Page 23 of 38
Euripides saw in woman the equal and not the slave of man, Socrates regarded her as his natural friend and not his natural enemy. In Xenophon's Socratic books, the Memorabilia, the conomicus, and the[139] Symposium, we get the best record of the master's view of the women, for Socrates was himself too cautious ever to commit himself to the written word, and perhaps the most characteristic of the episodes is the visit to the fair hetaira, the one faithful of all the lovers of Alcibiades, described in the Memorabilia.
There lived in Athens a fair lady called Theodot, whose habit it was to give her society to any one who could woo and win her. One of the company made mention of her to Socrates, remarking that the lady's beauty quite surpassed description. 'Painters,' said he, 'go to her house to paint her portrait, and she displays to them all her perfection!' 'Well,' said Socrates, 'manifestly, we too must go and see her. It is impossible from mere hearsay to realise something which surpasses description.' Thereupon his informant: 'Quick, then, and follow me.'
So off they went at once to Theodot, and found her at home, posing to a painter. When the painter had finished, 'Friends,' said Socrates, 'ought we to be more grateful to Theodot for displaying to us her beauty, or she to us for having come to see her? I suppose if this display is going to be more advantageous to her, she ought to be grateful to us. But if it is we who are going to make a profit from the sight, then we ought to be grateful to her.' 'Very fairly put,' said one, and Socrates resumed, 'The lady is profiting this moment by the praise she receives from us, and when we spread the tale abroad she will gain a further advantage. But, as for ourselves we are beginning to have a desire to touch what we have just now seen: when we are going away we shall feel the smart, and after we have[140] gone we shall still long for her. So we may reasonably say that it is we who are the servitors, and that she accepts our service.' Thereupon Theodot: 'Well, if that is so, it would be only proper for me to thank you for coming to see me.' Afterwards Socrates noticed that the lady herself was expensively arrayed, and that her mother's dress (for her mother was in the room) and general appearance was by no means humble. There were a number of comely maidens also in attendance, showing little signs of neglect in their attire, and in all respects the household was luxuriously arranged.
'Tell me, Theodot,' said he, 'have you any land of your own?'
'I have not,' she replied.
'Well, then, I suppose your household brings you in a good income.'
'No, I have not a house.'
'Have you a factory, then?'
'No, not a factory either.'
'How then do you get what you need?'
'When I find a friend, and he is kind enough to help me, then my livelihood is assured.'
'By our lady, that is a fine thing to have. A flock of friends is far better than a flock of sheep, or goats, or oxen. But do you leave it to chance whether friends are to wing their way towards you like flies, or do you use some mechanical device?'
'Why, how could I find any device in this matter?'
'Surely, it would be much more appropriate for you than for spiders. You know how they hunt for their living. They weave gossamer webs, I believe, and anything that comes their way they take for food.'
'Do you advise me, then, to weave a hunting net?'
'No, no. You must not suppose that it is such a simple matter to catch that noble animal, a lover. Have you not noticed that even to catch such a humble thing as a hare people use many devices? Knowing that hares are night-feeders, they provide themselves with night-dogs, and use them in the chase. Furthermore, as the creatures run off at daybreak, they get other dogs to scent them out and find which way they go from their feeding ground to their forms. Again, they are swift-footed, so that they can get away in an open race, and a third class of dogs is provided to catch them in their tracks. Lastly, inasmuch as some escape even from the dogs, men set nets in their runs, so that they may fall into the meshes and be caught.'
'But what sort of contrivance should I use in hunting for lovers?'
'A man, of course, to take the place of the dog; some one able to track out and discover wealthy amateurs for you; able also to find ways of getting them into your nets.'
'Nets, forsooth! What sort of nets have I?'
'One you have certainly, close enfolding and well constructed, your body. And within your body there is your heart, which teaches you the looks that charm and the words that please. It tells you to welcome true friends with a smile, and to lock out overbearing gallants; when your beloved is sick, to tend him with anxious care; when he is prospering, to share his joy; in fine, to surrender all your soul to a devout lover. I am sure you know full well how to love. Love needs a tender heart as well as soft arms. I am sure, too, that you convince your lovers of your affection not by mere phrases, but by acts of love.'
'Nay, nay, I do not use any artificial devices.'
'Well, it makes a great difference if you approach a man in the natural and proper way. You will not catch or keep a lover by force. He is a creature who can only be captured and kept constant by kindness and pleasure.'
'That is true.'
'You should only ask then of your well-wishers such services as will cost them little to render, and you should requite them with favours of the same sort. Thereby you will secure their fervent and constant love, and they will be your benefactors indeed. You will charm them most if you never surrender except when they are sharp set. You have noticed that the daintiest fare, if served before a man wants it, is apt to seem insipid; while, if he is already sated, it even produces a feeling of nausea. Create a feeling of hunger before you serve your banquet; then even humble food will appear sweet.'
'How can I create this hunger in my friends?'
'First, never serve them when they are sated. Never suggest it even. Wait until the feeling of repletion has quite disappeared and they begin again to be sharp set. Even then at first let your suggestions be only of most modest conversation. Seem not to wish to yield. Fly from them---and fly again; until they feel the pinch of hunger. That is your moment. The gift is the same as when a man desired it not; but wondrous different now its value.'
Theodot: 'Why do you not join me in the hunt, and help me to catch lovers?'
'I will, certainly,' said he, 'if you can persuade me to come.'
'Nay, how can I do that?'
'You must look yourself, and find a way if you want me.'
'Come to my house, then, often.'
Then Socrates, jesting at his own indifference to business, replied:
'It is no easy matter for me to take a holiday. I am always kept busy by my private and public work. Moreover, I have my lady friends, who will never let me leave them night or day. They would always be having me teach them love-charms and incantations.'
'What, do you know that, too?'
'Why, what else is the reason, think you, that Apollodorus and Antisthenes never leave my side? Why have Cebes and Simmias come all the way from Thebes to stay with me? You may be quite sure that not without love-charms and incantations and magic wheels may this be brought about.'
'Lend me your wheel, then, that I may use it on you.'
'Nay, I do not want to be drawn to you. I want you to come to me.'
'Well, I will come. But be sure and be at home.'
'I will be at home to you, unless there be some lady with me who is dearer even than yourself.'
