ΦΑΙ. «περὶ μὲν τῶν ἐμῶν πραγμάτων ἐπίστασαι, καὶ ὡς νομίζω συμφέρειν ἡμῖν τούτων γενομένων, ἀκήκοας. ἀξιῶ δὲ μὴ διὰ τοῦτο ἀτυχῆσαι ὧν δέομαι, ὅτι οὐκ ἐραστὴς ὢν σοῦ τυγχάνω. ὡς ἐκείνοις μὲν τότε μεταμέλει ὧν ἂν εὖ ποιήσωσιν, ἐπειδὰν τῆς ἐπιθυμίας παύσωνται·» —
ΣΩ. ἦ πολλοῦ δεῖν ἔοικε ποιεῖν ὅδε γε ὃ ζητοῦμεν, ὃς οὐδὲ ἀπʼ ἀρχῆς ἀλλʼ ἀπὸ τελευτῆς ἐξ ὑπτίας ἀνάπαλιν διανεῖν ἐπιχειρεῖ τὸν λόγον, καὶ ἄρχεται ἀφʼ ὧν πεπαυμένος ἂν ἤδη ὁ ἐραστὴς λέγοι πρὸς τὰ παιδικά. ἢ οὐδὲν εἶπον, Φαῖδρε, φίλη κεφαλή;
ΦΑΙ. ἔστιν γέ τοι δή, ὦ Σώκρατες, τελευτή, περὶ οὗ τὸν λόγον ποιεῖται.
ΣΩ. τί δὲ τἆλλα; οὐ χύδην δοκεῖ βεβλῆσθαι τὰ τοῦ λόγου; ἢ φαίνεται τὸ δεύτερον εἰρημένον ἔκ τινος ἀνάγκης δεύτερον δεῖν τεθῆναι, ἤ τι ἄλλο τῶν ῥηθέντων; ἐμοὶ μὲν γὰρ ἔδοξεν, ὡς μηδὲν εἰδότι, οὐκ ἀγεννῶς τὸ ἐπιὸν εἰρῆσθαι τῷ γράφοντι· σὺ δʼ ἔχεις τινὰ ἀνάγκην λογογραφικὴν ᾗ ταῦτα ἐκεῖνος οὕτως ἐφεξῆς παρʼ ἄλληλα ἔθηκεν;
ΦΑΙ. χρηστὸς εἶ, ὅτι με ἡγῇ ἱκανὸν εἶναι τὰ ἐκείνου οὕτως ἀκριβῶς διιδεῖν.
ΣΩ. ἀλλὰ τόδε γε οἶμαί σε φάναι ἄν, δεῖν πάντα λόγον ὥσπερ ζῷον συνεστάναι σῶμά τι ἔχοντα αὐτὸν αὑτοῦ, ὥστε μήτε ἀκέφαλον εἶναι μήτε ἄπουν, ἀλλὰ μέσα τε ἔχειν καὶ ἄκρα, πρέποντα ἀλλήλοις καὶ τῷ ὅλῳ γεγραμμένα.
ΦΑΙ. πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
ΣΩ. σκέψαι τοίνυν τὸν τοῦ ἑταίρου σου λόγον εἴτε οὕτως εἴτε ἄλλως ἔχει, καὶ εὑρήσεις τοῦ ἐπιγράμματος οὐδὲν διαφέροντα, ὃ Μίδᾳ τῷ Φρυγί φασίν τινες ἐπιγεγράφθαι.
ΦΑΙ. ποῖον τοῦτο, καὶ τί πεπονθός;
ΣΩ. ἔστι μὲν τοῦτο τόδε— χαλκῆ παρθένος εἰμί, Μίδα δʼ ἐπὶ σήματι κεῖμαι. / ὄφρʼ ἂν ὕδωρ τε νάῃ καὶ δένδρεα μακρὰ τεθήλῃ, / αὐτοῦ τῇδε μένουσα πολυκλαύτου ἐπὶ τύμβου, / ἀγγελέω παριοῦσι Μίδας ὅτι τῇδε τέθαπται. / ὅτι δʼ οὐδὲν διαφέρει αὐτοῦ πρῶτον ἢ ὕστατόν τι λέγεσθαι, ἐννοεῖς που, ὡς ἐγᾦμαι.
ΦΑΙ. σκώπτεις τὸν λόγον ἡμῶν, ὦ Σώκρατες.
