109,16; life, 111,13–14; 115,9.11; 118,11 zêtein, ask, 6,27; 17,4; 62,29; 90,3; inquire, 8,6; investigate, 17,11; 100,7; pose a question, 17,13; seek, 16,29; 17,27; 20,16.19.21.26; 102,26; 119,24; to zêtoumenon, the question, 22,3 zêtêsis, discussion, 110,32; inquiry, 100,5 zêtêteon, one must / should ask / seek, 54,9; 55,11; 72,15.24; 104,18; 107,27 zêtêtikos, inquisitive, 31,20 zôê, life, passim; life-­style, 82,21; style of life, 56,10.12.15; type of life, 119,26; way of life, 13,10; 52,8; 56,20; 58,20; 61,6; 62,22; 71,15; 84,11; z. agathê, good life, 60,8; z. akolastos, licentious way of life, 13,7; z. alogos, irrational life, 57,1; 108,10; z. anthrôpikê, human way of living, 59,4; z. empathês, impassioned life, 57,1; z. enthous, (divinely-)inspired (way of) life, 13,9; 76,8; z. hêdeia,

312

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pleasant life, 60,8; z. hupertera, higher (kind / way of) life, 15,8.18; 62,24; 70,3; z. hupheimenê, lower way of living, 59,4; z. hupsêlotera, more lofty way of life, 70,3; z. kalê, beautiful life, 60,8; z. koilôtera, emptier life, 20,14; z. kreittôn, better life, 15,8.18; 18,31; z. proairetikê, voluntary life, 31,25; z. psukhikê, psychic life, 115,17; z. sôphrôn, chaste (way of) life, 13,8; 76,8; z. spoudaia,

good life, 60,6; z. teleiôtera, more perfect kind of life, 62,24 zôion, animal, 23,24.28; 38,21–2; 56,5; 122,16; creature, 26,13; living being, 10,7; 118,25; living creature, 26,3; 30,23; 55,35; 95,24; 108,3; 110,33; 115,16; living thing, 12,15; 16,22 zôopoiein, animate, 115,10 zôopoios, life-­creating, 73,17 zôtikos, vital, 26,3.13; 73,17

Subject Index References in the form 40,21 are to the page and line numbers of the Greek text in the margin of the translation. Those listed after ‘n’ to the notes. Aeschines 40,21 Ammon 8,10 Ammonius n. 83, 145, 208, 228, 255 Anacreon 2,21; 45,10 ff.; 92,25; n. 347 Analogical correlations 21,14–20; 33,25–34,3; 47,15–17; 75, 8–16; 78,3; 84,10–12; 93,13; 94,20–96,2; 96,33–97,12; n. 84, 108, 155, 195, 445 Apollo 5,18; 33,13; 47,5.13; 75,10; 93,1.8; 94,10.30; 95,4; 98,20–1.25; n. 256, 368, 399, 530, 598 Aristotle 20,11.24; 36,7; 55,4.25; 56,3; 103,24; 110,1.23.25.31; 111,6; 115,16; 120,10; 123,1; n. 23, 66, 83, 161,175, 221, 237, 292, 296, 332, 348, 353, 414, 429, 441, 526, 546, 629, 705, 710, 754, 759, 762, 765, 766, 767, 768, 791, 828 Aristophanes 45,15; n. 166, 482, 698 Ascent 12,18–13,3; 29,24–7; 52,1–7; 57,23; 71,31; 77,4–9; 83,2–12; 105,34– 106.26; 107,3; 115,11; n. 94, 96, 97, 113, 399, 575, 655, 683 Beauty n. 7, 34, 94, 124, 331, 384, 605, 623 Intelligible 20,21; 44,5–7; 47,16; 81,16; 82,4–5; 82,30–83,4; 83,19.30; 85,19; 86,20–1; 94,11–13; 106,3.13.33; 106,35–107,16; n. 96 Psychic 12,31–13,4; 14,11; 68,16; 69,31; 77,15; 85,17.25–6; n. 345 Sensible 14,14–19; 27,14–25; 27,27; 48,21–6; 66,29; 81,9- 82,11; 83,15.27; 96,22; n. 227, 324 The Form of Beauty 5,26; 13,20; 14,13; 16,24–17,1; 29,15; 42,26; 45,30.32; 60,7.10.21; 81,15; 82,1; 83,16

