Fr. Where have you been now, Socrates? Ah, but of course you have been in chase of Alcibiades and his youthful beauty! Well, only the other day, as I looked at him, I thought him still handsome as a man—for a man he is, Socrates, between you and me, and with quite a growth of beard. Soc. And what of that? Do you mean to say you do not approve of Homer, Hom. Il.24.348 who said that youth has highest grace in him whose beard is appearing, as now in the case of Alcibiades? Fr. Then how is the affair at present? Have you been with him just now? And how is the young man treating you? Soc. Quite well, I considered, and especially so today: for he spoke a good deal on my side, supporting me in a discussion—in fact I have only just left him. However, there is a strange thing I have to tell you: although he was present, I not merely paid him no attention, but at times forgot him altogether. Fr. Why, what can have happened between you and him? Something serious! For surely you did not find anyone else of greater beauty there,—no, not in our city. Soc. Yes, of far greater. Fr. What do you say? One of our people, or a foreigner? Soc. A foreigner. Fr. Of what city? Soc. Abdera . Fr. And you found this foreigner so beautiful that he appeared to you of greater beauty than the son of Cleinias? Soc. Why, my good sir, must not the wisest appear more beautiful? Fr. Do you mean it was some wise man that you met just now? Soc. Nay, rather the wisest of our generation, I may tell you, if wisest is what you agree to call Protagoras. Fr. Ah, what a piece of news! Protagoras come to town! Soc. Yes, two days ago. Fr. And it was his company that you left just now? Soc. Yes, and a great deal I said to him, and he to me. Fr. Then do let us hear your account of the conversation at once, if you are disengaged take my boy’s place, The friend had an attendant who was sitting by him. and sit here. Soc. Very good indeed, I shall be obliged to you, if you will listen. Fr. And we also to you, I assure you, if you will tell us. Soc. A twofold obligation. Well now, listen. During this night just past, in the small hours, Hippocrates, son of Apollodorus and brother of Phason, knocked violently at my door with his stick, and when they opened to him he came hurrying in at once and calling to me in a loud voice: Socrates, are you awake, or sleeping? Then I, recognizing his voice, said: Hippocrates, hallo! Some news to break to me? Only good news, he replied. Tell it, and welcome, I said: what is it, and what business brings you here at such an hour? Protagoras has come, he said, standing at my side. Yes, two days ago, I said: have you only just heard? Yes, by Heaven! he replied, last evening. With this he groped about for the bedstead, and sitting down by my feet he said: It was in the evening, after I had got in very late from Oenoe. My boy Satyrus, you see, had run away: I meant to let you know I was going in chase of him, but some other matter put it out of my head. On my return, when we had finished dinner and were about to retire, my brother told me, only then, that Protagoras had come. I made an effort, even at that hour, to get to you at once, but came to the conclusion that it was too late at night. But as soon as I had slept off my fatigue I got up at once and made my way straight here. Then I, noting the man’s gallant spirit and the flutter he was in, remarked: Well, what is that to you? Has Protagoras wronged you? At this he laughed and, Yes, by the gods! he said, by being the only wise man, and not making me one. But, by Zeus! I said, if you give him a fee and win him over he will make you wise too. Would to Zeus and all the gods, he exclaimed, only that were needed! I should not spare either my own pocket or those of my friends. But it is on this very account I have come to you now, to see if you will have a talk with him on my behalf: for one thing, I am too young to do it myself; and for another, I have never yet seen Protagoras nor heard him speak a word—I was but a child when he paid us his previous visit.