Cratylus. The lawgivers, as you said in the beginning. Socrates. Shall we declare that this art arises in men like the other arts, or not? What I mean is this: Some painters are better, and others worse, are they not? Cratylus. Certainly. Socrates. And the better produce better works—that is, their paintings—and the others worse works? And likewise some builders build better houses and others worse? Cratylus. Yes.
 Socrates. Then do some lawgivers produce better, and others worse works? Cratylus. No; at that point I cease to agree. Socrates. Then you do not think that some laws are better, and some worse? Cratylus. No, I do not. Socrates. And you do not, it appears, think that one name is better, and another worse? Cratylus. No, I do not. Socrates. Then all names are correct? Cratylus. All that are really names. Socrates. How about the name of our friend Hermogenes,
 which was mentioned a while ago? Shall we say that it is not his name at all, unless he belongs to the race of Hermes, or that it is his name, but is incorrect? Cratylus. I think, Socrates, that it is not his name at all; it appears to be his, but is really the name of some one else who possesses the nature that makes the name clear. Socrates. And when anyone says that our friend is Hermogenes, is he not even speaking falsely? For perhaps it is not even possible to say that he is Hermogenes, if he is not. Cratylus. What do you mean? Socrates. Do you mean to say that it is impossible to speak falsehood at all?
 For there are, my dear Cratylus, many who do so, and who have done so in the past. Cratylus. Why, Socrates, how could anyone who says that which he says, say that which is not? Is not falsehood saying that which is not? Socrates. Your reasoning is too clever for me at my age, my friend. However, tell me this: Do you think it is possible to speak falsehood,
 but not to say it? Cratylus. Neither to speak nor to say it. Socrates. Nor utter it or use it as a form of address? For instance, if some one should meet you in hospitable fashion, should grasp your hand and say, Well met, my friend from Athens , son of Smicrion, Hermogenes, would he be saying or speaking or uttering or addressing these words not to you, but to Hermogenes—or to nobody? Cratylus. I think, Socrates, the man would be producing sounds without sense. Socrates. Even that reply is welcome;
 for I can ask whether the words he produced would be true, or false, or partly true and partly false. Even that would suffice. Cratylus. I should say that the man in such a case was merely making a noise, going through purposeless motions, as if he were beating a bronze pot. Socrates. Let us see, Cratylus, if we cannot come to terms somehow. You would agree, would you not, that the name is one thing and the thing of which it is the name is another? Cratylus. Yes, I should. Socrates. And you agree that the name is an imitation
 of the thing named? Cratylus. Most assuredly. Socrates. And you agree that paintings also are imitations, though in a different way, of things? Cratylus. Yes. Socrates. Well then—for perhaps I do not understand, and you may be right—can both of these imitations, the paintings and the names, be assigned and applied to the things which they imitate, or not?
 Cratylus. They can. Socrates. First, then, consider this question: Can we assign the likeness of the man to the man and that of the woman to the woman, and so forth? Cratylus. Certainly. Socrates. And can we conversely attribute that of the man to the woman, and the woman’s to the man? Cratylus. That is also possible. Socrates. And are these assignments both correct, or only the former? Cratylus. The former. Socrates. The assignment, in short, which attributes to each that which belongs to it and is like it. Cratylus. That is my view. Socrates. To put an end to contentious argument between you and me,
 since we are friends, let me state my position. I call that kind of assignment in the case of both imitations paintings and names—correct, and in the case of names not only correct, but true; and the other kind, which gives and applies the unlike imitation, I call incorrect and, in the case of names, false. Cratylus. But it may be, Socrates, that this incorrect assignment is possible in the case of paintings, and not in the case of names,
 which must be always correctly assigned. Socrates. What do you mean? What difference is there between the two? Can I not step up to a man and say to him, This is your portrait, and show him perhaps his own likeness or, perhaps, that of a woman? And by show I mean bring before the sense of sight. Cratylus. Certainly. Socrates. Well, then, can I not step up to the same man again and say, This is your name ? A name is an imitation, just as a picture is.
 Very well; can I not say to him, This is your name, and then bring before his sense of hearing perhaps the imitation of himself, saying that it is a man, or perhaps the imitation of the female of the human species, saying that it is a woman? Do you not believe that this is possible and sometimes happens? Cratylus. I am willing to concede it, Socrates, and grant that you are right. Socrates. That is a good thing for you to do, my friend, if I am right; for now we need no longer argue about the matter.
 If, then, some such assignment of names takes place, we will call one kind speaking truth, and the other speaking falsehood. But if this is accepted, and if it is possible to assign names incorrectly and to give to objects not the names that befit them, but sometimes those that are unfitting, it would be possible to treat verbs in the same way. And if verbs and nouns can be assigned in this way, the same must be true of sentences; for sentences are, I conceive, a combination of verbs and nouns.
 What do you say to that, Cratylus? Cratylus. I agree; I think you are right. Socrates. If, then, we compare the earliest words to sketches, it is possible in them, as in pictures, to reproduce all the colors and shapes, or not all; some may be wanting, and some may be added, and they may be too many or too large. Is not that true? Cratylus. Yes, it is. Socrates. Then he who reproduces all, produces good sketches and pictures, and he who adds or takes away produces also sketches and pictures, but bad ones?
 Cratylus. Yes. Socrates. And how about him who imitates the nature of things by means of letters and syllables? By the same principle, if he gives all that is appropriate, the image—that is to say, the name—will be good, and if he sometimes omits a little, it will be an image, but not a good one; and therefore some names are well and others badly made. Is that not true? Cratylus. Perhaps.
 Socrates. Perhaps, then, one artisan of names will be good, and another bad? Cratylus. Yes. Socrates. The name of such an artisan was lawgiver? Cratylus. Yes. Socrates. Perhaps, then, by Zeus, as is the case in the other arts, one lawgiver may be good and another bad, if we accept our previous conclusions.