ΣΩ. τοῦτον μὲν τοίνυν, ἵνα μὴ σὺ ἄχθῃ, ἐάσωμεν— καίτοι συχνά γε ἔχειν μοι δοκεῖ παραδείγματα πρὸς ἅ τις βλέπων ὀνίναιτʼ ἄν, μιμεῖσθαι αὐτὰ ἐπιχειρῶν μὴ πάνυ τι— εἰς δὲ τοὺς ἑτέρους λόγους ἴωμεν. ἦν γάρ τι ἐν αὐτοῖς, ὡς δοκῶ, προσῆκον ἰδεῖν τοῖς βουλομένοις περὶ λόγων σκοπεῖν.
Phaedrus. You know what my condition is, and you have heard how I think it is to our advantage to arrange these matters. And I claim that I ought not to be refused what I ask because I am not your lover. For lovers repent of the kindnesses they have done when their passion ceases.
Socrates. He certainly does not at all seem to do what we demand, for he does not even begin at the beginning, but undertakes to swim on his back up the current of his discourse from its end, and begins with what the lover would say at the end to his beloved. Am I not right, Phaedrus my dear?
Phaedrus. Certainly that of which he speaks is an ending.
Socrates. And how about the rest? Don’t you think the parts of the discourse are thrown out helter-skelter? Or does it seem to you that the second topic had to be put second for any cogent reason, or that any of the other things he says are so placed? It seemed to me, who am wholly ignorant, that the writer uttered boldly whatever occurred to him. Do you know any rhetorical reason why he arranged his topics in this order?
Phaedrus. You flatter me in thinking that I can discern his motives so accurately.
Socrates. But I do think you will agree to this, that every discourse must be organized, like a living being, with a body of its own, as it were, so as not to be headless or footless, but to have a middle and members, composed in fitting relation to each other and to the whole.
Phaedrus. Certainly.
Socrates. See then whether this is the case with your friend’s discourse, or not. You will find that it is very like the inscription that some say is inscribed on the tomb of Midas the Phrygian.
Phaedrus. What sort of inscription is that, and what is the matter with it?
Socrates. This is it: A bronze maiden am I; and I am placed upon the tomb of Midas. So long as water runs and tall trees put forth leaves, Remaining in this very spot upon a much lamented tomb, I shall declare to passers by that Midas is buried here; and you perceive, I fancy, that it makes no difference whether any line of it is put first or last.
Phaedrus. You are making fun of our discourse, Socrates.
Socrates. Then, to spare your feelings, let us say no more of this discourse—and yet I think there were many things in it which would be useful examples to consider, though not exactly to imitate—and let us turn to the other discourses; for there was in them, I think, something which those who wish to investigate rhetoric might well examine.
ΦΑΙ. τὸ ποῖον δὴ λέγεις;
ΣΩ. ἐναντίω που ἤστην· ὁ μὲν γὰρ ὡς τῷ ἐρῶντι, ὁ δʼ ὡς τῷ μὴ δεῖ χαρίζεσθαι, ἐλεγέτην.
ΦΑΙ. καὶ μάλʼ ἀνδρικῶς.
ΣΩ. ὤιμην σε τἀληθὲς ἐρεῖν, ὅτι μανικῶς· ὃ μέντοι ἐζήτουν ἐστὶν αὐτὸ τοῦτο. μανίαν γάρ τινα ἐφήσαμεν εἶναι τὸν ἔρωτα. ἦ γάρ;
ΦΑΙ. ναί.
ΣΩ. μανίας δέ γε εἴδη δύο, τὴν μὲν ὑπὸ νοσημάτων ἀνθρωπίνων, τὴν δὲ ὑπὸ θείας ἐξαλλαγῆς τῶν εἰωθότων νομίμων γιγνομένην.
ΦΑΙ. πάνυ γε.
