Crito: And do you mean, Socrates, that the youngster said all this?
Socrates: Are you incredulous, Crito?
Crito: Indeed, I am; for if he did say so, then in my opinion he needs neither Euthydemus nor anyone else to be his instructor.
Socrates: Perhaps I may have forgotten, and Ctesippus was the real answerer.
Crito: Ctesippus! nonsense.
Socrates: All I know is that I heard these words, and that they were not spoken either by Euthydemus or Dionysodorus. I dare say, my good Crito, that they may have been spoken by some superior person: that I heard them I am certain.
Crito: Yes, indeed, Socrates, by someone a good deal superior, as I should be disposed to think. But did you carry the search any further, and did you find the art which you were seeking?
Socrates: Find! my dear sir, no indeed. And we cut a poor figure; we were like children after larks, always on the point of catching the art, which was always getting away from us. But why should I repeat the whole story? At last we came to the kingly art, and enquired whether that gave and caused happiness, and then we got into a labyrinth, and when we thought we were at the end, came out again at the beginning, having still to seek as much as ever.
Crito: How did that happen, Socrates?
Socrates: I will tell you; the kingly art was identified by us with the political.
Crito: Well, and what came of that?
Socrates: To this royal or political art all the arts, including the art of the general, seemed to render up the supremacy, that being the only one which knew how to use what they produce. Here obviously was the very art which we were seeking—the art which is the source of good government, and which may be described, in the language of Aeschylus, as alone sitting at the helm of the vessel of state, piloting and governing all things, and utilizing them.
Crito: And were you not right, Socrates?
Socrates: You shall judge, Crito, if you are willing to hear what followed; for we resumed the enquiry, and a question of this sort was asked: Does the kingly art, having this supreme authority, do anything for us? To be sure, was the answer. And would not you, Crito, say the same?
Crito: Yes, I should.
Socrates: And what would you say that the kingly art does? If medicine were supposed to have supreme authority over the subordinate arts, and I were to ask you a similar question about that, you would say—it produces health?
Crito: I should.
Socrates: And what of your own art of husbandry, supposing that to have supreme authority over the subject arts—what does that do? Does it not supply us with the fruits of the earth?
Crito: Yes.
Socrates: And what does the kingly art do when invested with supreme power? Perhaps you may not be ready with an answer?
Crito: Indeed I am not, Socrates.
Socrates: No more were we, Crito. But at any rate you know that if this is the art which we were seeking, it ought to be useful.
Crito: Certainly.
Socrates: And surely it ought to do us some good?
Crito: Certainly, Socrates.