We now enter the narrative itself. There is first the famous and enigmatic trance which seizes Socrates at the front porch. We know it means something significant, yet we are for the time being denied all intent to interpret what the trance means as we are led with Appolodorus into Agathon’s house: we are still in this world and not yet ready to partake of things divine. Once all have entered Agathon’s house and reclined on their couch, the protagonists agree to dismiss the flute-player. The six orators, including Socrates, are now confined among themselves in a closed space: something important is about to take place. The flute-girl symbolizes the outside, chaotic world of passions being chased out and away from the inner confines of the soul as it is about to enter the mysteries of Love. The enclosed room is also the image of the well-ordered State safe within its walls and governed by just and temperate laws in which chaos has no part, leaving the citizens free to actualize the polis. We may even go as far as seeing in this assembly, to say something bold, an anticipation of the Church, an assembly of faithful who, through their gathering at a ritual feast, meet the divine Logos, creator of all things, Love itself. Wine, the cause of drunkeness, is for that reason consumed very moderately, if at all, and only reindulged in again at the end, when everything is thrown into confusion by the entrance of a band of revellers. The setting is now in good order with no unruly passion left. (1)