Chapter II — The Tears Wiped Away

The Text

Chapter II

'But the time,' said she, 'calls rather for healing than for lamentation.' Then, with her eyes bent full upon me, 'Art thou that man,' she cries, 'who, erstwhile fed with the milk and reared upon the nourishment which is mine to give, had grown up to the full vigour of a manly spirit? And yet I had bestowed such armour on thee as would have proved an invincible defence, hadst thou not first cast it away. Dost thou know me? Why art thou silent? Is it shame or amazement that hath struck thee dumb? Would it were shame; but, as I see, a stupor hath seized upon thee.' Then, when she saw me not only answering nothing, but mute and utterly incapable of speech, she gently touched my breast with her hand, and said: 'There is no danger; these are the symptoms of lethargy, the usual sickness of deluded minds. For awhile he has forgotten himself; he will easily recover his memory, if only he first recognises me. And that he may do so, let me now wipe his eyes that are clouded with a mist of mortal things.' Thereat, with a fold of her robe, she dried my eyes all swimming with tears.

Song IIIThe Mists dispelled.

Then the gloom of night was scattered, Sight returned unto mine eyes. So, when haply rainy Caurus Rolls the storm-clouds through the skies, Hidden is the sun; all heaven Is obscured in starless night. But if, in wild onset sweeping, Boreas frees day's prisoned light, All suddenly the radiant god outstreams, And strikes our dazzled eyesight with his beams.

Reading Guide

❧ What happens

Philosophy declares the time calls “rather for healing than for lamentation.” She fixes her eyes on him and asks: Art thou that man I once reared to full vigour of spirit, armed with an invincible defence — which you then threw away?

He cannot answer; he is mute, struck dumb. She touches his breast and gives her first verdict: this is lethargy, “the usual sickness of deluded minds.” He has forgotten himself. The cure begins simply — she wipes the mist of mortal cares from his eyes with a fold of her robe.

⚖ Why it matters

The diagnosis names the book's deepest theme: the disease is forgetfulness, and the cure is recollection. This is a Platonic idea — that we already possess the truth and must be reminded of it, not taught it from outside.

Notice the “armour” he cast away: philosophical conviction is a defence fortune cannot pierce — unless you drop it yourself. His ruin is real, but his despair is self-inflicted, a wound he opened by letting go of what he knew.

≣ Terms

Lethargy: Literally a drowsy forgetfulness (from Greek lēthē, oblivion). Here a sickness of the soul: the mind has fallen asleep to its own nature.
“The milk… reared upon the nourishment which is mine”: Philosophy speaks as his nurse and teacher from childhood — a relationship picked up again in Chapter III.

♪ Song III · The Mists Dispelled

A weather image: as the wind Caurus piles up storm-clouds that hide the sun, and then Boreas sweeps them away to loose the sudden dazzling light — so the gloom lifts from his mind and he can see his physician's face. The Song is the hinge between blindness and recognition, which arrives in the next chapter.