ΣΩ. τῆς δὲ θείας τεττάρων θεῶν τέτταρα μέρη διελόμενοι, μαντικὴν μὲν ἐπίπνοιαν Ἀπόλλωνος θέντες, Διονύσου δὲ τελεστικήν, Μουσῶν δʼ αὖ ποιητικήν, τετάρτην δὲ ἀφροδίτης καὶ Ἔρωτος, ἐρωτικὴν μανίαν ἐφήσαμέν τε ἀρίστην εἶναι, καὶ οὐκ οἶδʼ ὅπῃ τὸ ἐρωτικὸν πάθος ἀπεικάζοντες, ἴσως μὲν ἀληθοῦς τινος ἐφαπτόμενοι, τάχα δʼ ἂν καὶ ἄλλοσε παραφερόμενοι, κεράσαντες οὐ παντάπασιν ἀπίθανον λόγον, μυθικόν τινα ὕμνον προσεπαίσαμεν μετρίως τε καὶ εὐφήμως τὸν ἐμόν τε καὶ σὸν δεσπότην ἔρωτα, ὦ Φαῖδρε, καλῶν παίδων ἔφορον.
ΦΑΙ. καὶ μάλα ἔμοιγε οὐκ ἀηδῶς ἀκοῦσαι.
ΣΩ. τόδε τοίνυν αὐτόθεν λάβωμεν, ὡς ἀπὸ τοῦ ψέγειν πρὸς τὸ ἐπαινεῖν ἔσχεν ὁ λόγος μεταβῆναι.
ΦΑΙ. πῶς δὴ οὖν αὐτὸ λέγεις;
ΣΩ. ἐμοὶ μὲν φαίνεται τὰ μὲν ἄλλα τῷ ὄντι παιδιᾷ πεπαῖσθαι· τούτων δέ τινων ἐκ τύχης ῥηθέντων δυοῖν εἰδοῖν, εἰ αὐτοῖν τὴν δύναμιν τέχνῃ λαβεῖν δύναιτό τις, οὐκ ἄχαρι.
ΦΑΙ. τίνων δή;
ΣΩ. εἰς μίαν τε ἰδέαν συνορῶντα ἄγειν τὰ πολλαχῇ διεσπαρμένα, ἵνα ἕκαστον ὁριζόμενος δῆλον ποιῇ περὶ οὗ ἂν ἀεὶ διδάσκειν ἐθέλῃ. ὥσπερ τὰ νυνδὴ περὶ Ἔρωτος—ὃ ἔστιν ὁρισθέν—εἴτʼ εὖ εἴτε κακῶς ἐλέχθη, τὸ γοῦν σαφὲς καὶ τὸ αὐτὸ αὑτῷ ὁμολογούμενον διὰ ταῦτα ἔσχεν εἰπεῖν ὁ λόγος.
ΦΑΙ. τὸ δʼ ἕτερον δὴ εἶδος τί λέγεις, ὦ Σώκρατες;
Phaedrus. What do you mean?
Socrates. The two discourses were opposites; for one maintained that the lover, and the other that the non-lover, should be favored.
Phaedrus. And they did it right manfully.
Socrates. I thought you were going to speak the truth and say “madly”; however, that is just what I had in mind. We said that love was a kind of madness, did we not?
Phaedrus. Yes.
Socrates. And that there are two kinds of madness, one arising from human diseases, and the other from a divine release from the customary habits.
Phaedrus. Certainly.
Socrates. And we made four divisions of the divine madness, ascribing them to four gods, saying that prophecy was inspired by Apollo, the mystic madness by Dionysus, the poetic by the Muses, and the madness of love, inspired by Aphrodite and Eros, we said was the best. We described the passion of love in some sort of figurative manner, expressing some truth, perhaps, and perhaps being led away in another direction, and after composing a somewhat plausible discourse, we chanted a sportive and mythic hymn in meet and pious strain to the honor of your lord and mine, Phaedrus, Love, the guardian of beautiful boys.
Phaedrus. Yes, and I found it very pleasant to hear.
Socrates. Here let us take up this point and see how the discourse succeeded in passing from blame to praise.
Phaedrus. What do you mean?
Socrates. It seems to me that the discourse was, as a whole, really sportive jest; but in these chance utterances were involved two principles, the essence of which it would be gratifying to learn, if art could teach it.
Phaedrus. What principles?
Socrates. That of perceiving and bringing together in one idea the scattered particulars, that one may make clear by definition the particular thing which he wishes to explain; just as now, in speaking of Love, we said what he is and defined it, whether well or ill. Certainly by this means the discourse acquired clearness and consistency.
Phaedrus. And what is the other principle, Socrates?
