But you must not wonder if I speak any
how as things come into my mind; for the fluent and orderly enumeration of
all your singularities is not a task which is easy to a man in my
condition.
And now, my boys, I shall praise Socrates in a figure which will appear to
him to be a caricature, and yet I speak, not to make fun of him, but only
for the truth's sake. I say, that he is exactly like the busts of Silenus,
which are set up in the statuaries' shops, holding pipes and flutes in
their mouths; and they are made to open in the middle, and have images of
gods inside them. I say also that he is like Marsyas the satyr. You
yourself will not deny, Socrates, that your face is like that of a satyr.
Aye, and there is a resemblance in other points too. For example, you are
a bully, as I can prove by witnesses, if you will not confess. And are you
not a flute-player? That you are, and a performer far more wonderful than
Marsyas. He indeed with instruments used to charm the souls of men by the
power of his breath, and the players of his music do so still: for the
melodies of Olympus (compare Arist.
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