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Updated: June 29, 2025
It was a young man leaning against a tree trunk. On his arm he held a baby. "It is a model of the great marble Hermes in the temple of Hera, my little master," said the image maker. "Great Praxiteles made that one, poor Philo made this one." "It is beautiful," said Charmides and turned away, holding it tenderly in his hand. Glaucon waited a moment to pay for the figure.
"I have been indiscreet," said Charmides, "but I feel somehow in a rebellious mood; and indeed it has long seemed absurd to me that you should be unaware of the fact, and so obviously guileless! But I will speak no more of this to-day.
"I kept that news for a surprise," laughed Creon. "Good-by, little one," he said to Charmides, and pushed through the crowd. Menon sat down trembling. If his boy should win in the pentathlon also! That would be too great glory. It could not happen. He began to mutter a hundred prayers. Another race was called the double race, twice around the course. But Menon did not stand to see it.
"This, friends, is my praise of Socrates. I have added my blame of him for his ill treatment of me; and he has ill treated not only me, but Charmides, the son of Glaucon, and Euthydemus, the son of Diocles, and many others in the same way beginning as their lover, he has ended by making them pay their addresses to him.
And there they were at the side of the road, showing their tricks and begging for coins. One man was walking on his hands and tossing a ball about with his feet. Another was swallowing a sword. "Stop, Glaucon!" cried Charmides, "I must see him. He will kill himself." "No, my little master," replied the slave. "You shall see him again at Olympia. See your father. He would be vexed if we waited."
He had the works of Telephanes of Sicyon, Cleanthes, Ardices of Corinth, Hygiemon, Deinias, Charmides, Eumarus, and Cimon, some being simple drawings, and others paintings in various colours or monochromes. It was even said that Candaules had not disdained to wield with his own royal hands a thing hardly becoming a prince the chisel of the sculptor and the sponge of the encaustic painter.
Sweet smoke was curling upward, and the room rang with a hymn. As Charmides gazed into the solemn face, a strange light quivered about it, and the boy's heart shook with awe. The words of Homer sprang to his lips: "Zeus bowed his head. The divine hair streamed back from the kindly brows, and great Olympos quaked."
Cynthia is much more sensible, but Lucius is a nuisance, and Charmides, by the way, has become absurdly jealous of him. They really are very silly; but I have a pleasant plot, which I will unfold to you." As we went down the interminable stairs, I said to Amroth, "There is a question I want to ask you.
And he himself had seen so many of his efforts come to nothing: Alcibiades play the traitor; Critias and Charmides, the bloody tyrant; he had seen many he had labored for frustrate his labors; he had seen Athens fallen. He had done all he could, quietly, unfailingly and without any fuss; now it was time for him to go. But going, he might yet strike one more great blow for the Light.
"'Tutemet a nobis iam quovis tempore vatum terriloquis victus dictis desciscere quaeres. But I must be prudent. I saw somebody watching your house on the other side of the street. If I am caught they will think I belong to the accursed sect too. Farewell." "The morning came, and about an hour after Charmides had risen two soldiers presented themselves.
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