2
Timotheus replied, “You must realise, Harmonides, that it is no small thing that you’re in love with—praise and reputation, distinction and being known to the public—, but if you wanted to achieve this by way of giving demonstrations before large crowds it would be a long business, and not even then will you be known to everyone. Where would you find a theatre or stadium big enough to play to all the Greeks? But I’ll suggest a way of becoming known to them and attaining your hopes in all their fullness: play the pipe sometimes in theatres as well yet take but little notice of the crowd. This is the easiest short cut to a reputation. For if you choose only the best of Greece and of these just the few at the top, men of undisputed genius and reliable judgment, if, I say, you show off your pipe-pieces to them and they praise you, then you can think yourself a man of repute in the eyes of all the Greeks after this short trial. Do you see what my plan does for you? Suppose that those whom everyone knows and admires recognise that you are a piper of ability, then you can ignore the crowd—they will always follow men of superior judgment. This great mass doesn’t recognise quality for itself—most of them are low, vulgar fellows—but when acclaim is won from men of standing, they all believe it is due and reasonable, and they too will acclaim. The truth, you see, is that even when watching competitions plenty of spectators know how to clap at the end and hiss, but judgment is the prerogative of the odd half dozen.”
3
Harmonides did not have time to carry out these instructions. The story goes that during his first attempt at winning the pipe competition, his competitive blowing was so keen that he blew his last breath on his pipe and died on the stage uncrowned: his one Dionysiac performance was his first and his last.
