COMPANION: I see, Apollodorus, that you are just the same--always speaking
evil of yourself, and of others; and I do believe that you pity all
mankind, with the exception of Socrates, yourself first of all, true in
this to your old name, which, however deserved, I know not how you
acquired, of Apollodorus the madman; for you are always raging against
yourself and everybody but Socrates.
APOLLODORUS: Yes, friend, and the reason why I am said to be mad, and out
of my wits, is just because I have these notions of myself and you; no
other evidence is required.
COMPANION: No more of that, Apollodorus; but let me renew my request that
you would repeat the conversation.
APOLLODORUS: Well, the tale of love was on this wise:--But perhaps I had
better begin at the beginning, and endeavour to give you the exact words of
Aristodemus:
He said that he met Socrates fresh from the bath and sandalled; and as the
sight of the sandals was unusual, he asked him whither he was going that he
had been converted into such a beau:--
To a banquet at Agathon's, he replied, whose invitation to his sacrifice of
victory I refused yesterday, fearing a crowd, but promising that I would
come to-day instead; and so I have put on my finery, because he is such a
fine man.
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