In Plato's Phaedrus, the charioteer drives two winged horses. One horse is white, upright, and clean-made, guided by word alone and needing no whip. The other is dark, thick-necked, and flat-faced, dragging the team toward the beloved. As the charioteer beholds the radiant figure before him, his memory is carried upward to the true beauty once seen on the rim of heaven. Struck with awe, he falls backward and hauls on the reins so hard that both winged horses drop down onto their haunches.