按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
attracting other rings； and sometimes you may see a number of pieces
of iron and rings suspended from one another so as to form quite a
long chain： and all of them derive their power of suspension from
the original stone。 In like manner the Muse first of all inspires
men herself； and from these inspired persons a chain of other
persons is suspended； who take the inspiration。 For all good poets；
epic as well as lyric； compose their beautiful poems not by art； but
because they are inspired and possessed。 And as the Corybantian
revellers when they dance are not in their right mind； so the lyric
poets are not in their right mind when they are composing their
beautiful strains： but when falling under the power of music and metre
they are inspired and possessed； like Bacchic maidens who draw milk
and honey from the rivers when they are under the influence of
Dionysus but not when they are in their right mind。 And the soul of
the lyric poet does the same； as they themselves say； for they tell us
that they bring songs from honeyed fountains； culling them out of
the gardens and dells of the Muses； they； like the bees； winging their
way from flower to flower。 And this is true。 For the poet is a light
and winged and holy thing； and there is no invention in him until he
has been inspired and is out of his senses； and the mind is no
longer in him： when he has not attained to this state； he is powerless
and is unable to utter his oracles。
Many are the noble words in which poets speak concerning the actions
of men； but like yourself when speaking about Homer； they do not speak
of them by any rules of art： they are simply inspired to utter that to
which the Muse impels them； and that only； and when inspired； one of
them will make dithyrambs； another hymns of praise； another choral
strains； another epic or iambic verses… and he who is good at one is
not good any other kind of verse： for not by art does the poet sing；
but by power divine。 Had he learned by rules of art； he would have
known how to speak not of one theme only； but of all； and therefore
God takes away the minds of poets； and uses them as his ministers；
as he also uses diviners and holy prophets； in order that we who
hear them may know them to be speaking not of themselves who utter
these priceless words in a state of unconsciousness； but that God
himself is the speaker； and that through them he is conversing with
us。 And Tynnichus the Chalcidian affords a striking instance of what I
am saying： he wrote nothing that any one would care to remember but
the famous paean which； in every one's mouth； one of the finest
poems ever written； simply an invention of the Muses； as he himself
says。 For in this way； the God would seem to indicate to us and not
allow us to doubt that these beautiful poems are not human； or the
work of man； but divine and the work of God； and that the poets are
only the interpreters of the Gods by whom they are severally
possessed。 Was not this the lesson which the God intended to teach
when by the mouth of the worst of poets he sang the best of songs？
Am I not right； Ion？
Ion。 Yes； indeed； Socrates； I feel that you are； for your words
touch my soul； and I am persuaded that good poets by a divine
inspiration interpret the things of the Gods to us。
Soc。 And you rhapsodists are the interpreters of the poets？
Ion。 There again you are right。
Soc。 Then you are the interpreters of interpreters？
Ion。 Precisely。
Soc。 I wish you would frankly tell me； Ion； what I am going to ask
of you： When you produce the greatest effect upon the audience in
the recitation of some striking passage； such as the apparition of
Odysseus leaping forth on the floor； recognized by the suitors and
casting his arrows at his feet； or the description of Achilles rushing
at Hector； or the sorrows of Andromache； Hecuba； or Priam；… are you in
your right mind？ Are you not carried out of yourself； and does not
your soul in an ecstasy seem to be among the persons or places of
which you are speaking； whether they are in Ithaca or in Troy or
whatever may be the scene of the poem？
Ion。 That proof strikes home to me； Socrates。 For I must frankly
confess that at the tale of pity； my eyes are filled with tears； and
when I speak of horrors； my hair stands on end and my heart throbs。
Soc。 Well； Ion； and what are we to say of a man who at a sacrifice
or festival； when he is dressed in holiday attire and has golden
crowns upon his head； of which nobody has robbed him； appears sweeping
or panic…stricken in the presence of more than twenty thousand
friendly faces； when there is no one despoiling or wronging him；… is
he in his right mind or is he not？
Ion。 No indeed； Socrates； I must say that； strictly speaking； he
is not in his right mind。
Soc。 And are you aware that you produce similar effects on most
spectators？
Ion。 Only too well； for I look down upon them from the stage； and
behold the various emotions of pity； wonder； sternness； stamped upon
their countenances when I am speaking： and I am obliged to give my
very best attention to them； for if I make them cry I myself shall
laugh； and if I make them laugh I myself shall cry when the time of
payment arrives。
Soc。 Do you know that the spectator is the last of the rings
which； as I am saying； receive the power of the original magnet from
one another？ The rhapsode like yourself and the actor are intermediate
links； and the poet himself is the first of them。 Through all these
the God sways the souls of men in any direction which he pleases；
and makes one man hang down from another。 Thus there is a vast chain
of dancers and masters and undermasters of choruses； who are
suspended； as if from the stone； at the side of the rings which hang
down from the Muse。 And every poet has some Muse from whom he is
suspended； and by whom he is said to be possessed； which is nearly the
same thing； for he is taken hold of。 And from these first rings； which
are the poets； depend others； some deriving their inspiration from
Orpheus； others from Musaeus； but the greater number are possessed and
held by Homer。 Of whom； Ion； you are one； and are possessed by
Homer； and when any one repeats the words of another poet you go to
sleep； and know not what to say； but when any one recites a strain
of Homer you wake up in a moment； and your soul leaps within you；
and you have plenty to say； for not by art or knowledge about Homer do
you say what you say； but by divine inspiration and by possession；
just as the Corybantian revellers too have a quick perception of
that strain only which is appropriated to the God by whom they are
possessed； and have plenty of dances and words for that； but take no
heed of any other。 And you； Ion； when the name of Homer is mentioned
have plenty to say； and have nothing to say of others。 You ask； 〃Why
is this？〃 The answer is that you praise Homer not by art but by divine
inspiration。
Ion。 That is good； Socrates； and yet I doubt whether you will ever
have eloquence enough to persuade me that I praise Homer only when I
am mad and possessed； and if you could hear me speak of him I am
sure you would never think this to be the case。
Soc。 I should like very much to hear you； but not until you have
answered a question which I have to ask。 On what part of Homer do
you speak well？… not surely about every part。
Ion。 There is no part； Socrates； about which I do not speak well
of that I can assure you。
Soc。 Surely not about things in Homer of which you have no
knowledge？
Ion。 And what is there in Homer of which I have no knowledge？
Soc。 Why； does not Homer speak in many passages about arts？ For
example； about driving； if I can only remember the lines I will repeat
them。
Ion。 I remember； and will repeat them。
Soc。 Tell me then； what Nestor says to Antilochus； his son； where he
bids him be careful of the turn at the horse…race in honour of
Patroclus。
Ion。 He says：
Bend gently in the polished chariot to the left of them； and urge
the horse on the right hand with whip and voice； and slacken the rein。
And when you are at the goal； let the left horse draw near； yet so
that the nave of the well…wrought wheel may not even seem to touch the
extremity； and avoid catching the stone。
Soc。 Enough。 Now； Ion； will the charioteer or the physician be the
better judge of the propriety of these lines？
Ion。 The charioteer； clearly。
Soc。 And will the reason be that this is his art； or will there be
any other reason？
Ion。 No； that will be the reason。
Soc。 And every art is appointed by God to have knowledge of a
certain work； for that which we know by the art of the pilot we do not
know by the art of medicine？
Ion。 Certainly not。
Soc。 Nor do we know by the art of the carpenter that which we know
by the art of medicine？
Ion。 Certainly not。
Soc。 And this is true of all the arts；… that which we know with
one ar