SOCRATES. But the truth is, Ion, if what you say is correct—that you praise Homer by an art and by knowledge—then you are treating me unjustly. You promised to show me your many fine thoughts about Homer, but you are deceiving me. You will not even tell me what subjects you speak so well on, though I have begged you repeatedly to do so. You act like Proteus, transforming into every shape, twisting and turning, until finally you slip away and appear as a general, just so you can avoid demonstrating how wonderfully you are skilled in Homer! If you truly possess this art, then, as I said, you are treating me unjustly by promising to display it and then deceiving me. But if you do not possess an art, and are instead possessed by a divine dispensation from the Muse—so that you say many beautiful things about the poet without possessing any knowledge, exactly as I said about you—then you are not acting unjustly. Choose, then, how you would like me to think of you: as an unjust man, or as a divine one?

ION. There is a great difference, Socrates. It is far more beautiful to be considered divine.

SOCRATES. Then this more beautiful title we grant to you, Ion: you are a divine praiser of Homer, not an expert by art.