But if you now in truth possess this other knowledge, have mercy—you see I address you just as though you were a couple of gods, beseeching you to forgive my former remarks. But make sure, Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, that you spoke the truth: for the vastness of your promise gives me some excuse for disbelieving. You may be sure, Socrates, they replied, it is as we say. Then I congratulate you on your acquisition far more than I do the great king on his empire: only tell me whether you intend to exhibit this science of yours, or what you have determined to do. We are here for the very purpose, Socrates, of exhibiting and expounding it to anyone who wishes to learn. Well, I guarantee that all who do not possess it will wish to—myself to begin with, then Cleinias here and, besides us, Ctesippus and all these others, I said, showing him the lovers of Cleinias, who were by this time standing about us. For Ctesippus, as it happened, was sitting some way from Cleinias, I noticed; and by chance, as Euthydemus leant forward in talking to me he obscured Ctesipus’ view of Cleinias, who was between us. Then Ctesippus, desiring to gaze on his favorite and being also an eager listener, led the way by jumping up and placing himself opposite us; and this made the others, on seeing what he did, stand around us, both Cleinias’ lovers and the followers of Euthydemus and Dionysodorus. Pointing to these, I told Euthydemus that they were all ready to learn; to which Ctesippus assented with great eagerness, and so did the rest; and they all joined in urging the two men to exhibit the power of their wisdom. On this I remarked: My good Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, you must do your very best to gratify my friends and, for my sake also, to give us an exhibition. To do it in full, of course, would obviously be a lengthy performance: but tell me one thing—will you be able to make a good man of him only who is already convinced that he should learn of you, or of him also who is not yet so convinced, owing to an absolute disbelief that virtue is a thing that can be learnt or that you are teachers of it? Come now, is it the business of this same art to persuade such a man that virtue is teachable and that you are the men of whom one may best learn it, or does this need some other art? No, this same one can do it, Socrates, said Dionysodorus.

Then you two, Dionysodorus, I said, would be the best persons now on earth to incite one to the pursuit of knowledge and the practice of virtue? We think so, at least, Socrates.Well then, please defer the display of all the rest to some other occasion, I said, and exhibit this one thing. You are to persuade this young fellow here that he ought to ensue wisdom and practise virtue, and so you will oblige both me and all these present. This youth happens to be in just the sort of condition I speak of; and I and all of us here are at this moment anxious for him to become as good as possible. He is the son of Axiochus, son of the former Alcibiades,i.e. the famous Alcibiades, who died in 404 B.C. at the age of 44. The supposed time of this discussion must be a year or two before Socrates’ death (399 B.C.). and is own cousin to the Alcibiades that now is: his name is Cleinias. He is young; and so we have fears for him, as well one may for a young man, lest someone forestall us and turn his inclination to some other course of life, and so corrupt him. Hence your arrival now is most happy. Come now, if it is all the same to you, make trial of the lad and talk with him in our presence. When I had thus spoken, in almost these very words, Euthydemus answered in a tone both manly and dashing: Oh, it is all the same to us, Socrates, provided the youth is willing to answer us. Why, in fact, I said, that is just what he is used to: these people here are constantly coming to him and asking him a number of questions and debating with him, so he is a fairly fearless answerer. What ensued, Crito, how am I to relate in proper style? For no slight matter it is to be able to recall in description such enormous knowledge as theirs. Consequently, like the poets, I must needs begin my narrative with an invocation of the Muses and Memory. Well, Euthydemus set to work, so far as I remember, in terms very much the same as these: Cleinias, which sort of men are the learners, the wise or the foolish? At this the young man, feeling the embarrassment of the question, blushed and glanced at me in his helplessness. So I, perceiving his confusion, said: Have no fear, Cleinias; answer bravely, whichever you think it is: for perchance he is doing you the greatest service in the world. Meanwhile Dionysodorus leant over a little to me, with a broad smile on his face, and whispered in my ear: Let me tell you, Socrates, beforehand that, whichever way the lad answers, he will be confuted.

While he was saying this, Cleinias made his reply, so that I was unable even to advise the boy to be wary: he replied that it was the wise who were the learners. Then Euthydemus asked: And are there persons whom you call teachers, or not?He agreed that there were. And the teachers of the learners are teachers in the same way as your lute-master and your writing-master, I suppose, were teachers of you and the other boys, while you were pupils?He assented. Now, of course, when you were learning, you did not yet know the things you were learning?No, he said. So were you wise, when you did not know those things? No, to be sure, he said. Then if not wise, foolish? Certainly. So when you learnt what you did not know, you learnt while being foolish. To this the lad nodded assent. Hence it is the foolish who learn, Cleinias, and not the wise, as you suppose. When he had thus spoken, all those followers of Dionysodorus and Euthydemus raised a cheer and a laugh, like a chorus at the signal of their director; and before the boy could fairly and fully recover his breath Dionysodorus took up the cudgels and said: Well now, Cleinias, whenever your writing-master dictated from memory, which of the boys learnt the piece recited, the wise or the foolish? The wise, said Cleinias. So it is the wise who learn, and not the foolish: hence the answer you gave just now to Euthydemus was a bad one. Thereupon arose a great deal of laughter and loud applause from the pair’s adorers, in admiration of their cleverness; while we on our side were dismayed and held our peace. Then Euthydemus, observing our dismay, and seeking to astonish us still further, would not let the boy go, but went on questioning him and, like a skilful dancer, gave a twofold twist to his questions on the same point: Now, do the learners learn what they know, he asked, or what they do not? Then Dionysodorus whispered to me again softly: Here comes a second one, Socrates, just like the first. Heavens! I replied: surely the first question served you well enough. All our questions, Socrates, he said, are like that; they leave no escape. And consequently, as it seems to me, I remarked, you have this high repute among your disciples.