An original translation
When we went in, we found Protagoras walking around the portico. Walking beside him on one side were Callias the son of Hipponicus, Paralus (his half-brother on his mother’s side and the son of Pericles), and Charmides the son of Glaucon; on the other were Xanthippus the other son of Pericles, and Philippides the son of Philomelus, and also Antimoirus from Mende who has the best reputation among Protagoras’ students and is learning the trade and planning to become a sophist. Others followed behind, listening to the conversation. Many of these were clearly foreigners – Protagoras gathers them from every town he passes through, charming them with his voice like Orpheus so that they follow the voice in a trance. There were also some locals in this chorus. I really enjoyed watching them: they took such wonderful care not to get in front into Protagoras’ way, when he and his companions turned around. Each time, the hangers-on neatly split into two groups on either side, and they wheeled around in a circle and formed up again to the rear beautifully.
Then I beheld him, as Homer puts it – Hippias from Elis, sitting on a chair opposite the portico. On benches around him sat Eryximachus the son of Acumenus, Phaedrus from Myrrhinous, Andron the son of Androtion, and some foreigners, from Elis and elsewhere. They appeared to be asking Hippias about nature and heavenly bodies, and he, sitting in judgment on his throne, was dispensing thorough answers to all of their questions.
And then I saw Tantalus, so to speak – Prodicus from Ceos as it turned out was also in town. He was put up in a room Hipponicus used to use as a storeroom. Callias had emptied it out and converted it into a room for his lodgers since there were so many of them. Prodicus was still lying down, and it looked like he was bundled up under a pile of covers and bedspreads. Sitting around him on nearby couches were Pausanias from Cerameis, and, with him, a youngster I thought was pretty well-brought up – well, pretty, at any rate. I thought I heard that his name was Agathon, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was Pausanias’ boy-toy. This young fellow was there, and so were both the Adeimantuses, Cepis’ son and Leucolophides’, and some others.