tainly, Socrates, he said; I will do my best.

I was pleased at hearing this; and I turned to Dionysodorus and
Euthydemus and said: That is an example, clumsy and tedious I admit, of
the sort of exhortations which I would have you give; and I hope that
one of you will set forth what I have been saying in a more artistic
style: or at least take up the enquiry where I left off, and proceed to
show the youth whether he should have all knowledge; or whether there is
one sort of knowledge only which will make him good and happy, and what
that is. For, as I was saying at first, the improvement of this young
man in virtue and wisdom is a matter which we have very much at heart.

Thus I spoke, Crito, and was all attention to what was coming. I wanted
to see how they would approach the question, and where they would start
in their exhortation to the young man that he should practise wisdom and
virtue. Dionysodorus, who was the elder, spoke first. Everybody's eyes
were directed towards him, perceiving that something wonderful might
shortly be expected. And certainly they were not far wrong; for the man,
Crito, began a remarkable discourse well worth hearing, and wonderfully
persuasive regarded as an exhortation to virtue.

Tell me, he said, Socrates and the rest of you who say that you want
this young man to become wise, are you in jest or in real earnest?

I was led by this to imagine that they fancied us to have been jesting
when we asked them to converse with the youth, and that this made them
jest and play, and being under this impression, I was the more decided
in saying that we were in profound earnest. Dionysodorus said:

Reflect, Socrates; you may have to deny your words.

I have reflected, I said; and I shall never deny my words.

Well, said he, and so you say that you wish Cleinias to become wise?

Undoubtedly.

And he is not wise as yet?

At least his modesty will not allow him to say that he is.

You wish him, he said, to become wise and not, to be ignorant?

That we do.

You wish him to be what he is not, and no longer to be what he is?

I was thrown into consternation at this.

Taking advantage of my consternation he added: You wish him no longer to
be what he is, which can only mean that you wish him to perish. Pretty
lovers and friends they must be who want their favourite not to be, or
to perish!

When Ctesippus heard this he got very angry (as a lover well might) and
said: Stranger of Thurii--i