There he is again, he said, answering more than he is asked. For I am not asking what the means is, but only whether you know by some means. Yes, I did again answer more than I ought, I said, through lack of education. But forgive me, and I will now simply reply that I know what I know by some means. By one and the same means always, he asked, or sometimes by one and sometimes by another? Always, whenever I know, I replied, it is by this means. There again, he cried, you really must stop adding these qualifications. But I am so afraid this word always may bring us to grief. Not us, he rejoined, but, if anyone, you. Now answer: do you know by this means always? Always, I, replied, since I must withdraw the whenever. Then you always know by this means: that being the case, do you know some things by this means of knowing, and some things by another means, or everything by this? Everything by this, I replied; everything, that is, that I know. There it comes again, he cried; the same qualification! Well, I withdraw my that is, that I know. No, do not withdraw a single word, he said: I ask you for no concession. Only answer me: could you know all things if you did not know everything? It would be most surprising, I said. Then he went on: You may therefore add on now whatever you please: for you admit that you know all things. It seems I do, I replied, seeing that my that I know has no force, and I know everything. Now you have also admitted that you know always by the means whereby you know, whenever you know—or however you like to put it. For you have admitted that you always know and, at the same time, everything. Hence it is clear that even as a child you knew, both when you were being born and when you were being conceived: and before you yourself came into being or heaven and earth existed, you knew all things, since you always know. Yes, and I declare, he said, you yourself will always know all things, if it be my pleasure. Oh, pray let it be your pleasure, I replied, most worshipful Euthydemus, if what you say is really true. Only I do not quite trust in your efficacy, if your pleasure is not to he also that of your brother here, Dionysodorus: if it is, you will probably prevail. And tell me, I went on, since I cannot hope in a general way to dispute the statement that I know everything with persons so prodigiously clever—since it is your statement—how am I to say I know certain things, Euthydemus; for instance, that good men are unjust? Come, tell me, do I know this or not? You know it certainly, he said. What? I said. That the good are not unjust.