Callimachus 104,6 Chaldaean Oracles 115,11; n. 408, 682, 788 Choerilus 104,6 Concepts 21,26–31; 45,11; 46,14; 54,18–25; 66,30–67,4; 67,34–68,6; 85,21; n. 339, 345, 415 Daemon (incl. Socrates’ daimonion) 4,25; 13,22–7; 42,5–21; 43,13–15; 62,14–26; 67,5; 68,4; 70,3–74,16; 79,12; 89,21; 101,27–32; n. 106, 107, 208, 315, 319, 477, 537, 541 Definition 3,18; 5,24–6; 35,20; 56,22; 54,7–55,10; 57,18–58,11 Demiurge 17,2.4; 45,12.27; 54,20; 66,31; 67,26; 113,2; n. 267, 339, 368, 370 Dionysus 5,18; 34,21–2; 41,15; 58,5.29; 59,16; 93,8; 94,29; 95,5–6.13; 97,29; 98,1.3; 103,22; n. 161, 324, 368, 453, 458, 628 Empedocles n. 125 Etymology 19,19; 57,14; 99,19–100,24; n. 129, 130, 249, 254, 456, 458, 569, 600, 623, 670, 722 Euripides 25,22; n. 222, 226, 291 Helen of Troy 5,3–4; 80,8.23.28–9; 81,10; 82,16.27.30; 83,14; 87,4; n. 583, 595, 599, 600, 605, 609 Forms 6,7–9; 50,29; 54,19; 66,21; 85,22; 89,7; 94,24; 120,34–121,2; n. 266; 339; 345; 445; 554; 641; 779 Enmattered 59,21; 63,8; 82,22; 84,11; 121,8; n. 597 Galen n. 155, 217, 348

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Gods: Encosmic 13,1, 72.26; n. 94, 256, 399 Heavenly 72,19; 73,9 Providence of 31,9.13; 51,6; 68,13.18; 97,32; 101,16; n. 646 Good, the 9,28; 12,5; 43,19–20; 45,29; 77,9; 90,14; 96,2; n. 8, 332, 497, 608 Gorgias 7,15 Happiness (likeness to god) 101,9; 106,32–107,9 Heaven(s) Motions of 116,17–117,16 Vault of 6,8 Hermes 8,10; 28,1.3.6; 99,6.8; n. 45, 86, 229, 230, 399 Hermes Trimegistus 99.6; n. 699 Homer 5,2–6; 17,17; 28,23; 65,10; 79.11; 80,2.6.25.28; 81,5–6.13.23.26.29; 82,2.13–14.28–9; 83,7; 89,26; 104,6; n. 5, 142, 239, 254, 270, 273, 325, 335, 385, 412, 530, 532, 536, 581, 589, 592, 593, 594, 597, 599, 605

Love: As god 3,15; 4,28; 9,5; 10,25; 13,3; 42,18; 57,24–8; 77,4–18; 94,30; n. 20, 96, 345, 399, 435 Chaste (sôphrôn) 12,2–3; 45,6.8–9; 46,3–4.6–20; 54,1; 67,9–68,3; n. 86, 87, 553 Licentious 6,15; 13,7; 19,23; 53,14; 56,11.29; 84,17–31; n. 429 Logic 16,18–24; 28,25; 55,25; 58,12–16; 95,22; 107,21–6; 108,13–30; 114,11; 122,20; n. 134, 296, 422, 787 Lysias passim

Justice 10,21; 100,31; 101,18, 122,4–5; n. 155, 608, 686

Madness Erotic 92,2.22–8; 95,1; 96,20–4; 105,1–11; n. 683 Mantic 92,14–22; 94,30; 95,27; 96,14–20; 98,10; 101,3; 105,2: n. 628, 710 Poetic 92,22–8; 103,14–25: n. 627 Telestic 92,14–22; 94,29; 96,10.29; 101,3; 103,14–25; 105,2: n. 686 Medicine 7,24–8,5; 19,1–5; 23,19–23; 26,16; 67,23; 79,18; 97,17; 102,1; 101,28; n. 1, 155, 207, 224 Motion Kinds of 9,19–24; 16,16–18; 110,1–9; 111,19–20; 112,20–113,8; 116,29– 117,4; 119,19–34; n. 133 Of intellect 22,9; 111,6–20; 113,3–5; n. 193 Musaeus 93,3 Muses 5,18; 41,16; 52,1.11–13.15–16; 81,31; 92,22; 93,8; 94,28; 95,7; 103,1; 104,2.7.9.11.15.17 Music 40,4; 52,14–24; 83,20; 95,13–21; n. 591, 593 Mysteries (rites) 75,8–28; 92,30; 97,27; 102,29–31; 103,12–22; n. 124, 229, 628, 642, 698 Myth 30,14–31,14; 32,16–33,3; 78,15–25; 68,28–69,9; n. 258, 601

