Well, do you suppose that at this point the adherents of Plato and Pythagoras and Epicurus and the rest will keep quiet, and not laugh out loud and say to me: “What is your friend Hermotimus doing, Lycinus? He thinks it right to believe what our opponents say about us, and supposes our views to be whatever they say they are, although they either are ignorant of the truth or conceal it. So, if he sees some athlete training before his match, kicking into the air, or punching at empty space as though he were striking his opponent, he will, if he is referee, straightway proclaim him as unbeatable, will he? Or will he consider these romps easy and devoid of risk when he has no antagonist, and adjudge him the winner only when he has overcome and beaten his opponent in the flesh and the latter gives in, and not otherwise? So do not let Hermotimus suppose from the shadow-boxing his teachers practise against us in our absence that they are strong or that our tenets are such as can be easily overthrown. For such a fabrication would be like the houses which children make: they have built them weak in structure and knock them over at once; or again indeed like men practising archery who make bundles of twigs, then fix them up on a pole which they set up at no great distance in front of them, and taking aim let fly. If ever they score a hit and pierce the twigs, they at once give a shout as though they have done something great, because their shaft has gone right through their collection of sticks. But this is not what the Persians do nor the Scythian archers. No, in the first place they themselves are usually on moving horses when they shoot, and secondly, they think that the targets should be moving too, not stationary and waiting for the impact of the shafts, but running about as fast as possible. They generally use wild animals as their targets, and some of them hit birds. If ever they want to test the impact of the shot on the target, they set up a hard-wood board or a raw-hide shield to pierce, and in that way they gain confidence that their arrows can even penetrate armour. So tell Hermotimus from us, Lycinus, that his teachers are setting up collections of sticks to shoot at and then saying that they have bested armed men; and that they are sparring with painted dummies which look like us, and when, as is natural, they have had the better of them they think they have the better of us. To them each of us would quote the words of Achilles about Hector:‘My helmet’s front they do not see.’” Homer, Il. xvi, 70.

This is what they all say, each in his turn, Plato, I fancy, would add one of those stories from Sicily (he knows most of them): Gelo of Syracuse is said to have had bad breath and to have been for a long time ignorant of the fact as no one dared to criticise a tyrant, until a certain foreign woman with whom he had to do dared to tell him how it was. He went to his wife in a rage because she had not told him, although she of all people knew of the bad odour. She begged him to pardon her, for, never having had experience of another man or having been at close quarters with one, she supposed that the mouths of all men had breath like that. “So, Hermotimus,” Plato might say, “since he mixes only with Stoics, naturally does not know what other people’s mouths are like.” Chrysippus could say the same or go even further, if I were to leave him unexamined and go over to Platonism, relying on one of those who had conversed with Plato alone. In short, then, I say that, as long as it is uncertain which creed of philosophy is true, choose none. For choice of one would be misconduct towards the others.

In Hestia’s name, Lycinus, let us leave Plato and Aristotle and Epicurus and the others undisturbed, for I am no match for them. Let us, you and me, enquire into it by ourselves, whether the pursuit of philosophy is as I say it is. As for Ethiopians and Gelo’s wife, why did you have to call her from Syracuse into the discussion?

Why, let them take themselves off, if they seem to you to be superfluous to the discussion. You do the talking now. You look as though you are going to say something wonderful.

It seems to me quite possible, Lycinus, by thorough study of the Stoic doctrines alone, to know the truth from them, even if one does not pursue those of the others and make a thorough study of them in detail. Look at it this way: if someone tells you merely that two twos make the number four, will you have to go about questioning all the other mathematicians to see if there may not perhaps be one of them who makes it five or seven? Or would you know at once that this man is speaking the truth?

At once, Hermotimus.

Why then does it seem to you to be impossible for a man when he meets only Stoics who speak the truth to believe them and have no further need of the others in his knowledge that four could never be five, even if thousands of Platos and Pythagorases say so?

That is not to the point at all, Hermotimus. You are comparing what is admitted to what is in dispute, although they differ enormously. Or what would you say? Have you met anyone who says that by putting together two twos he makes the number seven or eleven?

Not But anyone would be mad who said the answer was not four.

Well then, have you ever met (and by the Graces try to be truthful) any Stoic and Epicurean who did not differ about principles and ends?

In no way.

It seems to me, Lycinus, that you do not understand what I mean.

Then you must speak more clearly, if your argument is to be different from what I say.

There is no reason, if you really find it and once having found it you can know that that is what was missing, or if you can with certainty recognise the sacred object. But in this case, my friend, those first of all who go into the temple are not two, so that one of the two must have the loot, but very many; and secondly just what the missing object is is not clear—whether it is a chalice or a cup or a garland. All the priests give different accounts of it and do not agree even about the very stuff it is made of: some say it is of copper, others of silver, others of gold, yet others of tin. So you must strip all the visitors, if you want to find the missing article. For, if you find a golden chalice straightway on the first, you must nevertheless strip the others as well.

Why, Lycinus?

Because it is not clear that it was a chalice that was missing. And even if this be admitted by everyone, then they do not all agree that the chalice is golden. And if it is well known that a gold cup is missing, and you find a gold cup on the first man, you would not even so refrain from searching the rest—it would not be clear I suppose whether that was the one belonging to the god. Or do you not think that there are many chalices made of gold?