ΣΩ. τὸ πάλιν κατʼ εἴδη δύνασθαι διατέμνειν κατʼ ἄρθρα ᾗ πέφυκεν, καὶ μὴ ἐπιχειρεῖν καταγνύναι μέρος μηδέν, κακοῦ μαγείρου τρόπῳ χρώμενον· ἀλλʼ ὥσπερ ἄρτι τὼ λόγω τὸ μὲν ἄφρον τῆς διανοίας ἕν τι κοινῇ εἶδος ἐλαβέτην, ὥσπερ δὲ σώματος ἐξ ἑνὸς διπλᾶ καὶ ὁμώνυμα πέφυκε, σκαιά, τὰ δὲ δεξιὰ κληθέντα, οὕτω καὶ τὸ τῆς παρανοίας ὡς ἓν ἐν ἡμῖν πεφυκὸς εἶδος ἡγησαμένω τὼ λόγω, ὁ μὲν τὸ ἐπʼ ἀριστερὰ τεμνόμενος μέρος, πάλιν τοῦτο τέμνων οὐκ ἐπανῆκεν πρὶν ἐν αὐτοῖς ἐφευρὼν ὀνομαζόμενον σκαιόν τινα ἔρωτα ἐλοιδόρησεν μάλʼ ἐν δίκῃ, ὁ δʼ εἰς τὰ ἐν δεξιᾷ τῆς μανίας ἀγαγὼν ἡμᾶς, ὁμώνυμον μὲν ἐκείνῳ, θεῖον δʼ αὖ τινα ἔρωτα ἐφευρὼν καὶ προτεινάμενος ἐπῄνεσεν ὡς μεγίστων αἴτιον ἡμῖν ἀγαθῶν.
ΦΑΙ. ἀληθέστατα λέγεις.
ΣΩ. τούτων δὴ ἔγωγε αὐτός τε ἐραστής, ὦ Φαῖδρε, τῶν διαιρέσεων καὶ συναγωγῶν, ἵνα οἷός τε ὦ λέγειν τε καὶ φρονεῖν· ἐάν τέ τινʼ ἄλλον ἡγήσωμαι δυνατὸν εἰς ἓν καὶ ἐπὶ πολλὰ πεφυκόθʼ ὁρᾶν, τοῦτον διώκω «κατόπισθε μετʼ ἴχνιον ὥστε θεοῖο.» καὶ μέντοι καὶ τοὺς δυναμένους αὐτὸ δρᾶν εἰ μὲν ὀρθῶς ἢ μὴ προσαγορεύω, θεὸς οἶδε, καλῶ δὲ οὖν μέχρι τοῦδε διαλεκτικούς. τὰ δὲ νῦν παρὰ σοῦ τε καὶ Λυσίου μαθόντας εἰπὲ τί χρὴ καλεῖν· ἢ τοῦτο ἐκεῖνό ἐστιν ἡ λόγων τέχνη, ᾗ Θρασύμαχός τε καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι χρώμενοι σοφοὶ μὲν αὐτοὶ λέγειν γεγόνασιν, ἄλλους τε ποιοῦσιν, οἳ ἂν δωροφορεῖν αὐτοῖς ὡς βασιλεῦσιν ἐθέλωσιν;
ΦΑΙ. βασιλικοὶ μὲν ἇνδρες, οὐ μὲν δὴ ἐπιστήμονές γε ὧν ἐρωτᾷς. ἀλλὰ τοῦτο μὲν τὸ εἶδος ὀρθῶς ἔμοιγε δοκεῖς καλεῖν, διαλεκτικὸν καλῶν· τὸ δὲ ῥητορικὸν δοκεῖ μοι διαφεύγειν ἔθʼ ἡμᾶς.
ΣΩ. πῶς φῄς; καλόν πού τι ἂν εἴη, ὃ τούτων ἀπολειφθὲν ὅμως τέχνῃ λαμβάνεται; πάντως δʼ οὐκ ἀτιμαστέον αὐτὸ σοί τε καὶ ἐμοί, λεκτέον δὲ τί μέντοι καὶ ἔστι τὸ λειπόμενον τῆς ῥητορικῆς.
ΦΑΙ. καὶ μάλα που συχνά, ὦ Σώκρατες, τά γʼ ἐν τοῖς βιβλίοις τοῖς περὶ λόγων τέχνης γεγραμμένοις.