Knowledge 22,23–8; 67,18; 89,8; 97,21.26; n. 94, 330, 608: Divine 33,13; 75,8: Opp. opinion 15,4; 53,3–8; n. 118

Nature (hypostasis) 59,7; 118,31–119,16; n. 496, 805 Number symbolism 83,4–6; 95,4–21; n. 670

Iamblichus 10,8; 73,10; 118,32; n. 7, 53, 66, 79, 93, 134, 185, 244, 326, 370, 533, 563, 573, 669, 671, 748, 781, 803 Ibycus 72,58 Inspiration or divine possession 46,7–27; 58,7–11; 66,11; 69,28–70,3; 88,15–91,20; 92,27; 95,22; 97,20; 103,14–21; 105,13; n. 496, 726, 735 Intellect Opp. discursive thought 22,1–2; 88,25 Hypostasis 93,20 Motion of 22,9; 113,5; n. 193 Potential intellect 88,23–6 Soul’s intellect 89,17; n. 185 Isocrates 8,21

Subject Index Nymphs 4,19; 34,20; 58,29–30; 59,6.12.25.31; 65,19; 66,17–18.23; 68,17–18; 102,22.25 Nymph-­possessed 4,19; 58,30; 59,6; 65,21; 91,24 Objective (skopos) 11,12–14,16; n. 7, 8, 52, 53, 66, 81, 89, 92 One, The, 43,21; 45,30; 88,30; 89,2; 94,12; 96,19; n.7, 113, 326, 370, 399, 826 Of the gods, 85,28; 95,12–13 Of the soul 50,22; 88,30; 90,14; 91,18; 93,19; 96,23; n. 171, 318, 324, 608 Oracles 28,18; 80,17; 98,12–99,14; 102,13–18; 115,10; n. 171, 236, 682, 695 Orpheus 92,28; 99,8; n. 239, 593 Orphic fragments n. 453, 501 Palinode 5,1–9; 13,2.9; 35,11; 77,17; 79,23; 80,24–6; 87,7; 105,24; 107,18; n. 539 Perception 15,10–15; 21,6.25–31; 67,18; 72,16–73,11; 74,2; n. 188, 445, 502 Phaedrus passim Pindar 23,13; 32,10; 104,6; n. 205, 206, 227, 257 Plato passim Plato Comicus 63,21 Platonic dialogues Alcibiades 1 14,7; n. 1, 3, 8, 84, 263, 346, 415 Cratylus 22,26; n. 84, 239, 322, 544, 663 Euthyphro n. 580 Ion n. 592, 653 Laws 43,14; 110,4; 112,1–9; 120,20; n. 193, 265, 330, 510, 612, 653, 657, 762, 775 Lysis n. 132 Meno n. 500 Phaedrus passim Philebus 60,9; 74,25; n. 510 Protagoras n. 198 Republic 4,13; 15,4; 57,3; 68,30; 74,13; 83,5; 108,34; n. 22, 68, 74, 84, 118, 224, 335, 357, 375, 497, 501, 510, 542, 601, 604, 608, 612, 645, 779 Sophist 10,21; 61,4.9; n. 4, 155 Statesman n. 498, 511, 612

