“Then I thought that beauty was more than wisdom.”
“Hush! some one is listening.”
“Who?”
“I, Lysander, the General,” answered a sharp voice, and the speaker stood in the middle of the room.
“Now I know you, Alcibiades, and I have your head under my arm, but I have the honour of Sparta under the other. Fly before I strangle you!”
“Your ears have deceived you, Lysander!”
“Fly! do us the kindness to fly! Fifty hoplites stand without, waiting for your head.”
“How many do you say? Fifty? Then I will fly, for I cannot overcome more than thirty. My queen! farewell! I have thought better of Sparta. This would never have happened in Athens. Now I go to the Persian King; there they understand better what is fitting, and there I shall not be obliged to eat black broth!”
Alcibiades sat with the Persian satrap Tissaphernes, and Alcibiades the eloquent spoke. “Yes, my teacher Protagoras taught me once, that everything is born from its opposite; therefore you see my heart can embrace all opposites. Sparta and Athens are both dear to me; that is to say, both hateful—the state—gods of the one, and the virtues of the other.”