In mighty flagons hither bring
  The deep red blood of many a vine,
That we may largely quaff and sing
  The praises of the God of wine.

166.  Conversation at the Symposium.—­After this the symposium will proceed according to certain general rules which it is Eunaius’s duty to enforce; but in the main a “program” is something to be avoided.  Everybody must feel himself acting spontaneously and freely.  He must try to take his part in the conversation and neither speak too seldom nor too little.  It is not “good form” for two guests to converse privately among themselves, nor for anybody to dwell on unpleasant or controversial topics.  Aristophanes has laid down after his way the proper kind of things to talk about.[*] “[Such as]’how Ephudion fought a fine pancratium with Ascondas though old and gray headed, but showing great form and muscle.’  This is the talk usual among refined people [or again] ’some manly act of your youth; for example, how you chased a boar or a hare, or won a torch race by some bold device.’ [Then when fairly settled at the feast] straighten your knees and throw yourself in a graceful and easy manner upon the couch.  Then make some observations upon the beauty of the appointments, look up at the ceiling and praise the tapestry of the room.”

[*] “Wasps,” 1174-1564.

As the wine goes around, tongues loosen more and more.  Everybody gesticulates in delightful southern gestures, but does not lose his inherent courtesy.  The anecdotes told are often very egoistic.  The first personal pronoun is used extremely often, and “I” becomes the hero of a great many exploits.  The Athenian, in short, is an adept at praising himself with affected modesty, and his companions listen good-humoredly, and retaliate by praising themselves.

167.  Games and Entertainments.—­By the time the craters are one third emptied the general conversation is beginning to be broken up.  It is time for various standard diversions.  Eunapius therefore begins by enjoining on each guest in turn to sing a verse in which a certain letter must not appear, and in event of failure to pay some ludicrous forfeit.  Thus the bald man is ordered to begin to comb his hair; the lame man (halt since the Mantinea campaign), to stand up and dance to the flute player, etc.  There are all kinds of guessing of riddles—­often very ingenious as become the possessors of “Attic salt.”  Another diversion is to compare every guest present to some mythical monster, a process which infallibly ends by getting the “Parasite” likened to Cerberus, the Hydra, or some such dragon, amid the laughter of all the rest.  At some point in the amusement the company is sure to get to singing songs:—­“Scolia”—­drinking songs indeed, but often of a serious moral or poetic character, whereof the oft-quoted song in praise of Harmodius and Aristogeiton the tyrant-slayers is a good example.[*] No “gentleman” will profess to be a public singer, but to have a deep, well-trained voice, and to be able to take one’s part in the symposium choruses is highly desirable, and some of the singing at Proicus’s banquet is worth hearing.