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ION;
OR, OF THE ILIAD.
Translated from Plato.
Socrates and Ion.
Socrates. Hail to thee, O Ion! from whence returnest thou amongst us now?—from thine own native Ephesus?
Ion. No, Socrates; I come from Epidaurus and the feasts in honour of Æsculapius.
Socrates. Had the Epidaurians instituted a contest of rhapsody in honour of the God?
Ion. And not in rhapsodies alone; there were contests in every species of music.
Socrates. And in which did you contend? And what was the success of your efforts?
Ion. I bore away the first prize at the games, O Socrates.
Socrates. Well done! You have now only to consider how you shall win the Panathenæa.
Ion. That may also happen, God willing.
Socrates. Your profession, O Ion, has often appeared to me an enviable one. For, together with the nicest care of your person, and the most studied elegance of dress, it imposes upon you the necessity of a familiar
