And they used the actual word ‘laws,’
or nomoi, for another kind of song; and to this they
added the term ‘citharoedic.’ All
these and others were duly distinguished, nor were
the performers allowed to confuse one style of music
with another. And the authority which determined
and gave judgment, and punished the disobedient, was
not expressed in a hiss, nor in the most unmusical
shouts of the multitude, as in our days, nor in applause
and clapping of hands. But the directors of public
instruction insisted that the spectators should listen
in silence to the end; and boys and their tutors,
and the multitude in general, were kept quiet by a
hint from a stick. Such was the good order which
the multitude were willing to observe; they would
never have dared to give judgment by noisy cries.
And then, as time went on, the poets themselves introduced
the reign of vulgar and lawless innovation. They
were men of genius, but they had no perception of
what is just and lawful in music; raging like Bacchanals
and possessed with inordinate delights—mingling
lamentations with hymns, and paeans with dithyrambs;
imitating the sounds of the flute on the lyre, and
making one general confusion; ignorantly affirming
that music has no truth, and, whether good or bad,
can only be judged of rightly by the pleasure of the
hearer (compare Republic). And by composing such
licentious works, and adding to them words as licentious,
they have inspired the multitude with lawlessness
and boldness, and made them fancy that they can judge
for themselves about melody and song. And in this
way the theatres from being mute have become vocal,
as though they had understanding of good and bad in
music and poetry; and instead of an aristocracy, an
evil sort of theatrocracy has grown up (compare Arist.
Pol.). For if the democracy which judged had only
consisted of educated persons, no fatal harm would
have been done; but in music there first arose the
universal conceit of omniscience and general lawlessness;—
freedom came following afterwards, and men, fancying
that they knew what they did not know, had no longer
any fear, and the absence of fear begets shamelessness.
For what is this shamelessness, which is so evil a
thing, but the insolent refusal to regard the opinion
of the better by reason of an over-daring sort of
liberty?
Megillus: Very true.
Athenian: Consequent upon this freedom comes
the other freedom, of disobedience to rulers (compare
Republic); and then the attempt to escape the control
and exhortation of father, mother, elders, and when
near the end, the control of the laws also; and at
the very end there is the contempt of oaths and pledges,
and no regard at all for the Gods,—herein
they exhibit and imitate the old so-called Titanic
nature, and come to the same point as the Titans when
they rebelled against God, leading a life of endless
evils. But why have I said all this? I ask,
because the argument ought to be pulled up from time
to time, and not be allowed to run away, but held
with bit and bridle, and then we shall not, as the
proverb says, fall off our ass. Let us then once
more ask the question, To what end has all this been
said?