Part 17 (2/2)

These ”Parasites” are regular characters in Athens, and no symposium is really complete without them, although often their fooleries cease to be amusing.[+]

[*]It is with such a white fib that the host Agathon salutes Aristodemus, Socrates's companion in Plato's ”Symposium.”

[+]Of these ”Parasites” or ”Flies” (as owing to their migratory habits they were sometimes called), countless stories were told, whereof the following is a sample: there was once a law in Athens that not over thirty guests were to be admitted to a marriage feast, and an officer was obliged to count all the guests and exclude the superfluous. A ”fly” thrust in on one occasion, and the officer said: ”Friend, you must retire. I find one more here than the law allows.” ”Dear fellow,” quoth the ”fly,” ”you are utterly mistaken, as you will find, if you kindly count again--only BEGINNING WITH ME.”

163. The Dinner Proper.--The Greeks have not antic.i.p.ated the Romans in their custom of making the standard dinner party nine persons on three couches,--three guests on each. Prodicus has about a dozen guests, two on a couch. They ”lie down” more or less side by side upon the cus.h.i.+oned divans, with their right arms resting on brightly striped pillows and the left arms free for eating. The slaves bring basis of water to wash their hands, and then beside each couch is set a small table, already garnished with the first course, and after the casting of a few bits of food upon the family hearth fire,--the conventional ”sacrifice” to the house G.o.ds,--the dinner begins.

Despite the elaborate preparations of the Sicilian cook, Prodicus offers his guests only two courses. The first consists of the substantial dishes--the fish, the vegetables, the meat (if there is any). Soups are not unknown, and had they been served might have been eaten with spoons; but Athens like all the world is innocent of forks, and fingers take their place. Each guest has a large piece of soft bread on which he wipes his fingers from time to time and presently casts it upon the floor.[*] When this first course is finished, the tables are all taken out to be reset, water is again poured over the hands of the guests, and garlands of flowers are pa.s.sed. The use of garlands is universal, and among the guests, old white headed and bearded Sosthenes will find nothing more undignified in putting himself beneath a huge wreath of lilies than an elderly gentleman of a later day will find in donning the ”conventional” dress suit. The conversation,--which was very scattering at first,--becomes more animated. A little wine is now pa.s.sed about. Then back come the tables with the second course--fruits, and various sweetmeats and confectionary with honey as the staple flavoring. Before this disappears a goblet of unmixed wine is pa.s.sed about, and everybody takes a sip: ”To the Good Genius,” they say as the cup goes round.

[*]Napkins were not used in Greece before Roman days.

164. Beginning the Symposium.--Prodicus at length gives a nod to the chief of his corps of servers.

”Bring in the wine!” he orders. The slaves promptly whisk out the tables and replace them with others still smaller, on which they set all kinds of gracefully shaped beakers and drinking bowls. More wreaths are distributed, also little bottles of delicate ointment.

While the guests are praising Prodicus's nard, the servants have brought in three huge ”mixing bowls” (”craters”) for the wines which are to furnish the main potation.

So far we have witnessed not a symposium, but merely a dinner; and many a proper party has broken up when the last of the dessert has disappeared; but, after all, the drinking bout is the real crown of the feast. It is not so much the wine as the things that go with the wine that are so delightful. As to what these desirable condiments are, opinions differ. Plato (who is by no means too much of a philosopher to be a real man of the world) says in his ”Protagoras” that mere conversation is ”the” thing at a symposium.

”When the company are real gentlemen and men of education, you will see no flute girls nor dancing girls nor harp girls; they will have no nonsense or games, but will be content with one another's conversation.”[*] But this ideal, though commended, is not always followed in decidedly intellectual circles. Zenophon[+] shows us a select party wherein Socrates partic.i.p.ated, in which the host has been fain to hire in a professional Syracusian entertainer with two a.s.sistants, a boy and a girl, who bring their performance to a climax by a very suggestive dumb-show play of the story of Bacchus and Ariadne. Prodicus's friends, being solid, somewhat pragmatic men--neither young sports nor philosophers--steer a middle course.

