Fear not, he replied, for your audience will not be hard upon you; they are not sceptical or hostile.
I said: My good friend, I suppose that you mean to encourage me by these words.
Yes, he said.
Then let me tell you that you are doing just the reverse; the encouragement which you offer would have been all very well had I myself believed that I knew what I was talking about. To declare the truth about matters of high interest which a man honors and loves, among wise men who love him, need occasion no fear or faltering in his mind; but to carry on an argument when you are yourself only a hesitating inquirer, which is my condition, is a dangerous and slippery thing; and the danger is not that I shall be laughed at (of which the fear would be childish), but that I shall miss the truth where I have most need to be sure of my footing, and drag my friends after me in my fall. And I pray Nemesis not to visit upon me the words which I am going to utter. For I do indeed believe that to be an involuntary homicide is a less crime than to be a deceiver about beauty, or goodness, or justice, in the matter of laws.[1] And that is a risk which I would rather run among enemies than among friends; and therefore you do well to encourage me.[2]
Glaucon laughed and said: Well, then, Socrates, in case you and your argument do us any serious injury you shall be acquitted beforehand of the homicide, and shall not be held to be a deceiver; take courage then and speak.
Well, I said, the law says that when a man is acquitted he is free from guilt, and what holds at law may hold in argument.
Then why should you mind?
Well, I replied, I suppose that I must retrace my steps and say what I perhaps ought to have said before in the proper place. The part of the men has been played out, and now properly enough comes the turn of the women. Of them I will proceed to speak, and the more readily since I am invited by you.
For men born and educated like our citizens, the only way, in my opinion, of arriving at a right conclusion about the pos-
