[32,1] Ἆρά γε βούλοισθ´ ἄν, ὦ ἄνδρες, σπουδάσαι χρόνον σμικρὸν
καὶ προσέχειν; ἐπειδὴ παίζοντες ἀεὶ διατελεῖτε καὶ οὐ προσέχοντες καὶ παιδιᾶς
μὲν καὶ ἡδονῆς καὶ γέλωτος, ὡς εἰπεῖν, οὐδέποτε
ἀπορεῖτε· καὶ γὰρ αὐτοὶ γελοῖοί ἐστε καὶ ἡδεῖς καὶ διακόνους πολλοὺς τούτων
ἔχετε· σπουδῆς δὲ ὑμῖν τὴν πᾶσαν ἔνδειαν ὁρῶ οὖσαν. καίτοι τινὲς ἐπαινοῦσιν
ὑμᾶς ὡς σοφούς τε καὶ δεινούς, ὅτι
τοσαῦται μυριάδες ἀνθρώπων ἅμα καὶ τὰ δέοντα ἐννοεῖτε καὶ ταχὺ
φθέγγεσθε ὅ,τι ἂν ἐννοήσητε· ἐγὼ δὲ μᾶλλον ἂν ὑμᾶς ἐπῄνουν
βραδὺ μὲν φθεγγομένους, ἐγκρατῶς δὲ σιγῶντας, ὀρθῶς δὲ διανοουμένους, ὃ
καὶ νῦν ποιήσατε, ἵνα κτήσησθε πρὸς ἐκείνῳ τῷ ἐπαίνῳ
καινὸν ἕτερον μείζω τε καὶ σεμνότερον, ὅτι τοσοῦτοι ὄντες λόγων
χρησίμων γενομένων ἅπαντες ἐσιωπήσατε, καὶ πρὸς τούτῳ ἐδείξατε ὅτι οὐ
μόνον ἐστὲ ἱκανοὶ νοήσαντες εἰπεῖν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἀκούσαντες νοῆσαι. χοροῦ μὲν
γὰρ ἔπαινος τὸ ἅμα εἰπεῖν, μᾶλλον δὲ
οὐδὲ τούτου· τί γάρ, ἂν κοινῇ πάντες ἀποτυγχάνωσι τοῦ μέλους;
δήμου δὲ τὸ καλῶς ἀκοῦσαι. νῦν μὲν γὰρ ἁμαρτάνετε τὸ Ἀθηναίων ποτὲ
ἁμάρτημα. τοῦ γὰρ Ἀπόλλωνος εἰπόντος, εἰ θέλουσιν
ἄνδρας ἀγαθοὺς ἐν τῇ πόλει γενέσθαι, τὸ κάλλιστον ἐμβάλλειν
τοῖς ὠσὶ τῶν παίδων, οἱ δὲ τρήσαντες τὸ ἕτερον χρυσίον ἐνέβαλον,
οὐ συνέντες τοῦ θεοῦ. τοῦτο μὲν γὰρ κόραις μᾶλλον ἔπρεπε καὶ
παισὶ Λυδῶν ἢ Φρυγῶν· Ἑλλήνων δὲ παισί, καὶ ταῦτα θεοῦ προστάξαντος, οὐκ
ἄλλο ἥρμοζεν ἢ παιδεία καὶ λόγος, ὧν οἱ τυχόντες
εἰκότως {ἄν} ἄνδρες ἀγαθοὶ γίγνονται καὶ σωτῆρες τῶν πόλεων.
ἐκεῖνοι μὲν οὖν κακῶς ἐχρήσαντο τοῖς ὠσὶ τῶν παίδων, ὑμεῖς δὲ τοῖς
αὑτῶν κάκιον. δήμου γάρ ἐστιν ἀκοὴ τὸ θέατρον· εἰς τοῦτο δὲ
καλὸν μὲν ἢ τίμιον οὐδὲν ὑμῖν ἢ σπανίως ποτὲ εἰσέρχεται· κρουμάτων δὲ ἀεὶ
μεστόν ἐστι καὶ θορύβου καὶ βωμολοχίας καὶ σκωμμάτων οὐδὲν ἐοικότων χρυσῷ.
διὰ τοῦτο οὖν ὀρθῶς ἔφην ἀπορεῖν
ὑμᾶς σπουδῆς. οὔτε γὰρ αὐτοὶ σπουδαῖοί ἐστε οὔτε οἱ ὑμέτεροι
συνήθεις καὶ πολλάκις εἰς ὑμᾶς εἰσιόντες,
μῖμοί τ´ ὀρχησταί τε χοροιτυπίῃσιν ἄριστοι,
ἵππων τ´ ὠκυπόδων ἐπιβήτορες, οἵ τε τάχιστα
ἤγειραν μέγα νεῖκος ἀπαιδεύτοισι θεαταῖς,
νηπιάχοις, ξυνὸν δὲ κακὸν πολέεσσι φέρουσιν.
| [32,1] My friends, would you kindly be serious for a brief
while and give heed to my words ? For you are
forever being frivolous and heedless, and you are
practically never at a loss for fun-making and
enjoyment and laughter—indeed you yourselves are
naturally inclined to laughter and jollity, and you
have many who minister to such tendencies—but I
find in you a complete lack of seriousness. And yet
there are those who praise you for your wisdom and
cleverness, asserting that, although you assemble
here in thousands, you not only can conceive what is
fitting but at the same time are quick to put your conceptions
into words. But I for my part should prefer
to praise you as being slow to speak, indeed, and self-restrained
enough to keep silent, and yet correct of
judgement. Pray display these qualities now, in
order that you may acquire, in addition to that other
praise, new praise of a different nature, both greater
and more honourable—for having all become silent
in this great throng when useful counsel was being
given and, furthermore, for having shown that you
can not merely think before you speak but also listen
before you formulate your thought. For while it is
praising a chorus to say that they all speak the words
together in unison—or rather not even a chorus, for
what if all in common miss the tune ?—the highest
praise you can accord a mass-meeting is to say that
it listens well.
For nowadays, you know, you make the mistake
which the Athenians once made. I mean, when
Apollo said that, if they wished to have good men as
citizens, they should put that which was best into
the ears of their boys, they pierced one of the ears
of each and inserted a bit of gold, not understanding
what the god intended. In fact such an ornament
was suitable rather for girls and for sons of Lydians
and Phrygians, whereas for sons of Greeks, especially
since a god had given the command, nothing else
was suitable but education and reason, for it is
natural that those who get these blessings should
prove to be good men and saviours of the state.
The Athenians, as we see, made a bad use of the
ears of their sons, but you are making a worse use
of your own. For the organ of hearing of a people
is the theatre, and into your theatre there enters
nothing beautiful or honourable, or very rarely ;
but it is always full of the strumming of the lyre and
of uproar, buffoonery, and scurrility, things that bear
no resemblance to gold. For that reason, therefore,
I was right in saying that you lack seriousness ; for
neither are you yourselves serious, nor are they
serious with whom you are familiar, and who often
come before you in the guise of
"Both mimes and dancers plying nimble feet,
And men astride swift steeds, most apt to stir
Dire strife amid spectators crude—the fools !—
And bring a general ruin to multitudes".
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