?

The latter, he said.

Then that which is neither good nor evil may be in the presence of evil,
but not as yet evil, and that has happened before now?

Yes.

And when anything is in the presence of evil, not being as yet evil,
the presence of good arouses the desire of good in that thing; but the
presence of evil, which makes a thing evil, takes away the desire and
friendship of the good; for that which was once both good and evil has
now become evil only, and the good was supposed to have no friendship
with the evil?

None.

And therefore we say that those who are already wise, whether Gods or
men, are no longer lovers of wisdom; nor can they be lovers of wisdom
who are ignorant to the extent of being evil, for no evil or ignorant
person is a lover of wisdom. There remain those who have the misfortune
to be ignorant, but are not yet hardened in their ignorance, or void of
understanding, and do not as yet fancy that they know what they do
not know: and therefore those who are the lovers of wisdom are as yet
neither good nor bad. But the bad do not love wisdom any more than the
good; for, as we have already seen, neither is unlike the friend of
unlike, nor like of like. You remember that?

Yes, they both said.

And so, Lysis and Menexenus, we have discovered the nature of
friendship--there can be no doubt of it: Friendship is the love which
by reason of the presence of evil the neither good nor evil has of the
good, either in the soul, or in the body, or anywhere.

They both agreed and entirely assented, and for a moment I rejoiced and
was satisfied like a huntsman just holding fast his prey. But then
a most unaccountable suspicion came across me, and I felt that
the conclusion was untrue. I was pained, and said, Alas! Lysis and
Menexenus, I am afraid that we have been grasping at a shadow only.

Why do you say so? said Menexenus.

I am afraid, I said, that the argument about friendship is false:
arguments, like men, are often pretenders.

How do you mean? he asked.

Well, I said; look at the matter in this way: a friend is the friend of
some one; is he not?

Certainly he is.

And has he a motive and object in being a friend, or has he no motive
and object?

He has a motive and object.

And is the object which makes him a friend, dear to him, or neither dear
nor hateful to him?

I do not quite follow you, he said.

I do not wonder at that, I said. But perhaps, if I put the matter in
another