"I will transfer it to the most beautiful," rejoined the philosopher; and he attempted to place the garland on the brow of Alcibiades. But the young man prevented him, and exclaimed, "Nay—according to your own doctrines, O admirable Plato, wisdom should wear the crown; since beauty is but its outward form."
Thus urged, Plato accepted the honours of the banquet; and taking a handful of garlands from the golden urn on which they were suspended, he proceeded to crown the guests. He first placed upon Aspasia's head a wreath of bright and variegated flowers, among which the rose and the myrtle were most conspicuous. Upon Hipparete he bestowed a coronal of violets, regarded by the proud Athenians as their own peculiar flower. Philothea received a crown of pure white lilies.
Aspasia, observing this, exclaimed, "Tell me, O Plato, how you knew that wreath, above all the others, was woven for the grand-daughter of Anaxagoras?"
"When I hear a note of music, can I not at once strike its chord?" answered the philosopher: "Even as surely is there an everlasting harmony between the soul of man and the visible forms of creation. If there were no innocent hearts, there would be no white lilies."
A shadow passed over Aspasia's expressive countenance; for she was aware that her own brilliant wreath contained not one purely white blossom. But her features had been well-trained to conceal her sentiments; and her usual vivacity instantly returned.
The remainder of the garlands were bestowed so rapidly, that there seemed scarcely time for deliberate choice; yet Pericles wore the oak leaves sacred to Zeus; and the laurel and olive of Phœbus rested on the brow of Phidias.
A half mischievous smile played round Aspasia's lips, when she saw the wreath of ivy and grape leaves placed on the head of Alcibiades. "Son of Aristo," she exclaimed, "the Phœnician Magii have given you good skill in divination. You have bestowed every garland appropriately."
"It needed little magic," replied Plato, "to know that the oaken leaves belonged to one whose eloquence is so often called Olympian; or that the laurel was due to him who fashioned Pallas Parthenia; and Alcibiades would no doubt contend boldly with any man who professed to worship the god of vineyards with more zeal than himself."
The gay Athenian answered this challenge by singing part of an Anacreontic ode, often repeated during the festivities of the Dionysia:
"To-day I'll haste to quaff my wine,
As if to-morrow ne'er should shine;
But if to-morrow comes, why then—
I'll haste to quaff my wine again.For death may come with brow unpleasant—
May come when least we wish him present,
And beckon to the sable shore,
And grimly bid us—drink no more!"