You seem to me far more extraordinary, Socrates, now that you have begun to speak, than before, when you followed me about in silence; though even then you looked strange enough. Well, as to my intending all this or not, you have apparently made your decision, and any denial of mine will not avail me to persuade you. Very good: but supposing I have intended ever so much what you say, how are you the sole means through which I can hope to attain it? Can you tell me?
Are you asking whether I can make a long speech, such as you are used to hearing? No, my gift is not of that sort. But I fancy I could prove to you that the case is so, if you will consent to do me just one little service.
Why, if you mean a service that is not troublesome, I consent.
Do you consider it troublesome to answer questions put to you?
No, I do not.
Then answer.
Ask.
Well, you have the intentions which I say you have, I suppose?
Be it so, if you like, in order that I may know what you will say next.
Now then: you intend, as I say, to come forward as adviser to the Athenians in no great space of time; well, suppose I were to take hold of you as you were about to ascend the platform, and were to ask you: Alcibiades, on what subject do the Athenians propose to take advice, that you should stand up to advise them? Is it something about which you have better knowledge than they? What would be your reply?
I should say, I suppose, it was something about which I knew better than they.
Then you are a good adviser on things about which you actually know.
To be sure.
And you know only the things you have learnt from others or discovered yourself?
What could I know besides?
And can it be that you would ever have learnt or discovered anything without being willing either to learn it or to inquire into it yourself?
No.
Well then, would you have been willing to inquire into or learn what you thought you knew?
No, indeed.
So there was a time when you did not think that you knew what you now actually know.
There must have been.
Well, but I know pretty nearly the things that you have learnt: tell me if anything has escaped me. You learnt, if I recollect, writing and harping and wrestling; as for fluting, you refused to learn it. These are the things that you know, unless perhaps there is something you have been learning unobserved by me; and this you were not, I believe, if you so much as stepped out of doors either by night or by day.
No, I have taken no other lessons than those.
Then tell me, will it be when the Athenians are taking advice how they are to do their writing correctly that you are to stand up and advise them?
Upon my word, not I.
Well, about strokes on the lyre?
Not at all.
Nor in fact are they accustomed to deliberate on throws in wrestling either at the Assembly.
No, to be sure.
Then what will be the subject of the advice? For I presume it will not be about building.
No, indeed.
For a builder will give better advice than you in that matter.
Yes.
Nor yet will it be about divination?
No.
For there again a diviner will serve better than you.
Yes.
Whether he be short or tall, handsome or ugly, nay, noble or ignoble.
Of course.
For on each subject the advice comes from one who knows, not one who has riches.
Of course.
And whether their mentor be poor or rich will make no difference to the Athenians when they deliberate for the health of the citizens; all that they require of their counsellor is that he be a physician.
Naturally.
Then what will they have under consideration if you are to be right in standing up, when you do so, as their counsellor?
Their own affairs, Socrates.
Do you mean with regard to shipbuilding, and the question as to what sort of ships they ought to get built?
No, I do not, Socrates.
Because, I imagine, you do not understand shipbuilding. Is that, and that alone, the reason?
That is just the reason.
Well, on what sort of affairs of their own do you mean that they will be deliberating?
On war, Socrates, or on peace, or on any other of the state’s affairs.
Do you mean that they will be deliberating with whom they ought to make peace, and on whom they ought to make war, and in what manner?
Yes.
And on whom it is better to do so, ought they not?
Yes.
And at such time as it is better?
Certainly.
And for so long as they had better?
Yes.
Now if the Athenians should deliberate with whom they should wrestle close, and with whom only at arm’s length, and in what manner, would you or the wrestling-master be the better adviser?
The wrestling-master, I presume.
And can you tell me what the wrestling-master would have in view when he advised as to the persons with whom they ought or ought not to wrestle close, and when and in what manner? What I mean is something like this: ought they not to wrestle close with those with whom it is better to do so?
Yes.
And so far as is better, too?
So far.
And at such time also as is better?
Certainly.
But again, when one sings, one has sometimes to accompany the song with harping and stepping?
Yes, one has.
And at such time as is better?
Yes.
And so far as is better?
I agree.
Well now, since you applied the term better to the two cases of harping for accompaniment of a song and close wrestling, what do you call the better in the case of harping, to correspond with what in the case of wrestling I call gymnastic? What do you call the other?
I do not understand.
Well, try to copy me: for my answer gave you, I think, what is correct in every instance; and that is correct, I presume, which proceeds by rule of the art, is it not?
Yes.
And was not the art here gymnastic?
To be sure.
And I said that the better Socrates means by better or the better way the general method of attaining excellence in any art. in the case of wrestling was gymnastic.
You did.
And I was quite fair?
I think so.
Come then, in your turn—for it would befit you also, I fancy, to argue fairly Socrates here repeats καλῶς (which means handsomely as well as correctly) in allusion to Alcibiades’ good looks. Cf. Plat. Alc.1 113b—tell me, first, what is the art which includes harping and singing and treading the measure correctly? What is it called as a whole? You cannot yet tell me?
No, indeed.
Well, try another way: who are the goddesses that foster the art?
The Muses, you mean, Socrates?
I do. Now, just think, and say by what name the art is called after them.
Music, Music with the Greeks included poetry and dancing as well as our music. I suppose you mean.
Yes, I do. And what is that which proceeds correctly by its rule? As in the other case I was correct in mentioning to you gymnastic as that which goes by the art, so I ask you, accordingly, what you say in this case. What manner of proceeding is required?
A musical one, I suppose.
You are right. Come then, what is it that you term better, in respect of what is better in waging war and being at peace? Just as in our other instances you said that the better implied the more musical and again, in the parallel case, the more gymnastical, try now if you can tell me what is the better in this case.