Phaedrus. We have need of these arguments, Socrates. Bring them here and examine their words and their meaning. Socrates. Come here, then, noble creatures, and persuade the fair young Phaedrus that unless he pay proper attention to philosophy he will never be able to speak properly about anything. And let Phaedrus answer. Phaedrus. Ask your questions. Socrates. Is not rhetoric in its entire nature an art which leads the soul by means of words, not only in law courts and the various other public assemblages,
 but in private companies as well? And is it not the same when concerned with small things as with great, and, properly speaking, no more to be esteemed in important than in trifling matters? Is this what you have heard? Phaedrus. No, by Zeus, not that exactly; but the art of speaking and writing is exercised chiefly in lawsuits, and that of speaking also in public assemblies; and I never heard of any further uses. Socrates. Then you have heard only of the treatises on rhetoric by Nestor and Odysseus, which they wrote
 when they had nothing to do at Troy , and you have not heard of that by Palamedes? Phaedrus. Nor of Nestor’s either, unless you are disguising Gorgias under the name of Nestor and Thrasymachus or Theodorus under that of Odysseus. Socrates. Perhaps I am. However, never mind them; but tell me, what do the parties in a lawsuit do in court? Do they not contend in speech, or what shall we say they do? Phaedrus. Exactly that. Socrates. About the just and the unjust? Phaedrus. Yes. Socrates. Then he whose speaking is an art will make
 the same thing appear to the same persons at one time just and at another, if he wishes, unjust? Phaedrus. Certainly. Socrates. And in political speaking he will make the same things seem to the State at one time good and at another the opposite? Phaedrus. Just so. Socrates. Do we not know that the Eleatic Palamedes (Zeno) has such an art of speaking that the same things appear to his hearers to be alike and unlike, one and many, stationary and in motion? Phaedrus. Certainly. Socrates. Then the art of contention in speech
 is not confined to courts and political gatherings, but apparently, if it is an art at all, it would be one and the same in all kinds of speaking, the art by which a man will be able to produce a resemblance between all things between which it can be produced, and to bring to the light the resemblances produced and disguised by anyone else. Phaedrus. What do you mean by that? Socrates. I think it will be plain if we examine the matter in this way. Is deception easier when there is much difference between things or when there is little? Phaedrus. When there is little. Socrates. And if you make a transition by small steps from anything to its opposite you will be more likely to escape detection than if you proceed by leaps and bounds. Phaedrus. Of course. Socrates. Then he who is to deceive another, and is not to be deceived himself, must know accurately the similarity and dissimilarity of things. Phaedrus. Yes, he must. Socrates. Now will he be able, not knowing the truth about a given thing, to recognize in other things the great or small
 degree of likeness to that which he does not know? Phaedrus. It is impossible. Socrates. In the case, then, of those whose opinions are at variance with facts and who are deceived, this error evidently slips in through some resemblances. Phaedrus. It does happen in that way. Socrates. Then he who does not understand the real nature of things will not possess the art of making his hearers pass from one thing to its opposite by leading them through the intervening resemblances, or of avoiding such deception himself? Phaedrus. Never in the world. Socrates. Then, my friend, he who knows not the truth, but pursues opinions, will, it seems, attain an art of speech which is ridiculous, and not an art at all. Phaedrus. Probably. Socrates. Shall we look in the speech of Lysias, which you have with you, and in what I said, for something which we think shows art and the lack of art? Phaedrus. By all means, for now our talk is too abstract, since we lack sufficient examples. Socrates. And by some special good fortune, as it seems,
 the two discourses contain an example of the way in which one who knows the truth may lead his hearers on with sportive words; and I, Phaedrus, think the divinities of the place are the cause thereof; and perhaps too, the prophets of the Muses, who are singing above our heads, may have granted this boon to us by inspiration; at any rate, I possess no art of speaking. Phaedrus. So be it; only make your meaning clear. Socrates. Read me the beginning of Lysias’ discourse. Phaedrus. You know what my condition is, and you have heard how I think it is to our advantage to arrange these matters. And I claim that I ought not to be refused what I ask because I am not your lover. For lovers repent of— Socrates. Stop. Now we must tell what there is in this that is faulty and lacks art, must we not?