SOCRATES. Well, Demodocus, since he has referred the matter to me, let us examine it. Are we to send him to one of the sophists who claim to teach political virtue, charging a fee for their instruction? Or should we seek out someone else?

DEMODOCUS. I think, Socrates, we should examine whether it is safe to trust these men. I hear many strange things about them.

SOCRATES. What sort of things?

DEMODOCUS. That they are corrupters of the youth. That they teach them to despise the laws and customs of their fathers, and make them arrogant and disobedient.

SOCRATES. If that is true, then they would not be teachers of political virtue, but of political vice. What do you say to this, Theages? Do you still want to go to them?

THEAGES. I do not care what people say about them, Socrates. I know that many young men go to them and become very clever and capable speakers. That is what I want.

SOCRATES. But clever speaking is not the same as governing well. Do you want to be a clever speaker, or a good ruler?

THEAGES. A good ruler.

SOCRATES. Then the sophists may not be the right teachers for you, if they only teach how to speak. But let me ask you this, Demodocus. Why did you not send him to me, if you thought I could help?

DEMODOCUS. I would gladly send him to you, Socrates, if you are willing to take him. That is the very reason I brought him here today.

SOCRATES. But I do not profess to know anything, Demodocus, except perhaps one small subject—the subject of love. And I certainly do not profess to teach political virtue or the art of the statesman.

THEAGES. He is just making excuses, father. He does not want to take me as a pupil.

SOCRATES. Why do you say that, Theages?

THEAGES. Because I know many people of my age, and slightly older, who were completely worthless before they associated with you, but after they began spending time with you, they suddenly became superior to everyone. I want that to happen to me.