315

Symposium 13,23; 22,24; 42,18; 45,15; 70,12; 76,28; n. 2, 97, 105, 106, 290, 318 Theaetetus 22,25; 67,18; 106,31–2; n. 198, 502, 510, 743 Timaeus 52,5; 66,31; n. 80, 84, 107, 133, 134, 192, 242, 244, 256, 348, 356, 368, 387, 399, 400, 498, 563, 646, 748, 752, 818 Plotinus 72,16; 73,10; n. 96, 258, 533, 643, 757 Pneuma 30,6–12; 36,6; 71,14; 73,24; 78,35; 108,11; n. 208, 525, 537, 573 Poets and poetry 31,15; 58,3–5; 59, 13–26; 65,24–66,15; 92,18–93,8; 103,1–6.22–104,17; n. 456, 458, 593 Pollution 78,26–79,35, n. 573, 578, 580 Polus 7,15 Porphyry 118,32; n. 134, 244, 255, 258, 358, 417, 423, 426, 748, 749, 795, 803 Prayer 6,19; 8,23; 52,1–8; 53,16; n. 5, 400 Procession 49,23–5; 78,13; n. 379, 563 Proclus 96,24; n. 1, 8, 66, 79, 80, 84, 97, 107, 108, 114, 118, 119, 134, 150, 173, 188, 193, 208, 217, 229, 244, 256, 258, 271, 273, 322, 326, 327, 332, 335, 336, 339, 357, 358, 368, 370, 379, 383, 388, 391, 399, 400, 403, 415, 422, 480, 496, 537, 543, 544, 547, 563, 589, 593, 594, 596, 617, 627, 648, 650, 655, 666, 670, 682, 684, 691, 712, 714, 725, 748, 752, 753, 757, 767, 779, 793, 795, 798, 805, 818 Prophecy 75,8–28; 83,5; 96,14–20; 97,27; 98,8–30; 103,18; n. 628, 683 Purification 11,21; 51,5.23; 78,10–79,35; 85,30–86,8; 102,29–30; n. 388, 575, 628 Recollection, doctrine of 5,26–7; 16,14; 45,26–8; 54,15–25; 67,14–31; 106,34–107,16; n. 339 Reversion 49,23–5; 52,8–11; 68,14–16; 85,3.25.31–86,2; n. 192, 196, 379, 399 Rhetoric 1,9–10; 7,4–9; 7,10–8,5; 9,6–11; 9,14–24; 11,23.25; 29,4–9; n. 7 Sappho 2,20; 45,10 ff.; 92,25; n. 347 Sickness 1,19; 3,7; 16,23; 36,21; 38,9; 39,19–23; 60,32–61,16; n. 462

316

Subject Index

Socrates passim Divine mission 1,5–9; 26,15; n. 1 Care for young 1,5; 13,30; 14,20; 15,24; 20,12; 22,23–8.; 26,16; n. 1, 7 Doctor of souls 19,3–5; 23,21–2; 67,23–4 Erotic nature 22,23–4; 23,19 His daemon 4,25–6; 67,4–5; 68,3–7; 70,3–10; 71,24–72,16 Descends from own level 20,14–15; 43,7–8; 46,7–22; 51,22 But remains attached to own level 15,21–3; 22,5–7; 35,2–4; 78,10–12 Self-­knowledge 33,12–18; n. 236 Ignorance 46,23–6; 75,8–9 Irony 44,9–10 Sophists 1,9; 42,10,.24; 76,29, 31; n. 4 Souls Celestial 90,20–9; 105,6 Divine 106,2–26; 107,16; 113,1–2 Faculties of 21,5–14; 29,30; 34,28; n. 173 Immortality of 5,27–30; 9,27; 106,29–123,10; n. 734 Motions of 9,21; 112,22–3; 113,2; 118,1–3; n. 60 Vehicles of 73,5.28–74,1; n. 537 Wings of 6,2; 57,23; 93,16; 106,25; n. 399

Statues, animation of 91,3–16; n. 627, 648, 650 Stesichorus 5,1–7; 79,14; 80,1.10.24.26; 81,4–30; 82,5; 86,20; 87,6–7; n. 26, 583, 585, 587, 589, 593, 594, 599, 605, 623 Sub-­lunary region 90,18–91,2; 116,17–28 Sun 32,6; 47,12; n. 256, 354, 357, 358, 368, 608 Symbol 47,10; 74,21; 90,13; 91,5; n. 121, 227, 229, 230, 243, 324, 354, 355, 642 Syrianus 96,26; n. 219, 255, 335, 339, 346, 368, 391, 399, 537, 544, 593, 682, 683, 684, 687, 748, 753, 781, 795 Theon of Smyrna n. 124 Theophrastus 8,10; n. 818 Theurgy n. 628, 650, 682, 687 Theuth 8,10; n. 45 Tisias 7,15 Writing 6,24–9; 8,6–20; 27,27; 75,16 Zeus 6,4; 20,5; 43,10–12.16; 48,15–17.19.21.29; 50,19; 59,17.20; 98,20.22.24; 106,1.19; n. 273, 330, 331, 335, 358, 367, 368, 399, 453, 456, 456, 541