ΣΩ. [καὶ] καλῶς γε ὑπέμνησας. προοίμιον μὲν οἶμαι πρῶτον ὡς δεῖ τοῦ λόγου λέγεσθαι ἐν ἀρχῇ· ταῦτα λέγεις —ἦ γάρ; —τὰ κομψὰ τῆς τέχνης;
ΦΑΙ. ναί.
ΣΩ. δεύτερον δὲ δὴ διήγησίν τινα μαρτυρίας τʼ ἐπʼ αὐτῇ, τρίτον τεκμήρια, τέταρτον εἰκότα· καὶ πίστωσιν οἶμαι καὶ ἐπιπίστωσιν λέγειν τόν γε βέλτιστον λογοδαίδαλον Βυζάντιον ἄνδρα.
ΦΑΙ. τὸν χρηστὸν λέγεις Θεόδωρον;
Socrates. That of dividing things again by classes, where the natural joints are, and not trying to break any part, after the manner of a bad carver. As our two discourses just now assumed one common principle, unreason, and then, just as the body, which is one, is naturally divisible into two, right and left, with parts called by the same names, so our two discourses conceived of madness as naturally one principle within us, and one discourse, cutting off the left-hand part, continued to divide this until it found among its parts a sort of left-handed love, which it very justly reviled, but the other discourse, leading us to the right-hand part of madness, found a love having the same name as the first, but divine, which it held up to view and praised as the author of our greatest blessings.
Phaedrus. Very true.
Socrates. Now I myself, Phaedrus, am a lover of these processes of division and bringing together, as aids to speech and thought; and if I think any other man is able to see things that can naturally be collected into one and divided into many, him I follow after and walk in his footsteps as if he were a god. / ὃ δ’ ἔπειτα μετ’ ἴχνια βαῖνε θεοῖο, and he walked in the footsteps of the god. And whether the name I give to those who can do this is right or wrong, God knows, but I have called them hitherto dialecticians. But tell me now what name to give to those who are taught by you and Lysias, or is this that art of speech by means of which Thrasymachus and the rest have become able speakers themselves, and make others so, if they are willing to pay them royal tribute?
Phaedrus. They are royal men, but not trained in the matters about which you ask. I think you give this method the right name when you call it dialectic; but it seems to me that rhetoric still escapes us.
Socrates. What do you mean? Can there be anything of importance, which is not included in these processes and yet comes under the head of art? Certainly you and I must not neglect it, but must say what it is that remains of rhetoric.
Phaedrus. A great many things remain, Socrates, the things that are written in the books on rhetoric.
Socrates. Thank you for reminding me. You mean that there must be an introduction first, at the beginning of the discourse; these are the things you mean, are they not?—the niceties of the art.
Phaedrus. Yes.
Socrates. And the narrative must come second with the testimony after it, and third the proofs, and fourth the probabilities; and confirmation and further confirmation are mentioned, I believe, by the man from Byzantium, that most excellent artist in words.
Phaedrus. You mean the worthy Theodorus?
ΣΩ. τί μήν; καὶ ἔλεγχόν γε καὶ ἐπεξέλεγχον ὡς ποιητέον ἐν κατηγορίᾳ τε καὶ ἀπολογίᾳ. τὸν δὲ κάλλιστον Πάριον Εὐηνὸν ἐς μέσον οὐκ ἄγομεν, ὃς ὑποδήλωσίν τε πρῶτος ηὗρεν καὶ παρεπαίνους—οἱ δʼ αὐτὸν καὶ παραψόγους φασὶν ἐν μέτρῳ λέγειν μνήμης χάριν—σοφὸς γὰρ ἁνήρ. Τεισίαν δὲ Γοργίαν τε ἐάσομεν εὕδειν, οἳ πρὸ τῶν ἀληθῶν τὰ εἰκότα εἶδον ὡς τιμητέα μᾶλλον, τά τε αὖ σμικρὰ μεγάλα καὶ τὰ μεγάλα σμικρὰ φαίνεσθαι ποιοῦσιν διὰ ῥώμην λόγου, καινά τε ἀρχαίως τά τʼ ἐναντία καινῶς, συντομίαν τε λόγων καὶ ἄπειρα μήκη περὶ πάντων ἀνηῦρον; ταῦτα δὲ ἀκούων ποτέ μου Πρόδικος ἐγέλασεν, καὶ μόνος αὐτὸς ηὑρηκέναι ἔφη ὧν δεῖ λόγων τέχνην· δεῖν δὲ οὔτε μακρῶν οὔτε βραχέων ἀλλὰ μετρίων.
