The Works of Plato

— What if we were to designate him, Socrates, as one who is in charge of making people skilled in speaking? original: "Τί ἄν, εἰ εἴποιμεν αὐτὸν εἶναι, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἐπιστάτην τοῦ ποιῆσαι δεινὸν λέγειν;"

— Perhaps, I say, we would be speaking correctly, but not sufficiently; because this answer of ours demands a further question: in speaking about what does the sophist make people skilled? As, for instance, a kitharist makes a person skilled in speaking about the very thing he makes them an expert in—I mean playing the kithara a type of ancient Greek lyre original: "περὶ κιθαρίσεως."; is that so?

— Yes.

— Very well; and he, the sophist, in speaking about what does he make one skilled? Is it not clear that it is about that in which he himself is knowledgeable?

— That seems likely.

— And what is this thing, in which the sophist himself is knowledgeable and makes his student the same?

— By God, he says, I cannot tell you anything more.

313 V. And I said to this: "Well, how can that be? Do you know to what danger you are about to expose your soul? If you had to entrust your body to someone, which could lead to one of two outcomes original: "διακινδυνεύοντα ἤ — ἤ" — risking one of two: either or.—either for benefit or for harm—you would surely think it over many times, whether to entrust it or not, and would call upon friends and family for consultation, considering the matter for days. But as for your soul, which you consider to be something greater than the body, and upon the improvement or decline of which depends whether all your affairs go well or poorly original: "καὶ ἐν ᾧ πάντ᾽ ἐστὶν τὰ σὰ ἢ εὖ ἢ κακῶς πράττειν."—regarding this, you have not consulted with your father, nor your brother, nor any of us, your companions—whether you should entrust your soul to this visiting foreigner or not. Instead, having only heard of him yesterday, as you say, you go early in the morning without any reflection or consultation on whether you should entrust yourself to him or not, and are ready to spend both your own money and the money of your friends, as if you had definitively ascertained that you must join Protagoras—whom, you say, you do not even know and have never spoken to; you call him a sophist, but what a sophist is—it turns out you do not know at all—yet you wish to entrust yourself to him."