Scene 1

1.1 The Agora, Athens

Philodemos: By Hellas! I did not expect to see you here, Socrates—and alone too! Art thou now bereft of friends in these dark times?

Socrates: Why not? The agora still remains open to all citizens of Athens and I am still a citizen of Athens—unless the Thirty have come out with some new and monstrous edict.

Philodemos: None that I know of—though their spartan hearts are not spartan with new rulings, laws and edicts. They are turning Athens upside down! Critias—your former pupil—is now first amongst them—and has a belly full of fire. The agora is brimming with rumours and whisperings but little that can be relied upon. The Thirty may have a tight grip on the city but not on mens minds and nor on their tongues: they are loose everywhere. But I came not to the agora looking for news and the rumour of news—I have had my fill of such news and can stomach no more. I came looking for you but with little hope of finding you here with the city in such a tumult.

Socrates: Well then—well met! I am not at the agora but merely passing through. A moment later and you will not have found me but the rumour of me; a moment

M. R. Ullah (B)

London, UK

e-mail: ullah.mozibur@googlemail.com © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2019

A. Aguirre et al. (eds.), What is Fundamental?, The Frontiers Collection, https://doi.org/10.1007/978- 3-030-11301-8_15 earlier—not even that. But nay, Philodemos—remind me not of pupils who abandon my teachings or press them into perverse service. Count a man well born when he born in a city with good laws—I fear our laws are being hollowed out. Critias, though he spoke of the people—like the bad poet he was—and still is—he was never for the people but rather thought and felt that the people were for him. That he is first amongst the Thirty surprises me not—in that company, he prospers—but I fear, Athens will not prosper.

Philodemos: Would that all my friends remain as fond! Friendships have now burst all bonds and men crawl amongst us with sharp eyes and sharper ears.

Socrates: But what then excites you—that you had need to speak to me? Has Alcibiades returned from the Persian court or Eubolus from Aegina? We have had no news from Eubolus and he is sore missed. There is no finer man in Athens. And I have need of news from Aegina for I have friends in Aegina—and my mind oft turns to them—city of my boyhood, city set like a gem beside the wide open sea and city of all my first loves.

Philodemos: Alcibiades has returned and Eubolus has stayed—that I can tell you—and no more. My heart has not been quickened today by either the words or the deeds of men but by that most auspicious of mistresses—thought itself. She that delights in that most ambrosial of liquids which lightens and quickens mens minds, that drives away the darkness in dark times. And today it is very dark though the sun overhead shines hot and bright. Socrates, I learnt of a most remarkable notion today—a notion that threw a great deal of light on discussions I have had with you and with others—and I hurried over to the agora hoping to find you here to tell you all about it and ask your own opinion of this.

Socrates: It must have been a most remarkable notion and a most remarkable speaker, I do not think I have seen you so excited before. But come, I was on my way to the house of Theaetatus the geometer. I am chasing the rumour of my nephew, Adeimantus, and I have good report that he was seen there. Come, we will speak there of it. It is always better to speak in company and in a house where one is sure of a good welcome.

Philodemos: Theaetatus is a good man and well-known. I saw him last at the Panathenea where he was first amongst those to pour out the libation to the goddess.

Socrates: A daimon must have whispered in his ear. He is generally a man that shuns the public festivals.

Philodemos: I have need of my own daimon so I can be assured of good advice. I have asked for advice amongst my friends and I find that I am first persuaded by one man of one opinion and then by another man of an opposing opinion until I end up bewildered and no longer know which way to turn.

Socrates: Not knowing is the beginning of wisdom though it often feels like the loss of the ground one is standing upon, the sky one is standing underneath and having been pitched into the full and tossing sea. It is a fools wisdom to stay there though—one must make a beginning—or rather, learn to swim.

Philodemos: By Zeus, you speak like a man who knows—and like a man who has learnt to swim.

Socrates: As a boy I learnt to swim and to dive, and though I saw the deeps, I did not sound the deeps. If there is one thing I have learnt in my long life, it is that knowing that one doesn’t know is a kind of knowledge. No doubt a man will come who will turn this into a method and a foundation but method I find a chore—chores that are better left to scribes who do little else but write and write and then read what they write. Writing is a chore and best done alone. I say it is better to speak and to speak amongst friends and sometimes amongst enemies. Our present times is a time for much speaking—a time for counsel, a time for speeches and a time for heroes. Athens must be gathered, or Athens will be lost.

Philodemos: Will thou goest soldiering amongst the people?

Socrates: I soldier with words—or rather ideas clothed in words. They are their better garb and sturdier for it. Ideas, unadorned are inarticulate and invisible. It is the rare man who will take notice of either, and far rarer still—of both. And then they go marching amongst mens minds taking hold of them—but hold... here is the house of Theaetetus and I see he is amongst friends.

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