Did you find them different from the beautiful, he said, or the same as the beautiful? Here I was desperately perplexed, and felt that I had my deserts for the grunt I had made: however, I replied that they were different from the beautiful itself, though each of them had some beauty present with it. So if an ox is present with you, he said, you are an ox, and since I am now present with you, you are Dionysodorus. Heavens, do not say that! I cried. But in what way can one thing, by having a different thing present with it, be itself different? Are you at a loss there? I asked: already I was attempting to imitate the cleverness of these men, I was so eager to get it. Can I help being at a loss, he said, I and likewise everybody else in the world, in face of what cannot be? What is that you say, Dionysodorus? I asked: is not the beautiful beautiful, and the ugly ugly? Yes, if it seems so to me, he replied. Then does it seem so? Certainly, he said. Then the same also is the same, and the different different? For I presume the different cannot be the same; nay, I thought not even a child would doubt that the different is different. But, Dionysodorus, you have deliberately passed over this one point; though, on the whole, I feel that, like craftsmen finishing off each his special piece of work, you two are carrying out your disputation in excellent style. Well, he asked, do you know what is each craftsman’s special piece of work? First of all, whose proper task is it to forge brass? Can you tell? I can: a brazier’s. Well, again, whose to make pots? A potter’s. Once more, whose to slaughter and skin, and after cutting up the joints to stew and roast? A caterer’s, I said. Now, if one does one’s proper work, he said, one will do rightly? Yes, to be sure. And is it, as you say, the caterer’s proper work to cut up and skin? Did you admit this or not? I did so, I replied, but pray forgive me. It is clear then, he proceeded, that if someone slaughters the caterer and cuts him up, and then stews or roasts him, he will be doing his proper work; and if he hammers the brazier himself, and moulds the potter, he will be doing his business likewise. Poseidon! I exclaimed, there you give the finishing touch to your wisdom. I wonder if this skill could ever come to me in such manner as to be my very own. Would you recognize it, Socrates, he asked, if it came to be your own? Yes, if only you are agreeable, I replied, without a doubt. Why, he went on, do you imagine you perceive what is yours? Yes, if I take your meaning aright: for all my hopes arise from you, and end in Euthydemus here.The Greek works follow a usual form of prayer or hymn to the gods.