‘You should only ask then of your well-wishers such services as will cost them little to render, and you should requite them with favours of the same sort. Thereby you will secure their fervent and constant love, and they will be your benefactors indeed. You will charm them most if you never surrender except when they are sharp set. You have noticed that the daintiest fare, if served before a man wants it, is apt to seem insipid; while, if he is already sated, it even produces a feeling of nausea. Create a feeling of hunger before you serve your banquet; then even humble food will appear sweet.’
‘How can I create this hunger in my friends?’
‘First, never serve them when they are sated. Never suggest it even. Wait until the feeling of repletion has quite disappeared and they begin again to be sharp set. Even then at first let your suggestions be only of most modest conversation. Seem not to wish to yield. Fly from them—and fly again; until they feel the pinch of hunger. That is your moment. The gift is the same as when a man desired it not; but wondrous different now its value.’
Theodotë: ‘Why do you not join me in the hunt, and help me to catch lovers?’
‘I will, certainly,’ said he, ‘if you can persuade me to come.’
‘Nay, how can I do that?’
‘You must look yourself, and find a way if you want me.’
‘Come to my house, then, often.’
Then Socrates, jesting at his own indifference to business, replied: