which you can hardly form a notion, gentlemen. Believe me, it makes no difference to him whether a person is good-looking-he despises good looks to an almost inconceivable extent nor whether he is rich nor whether he possesses any of the other advantages that rank high in popular esteem; to him all these things are worthless, and we ourselves of no account, be sure of that. He spends his whole life pretending and playing with people, and I doubt whether anyone has ever seen the treasures which are revealed when he grows serious and exposes what he keeps inside. However, once saw them, and found them so divine and precious and beautiful and marvellous that, to put the matter briefly, I had no choice but to do whatever Socrates bade me.

"Believing that he was serious in his admirations of my charms, I supposed that a wonderful piece of good luck had befallen me; I should now be able, be able, in return for my favours, to find out all that Socrates knew; for you must know that there was no limit to the pride that I felt

in my good looks. With this end in view I sent away my attendant, whom hitherto I had always kept with me in my encounters with Socrates, and left myself alone with him. I must tell you the whole truth

I allowed myself to be alone with him, I say, gentlemen, and I naturally supposed that he would embark on conversation of the type that a lover usually addresses to his darling when they are tète-a-tète, and I was glad. Nothing of the kind: he spent the day with me in the sort of talk which is habitual with him. and then left me and went away.

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Next I invited him to train with me in the gymnasium, and I accompanied him there, believing that I should succeed with him now. He took exercise and wrestled with me frequently, with no one else present. but I need hardly say that I was no nearer my goal. Then... I resolved to make a direct assault on him... and invited him to dine with me, behaving just like a lover who has designs upon his favorite. He was in no hurry to accept . . . but at last he agreed to come. The first time... he rose to go away immediately after dinner, and on that occasion I was ashamed and let him go. But

.. (the next) time I kept him in conversation after dinner far into the night, and then, when he wanted to be going, I compelled him to stay, on the plea that it was too late for him to go.

"So he betook himself to rest. using as a bed the couch on which he had reclined at dinner, next to mine, and there was nobody sleeping in the room but ourselves... Well, gentlemen, when the light was out and the servants had withdrawn. I decided not to beat about the bush. but to tell him my sentiments boldly. I nudged him and said: 'Are you asleep, Socrates?' 'Far from it," he answered. 'Do you know what I think?' 'No, what?' 'I think that you are the only lover that I have ever had who is worthy of me, but you are afraid to mention your passion to me. Now . . . I feel... that it would be very foolish of me not to comply with your desires in this respect as well as in any other claim

The cardinal object of my ambition is to come as near perfection as possible, and I believe that no one can give me such powerful assistance towards this end as you...

"He listened to what I had to say, and then made a thoroughly characteristic reply in his usual ironical style.

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