ΦΑΙ. σοφώτατά γε, ὦ Πρόδικε.
ΣΩ. Ἱππίαν δὲ οὐ λέγομεν; οἶμαι γὰρ ἂν σύμψηφον αὐτῷ καὶ τὸν Ἠλεῖον ξένον γενέσθαι.
ΦΑΙ. τί δʼ οὔ;
ΣΩ. τὰ δὲ Πώλου πῶς φράσωμεν αὖ μουσεῖα λόγων—ὡς διπλασιολογίαν καὶ γνωμολογίαν καὶ εἰκονολογίαν—ὀνομάτων τε Λικυμνίων ἃ ἐκείνῳ ἐδωρήσατο πρὸς ποίησιν εὐεπείας;
ΦΑΙ. Πρωταγόρεια δέ, ὦ Σώκρατες, οὐκ ἦν μέντοι τοιαῦτʼ ἄττα;
ΣΩ. ὀρθοέπειά γέ τις, ὦ παῖ, καὶ ἄλλα πολλὰ καὶ καλά. τῶν γε μὴν οἰκτρογόων ἐπὶ γῆρας καὶ πενίαν ἑλκομένων λόγων κεκρατηκέναι τέχνῃ μοι φαίνεται τὸ τοῦ Χαλκηδονίου σθένος, ὀργίσαι τε αὖ πολλοὺς ἅμα δεινὸς ἁνὴρ γέγονεν, καὶ πάλιν ὠργισμένοις ἐπᾴδων κηλεῖν, ὡς ἔφη· διαβάλλειν τε καὶ ἀπολύσασθαι διαβολὰς ὁθενδὴ κράτιστος. τὸ δὲ δὴ τέλος τῶν λόγων κοινῇ πᾶσιν ἔοικε συνδεδογμένον εἶναι, ᾧ τινες μὲν ἐπάνοδον, ἄλλοι δʼ ἄλλο τίθενται ὄνομα.
ΦΑΙ. τὸ ἐν κεφαλαίῳ ἕκαστα λέγεις ὑπομνῆσαι ἐπὶ τελευτῆς τοὺς ἀκούοντας περὶ τῶν εἰρημένων;
ΣΩ. ταῦτα λέγω, καὶ εἴ τι σὺ ἄλλο ἔχεις εἰπεῖν λόγων τέχνης πέρι.
ΦΑΙ. σμικρά γε καὶ οὐκ ἄξια λέγειν.
Socrates. Of course. And he tells how refutation and further refutation must be accomplished, both in accusation and in defence. Shall we not bring the illustrious Parian, Evenus, into our discussion, who invented covert allusion and indirect praises? And some say that he also wrote indirect censures, composing them in verse as an aid to memory; for he is a clever man. And shall we leave Gorgias and Tisias undisturbed, who saw that probabilities are more to be esteemed than truths, who make small things seem great and great things small by the power of their words, and new things old and old things the reverse, and who invented conciseness of speech and measureless length on all subjects? And once when Prodicus heard these inventions, he laughed, and said that he alone had discovered the art of proper speech, that discourses should be neither long nor short, but of reasonable length.
Phaedrus. O Prodicus! How clever!
Socrates. And shall we not mention Hippias, our friend from Elis? I think he would agree with him.
Phaedrus. Oh yes.
Socrates. And what shall we say of Polus and his shrines of learned speech, such as duplication and sententiousness and figurativeness, and what of the names with which Licymnius presented him to effect beautiful diction?
Phaedrus. Were there not some similar inventions of Protagoras, Socrates?
Socrates. Yes, my boy, correctness of diction, and many other fine things. For tearful speeches, to arouse pity for old age and poverty, I think the precepts of the mighty Chalcedonian hold the palm, and he is also a genius, as he said, at rousing large companies to wrath, and soothing them again by his charms when they are angry, and most powerful in devising and abolishing calumnies on any grounds whatsoever. But all seem to be in agreement concerning the conclusion of discourses, which some call recapitulation, while others give it some other name.
Phaedrus. You mean making a summary of the points of the speech at the end of it, so as to remind the hearers of what has been said?
Socrates. These are the things I mean, these and anything else you can mention concerned with the art of rhetoric.
Phaedrus. There are only little things, not worth mentioning.
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