There is a flute girl present, because to have a good symposium without some music is almost unimaginable; but she is discreetly kept in the background.

[*]Plato again says (”Politicus,” 277 b), ”To intelligent persons, a living being is more truly delineated by language and discourse than by any painting or work of art.”

[+]In his ”Symposium”--which is far less perfect as literature than Plato's, but probably corresponds more to the average instance.

165. The Symposiarch and his Duties.--”Let's cast for our Symposiarch!”

is Prodicus's next order, and each guest in turn rattles the dice box. Tyche (Lady Fortune) gives the presidency of the feast to Eunapius, a bright-eyed, middle-aged man with a keen sense of humor, but a correct sense of good breeding. He a.s.sumes command of the symposium; takes the ordering of the servants out of Prodicus's hands, and orders the wine to be mixed in the craters with proper dilution. He then rises and pours out a libation from each bowl ”to the Olympian G.o.ds,” ”to the Heroes,” and ”to Zeus the Saviour,”

and casts a little incense upon the altar. The guests all sing a ”Paean,” not a warrior's charging song this time, but a short hymn in praise of the Wine-G.o.d, some lilting catch like Alcaeus's

In mighty flagons. .h.i.ther bring The deep red blood of many a vine, That we may largely quaff and sing The praises of the G.o.d of wine.

166. Conversation at the Symposium.--After this the symposium will proceed according to certain general rules which it is Eunaius's duty to enforce; but in the main a ”program” is something to be avoided. Everybody must feel himself acting spontaneously and freely.

He must try to take his part in the conversation and neither speak too seldom nor too little. It is not ”good form” for two guests to converse privately among themselves, nor for anybody to dwell on unpleasant or controversial topics. Aristophanes has laid down after his way the proper kind of things to talk about.[*] ”[Such as]'how Ephudion fought a fine pancratium with Ascondas though old and gray headed, but showing great form and muscle.' This is the talk usual among refined people [or again] 'some manly act of your youth; for example, how you chased a boar or a hare, or won a torch race by some bold device.' [Then when fairly settled at the feast]

straighten your knees and throw yourself in a graceful and easy manner upon the couch. Then make some observations upon the beauty of the appointments, look up at the ceiling and praise the tapestry of the room.”

[*] ”Wasps,” 1174-1564.

As the wine goes around, tongues loosen more and more. Everybody gesticulates in delightful southern gestures, but does not lose his inherent courtesy. The anecdotes told are often very egoistic.

The first personal p.r.o.noun is used extremely often, and ”I” becomes the hero of a great many exploits. The Athenian, in short, is an adept at praising himself with affected modesty, and his companions listen good-humoredly, and retaliate by praising themselves.

167. Games and Entertainments.--By the time the craters are one third emptied the general conversation is beginning to be broken up. It is time for various standard diversions. Eunapius therefore begins by enjoining on each guest in turn to sing a verse in which a certain letter must not appear, and in event of failure to pay some ludicrous forfeit. Thus the bald man is ordered to begin to comb his hair; the lame man (halt since the Mantinea campaign), to stand up and dance to the flute player, etc. There are all kinds of guessing of riddles--often very ingenious as become the possessors of ”Attic salt.” Another diversion is to compare every guest present to some mythical monster, a process which infallibly ends by getting the ”Parasite” likened to Cerberus, the Hydra, or some such dragon, amid the laughter of all the rest. At some point in the amus.e.m.e.nt the company is sure to get to singing songs:--”Scolia”--drinking songs indeed, but often of a serious moral or poetic character, whereof the oft-quoted song in praise of Harmodius and Aristogeiton the tyrant-slayers is a good example.[*] No ”gentleman” will profess to be a public singer, but to have a deep, well-trained voice, and to be able to take one's part in the symposium choruses is highly desirable, and some of the singing at Proicus's banquet is worth hearing.

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