I swear, that unless you repeat the discourse here in the face of this very plane-tree, I will never tell you another; never let you have word of another!'
SOCRATES: Villain! I am conquered; the poor lover of discourse has no more to say.
PHAEDRUS: Then why are you still at your tricks?
SOCRATES: I am not going to play tricks now that you have taken the oath, for I cannot allow myself to be starved.
PHAEDRUS: Proceed.
SOCRATES: Shall I tell you what I will do?
PHAEDRUS: What?
SOCRATES: I will veil my face and gallop through the discourse as fast as I can, for if I see you I shall feel ashamed and not know what to say.
PHAEDRUS: Only go on and you may do anything else which you please.
SOCRATES: Come, O ye Muses, melodious, as ye are called, whether you have received this name from the character of your strains, or because the