Euthydemus

Soc.

Certainly, I said: the former mine, the latter his. Then surely, he went on, Chaeredemus was other than father? Than mine, at any rate, I said. Why then, he was father while being other than father. Or are you the same as the stone?[*](Cf. Plat. Gorg. 494a, where the life of a stone is given as a proverbial example of a life without pleasure or pain.) I fear you may prove that of me, I said, though I do not feel like it. Then are you other than the stone? Other, I must say. Then of course, he went on, if you are other than stone, you are not stone? And if you are other than gold, you are not gold? Quite so. Hence Chaeredemus, he said, being other than father, cannot be father. It seems, I said, that he is not a father. No, for I presume, interposed Euthydemus, that if Chaeredemus is a father Sophroniscus in his turn, being other than a father, is not a father; so that you, Socrates, are fatherless. Here Ctesippus took it up, observing: And your father too, is he not in just the same plight? Is he other than my father? Not in the slightest, said Euthydemus. What, asked the other, is he the same? The same, to be sure. I should not like to think he was: but tell me, Euthydemus, is he my father only, or everybody else’s too? Everybody else’s too, he replied; or do you suppose that the same man, being a father, can be no father? I did suppose so, said Ctesippus. Well, said the other, and that a thing being gold could be not gold? Or being a man, not man? Perhaps, Euthydemus, said Ctesippus, you are knotting flax with cotton,[*](i.e. treating two different things as the same.) as they say: for it is a strange result that you state, if your father is father of all. He is, though, was the reply. Of all men, do you mean? asked Ctesippus, or of horses too, and all other animals? Of all, he said. And is your mother a mother in the same way? My mother too. And is your mother a mother of sea-urchins? Yes, and yours is also, he replied. So then you are a brother of the gudgeons and whelps and porkers. Yes, and so are you, he said. Then your father is a boar and a dog. And so is yours, he said. Yes, said Dionysodorus, and it will take you but a moment, if you will answer me, Ctesippus, to acknowledge all this. Just tell me, have you a dog? Yes, a real rogue, said Ctesippus. Has he got puppies? Yes, a set of rogues like him. Then is the dog their father? Yes, indeed; I saw him with my own eyes covering the bitch. Well now, is not the dog yours? Certainly, he said. Thus he is a father, and yours, and accordingly the dog turns out to be your father, and you a brother of whelps. Hereupon Dionysodorus struck in again quickly, lest Ctesippus should get a word in before him: Answer me just one more little point: do you beat this dog? Ctesippus laughed and said: My word, yes; since I cannot beat you! So you beat your own father? he said.

Soc.

There would be much more justice, though, he replied, in my beating yours, for being so ill-advised as to beget clever sons like you. Yet I doubt, Ctesippus went on, if your father, Euthydemus—the puppies’ father—has derived much good from this wisdom of yours. Why, he has no need of much good, Ctesippus, neither he nor you. And have you no need either, yourself, Euthydemus? he asked. No, nor has any other man. Just tell me, Ctesippus, whether you think it good for a sick man to drink physic when he wants it, or whether you consider it not good; or for a man to go to the wars with arms rather than without them. With them, I think, he replied: and yet I believe you are about to utter one of your pleasantries. You will gather that well enough, he said: only answer me. Since you admit that physic is good for a man to drink when necessary, surely one ought to drink this good thing as much as possible; and in such a case it will be well to pound and infuse in it a cart-load of hellebore? To this Ctesippus replied: Quite so, to be sure, Euthydemus, at any rate if the drinker is as big as the Delphian statue. Then, further, since in war, he proceeded, it is good to have arms, one ought to have as many spears and shields as possible, if we agree that it is a good thing? Yes, I suppose, said Ctesippus; and you, Euthydemus, do you take the other view, that it should be one shield and one spear? Yes, I do. What, he said, and would you arm Geryon also and Briareus[*](Two fabulous giants (Geryon had three, Briareus fifty, pairs of arms).) in this way? I thought you more of an expert than that, considering you are a man-at-arms, and your comrade here too! At this Euthydemus was silent; then Dionysodorus asked some questions on Ctesippus’ previous answers, saying: Well now, gold is in your opinion a good thing to have? Certainly, and—here I agree—plenty of it too, said Ctesippus. Well then, do you not think it right to have good things always and everywhere? Assuredly, he said. Then do you admit that gold is also a good? Why, I have admitted it, he replied. Then we ought always to have it, and everywhere, and above all, in oneself? And one will be happiest if one has three talents of gold in one’s belly, a talent in one’s skull, and a stater of gold in each eye? Well, Euthydemus, replied Ctesippus, they say that among the Scythians those are the happiest and best men who have a lot of gold in their own skulls—somewhat as you were saying a moment ago that dog is father; and a still more marvellous thing is told, how they drink out of their skulls when gilded, and gaze inside them, holding their own headpiece in their hands.

Soc.

Tell me, said Euthydemus, do the Scythians and men in general see things possible of sight, or things impossible? Possible, I presume. And you do so too? I too. Then you see our cloaks? Yes. And have they power of sight?[*](The quibble is on the double meaning of δυνατὰ ὁρᾶν—(a)possible, and (b)able to see. So in what follows, σιγῶντα λέγειν may mean both the speaking of a silent person, or speaking of silent things.) Quite extraordinarily, said Ctesippus. What do they see? he asked. Nothing. Perhaps you do not think they see—you are such a sweet innocent. I should say, Euthydemus, that you have fallen asleep with your eyes open and, if it be possible to speak and at the same time say nothing, that this is what you are doing. Why, asked Dionysodorus, may there not be a speaking of the silent? By no means whatever, replied Ctesippus. Nor a silence of speaking? Still less, he said. Now, when you speak of stones and timbers and irons, are you not speaking of the silent? Not if I walk by a smithy, for there, as they say, the irons speak and cry aloud, when they are touched; so here your wisdom has seduced you into nonsense. But come, you have still to propound me your second point, how on the other hand there may be a silence of speaking. (It struck me that Ctesippus was specially excited on account of his young friend’s presence.) When you are silent, said Euthydemus, are you not making a silence of all things? Yes, he replied. Then it is a silence of speaking things also, if the speaking are among all things. What, said Ctesippus, are not all things silent? I presume not, said Euthydemus. But then, my good sir, do all things speak? Yes, I suppose, at least those that speak. But that is not what I ask, he said: are all things silent or do they speak? Neither and both, said Dionysodorus, snatching the word from him: I am quite sure that is an answer that will baffle you! At this Ctesippus, as his manner was, gave a mighty guffaw, and said: Ah, Euthydemus, your brother has made the argument ambiguous with his both, and is worsted and done for. Then Cleinias was greatly delighted and laughed, so that Ctesippus felt his strength was as the strength of ten: but I fancy Ctesippus—he is such a rogue—had picked up these very words by overhearing the men themselves, since in nobody else of the present age is such wisdom to be found. So I remarked: Why are you laughing, Cleinias, at such serious and beautiful things? What, have you, Socrates, ever yet seen a beautiful thing? asked Dionysodorus. Yes, I have, I replied, and many of them, Dionysodorus.