Thereupon some members of the party called on Critobulus to accept the meed of victory in kisses (due from boy and girl); others urged him first to bribe their master; whilst others bandied other jests. Amidst the general hilarity Hermogenes alone kept silence.
Whereat Socrates turned to the silent man, and thus accosted him: Hermogenes, what is a drunken brawl? Can you explain to us?
He answered: If you ask me what it is, I do not know, but I can tell you what it seems to me to be.
Soc. That seems as good. What does it seem?
Her. A drunken brawl, in my poor judgment, is annoyance caused to people over wine.
Soc. Are you aware that you at present are annoying us by silence?
Her. What, whilst you are talking?
Soc. No, when we pause a while.
Her. Then you have not observed that, as to any interval between your talk, a man would find it hard to insert a hair, much more one grain of sense.
Then Socrates: O Callias, to the rescue! help a man severely handled by his cross-examiner.