Thank you, I said; and is there any teacher there?
Yes, he said, your old friend and admirer, Miccus.
Indeed, I replied; he is a very eminent professor.
Are you disposed, he said, to go with me and see them?
Yes, I said; but I should like to know first, what is expected of
me, and who is the favourite among you?
Some persons have one favourite, Socrates, and some another, he
said.
And who is yours? I asked: tell me that, Hippothales.
At this he blushed; and I said to him, O Hippothales, thou son of
Hieronymus! do not say that you are, or that you are not, in love; the
confession is too late; for I see that you are not only in love, but
are already far gone in your love. Simple and foolish as I am, the
Gods have given me the power of understanding affections of this kind.
Whereupon he blushed more and more.
Ctesippus said: I like to see you blushing, Hippothales, and
hesitating to tell Socrates the name; when, if he were with you but
for a very short time, you would have plagued him to death by
talking about nothing else. Indeed, Socrates, he has literally
deafened us, and stopped our ears with the praises of Lysis; and if he
is a little intoxicated, there is every likelihood that we may have
our sleep murdered with a cry of Lysis.
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