Theaetetus

​SOCRATES: Of whom one is Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, and there are very many others. When they come back, begging for my company and doing extraordinary things, with some of them the divine sign that comes to me forbids me to associate, but with others it allows, and these again make progress. And those who associate with me experience this same thing as women in labor: they suffer labor pains and are filled with perplexity night and day far more than those women. But to arouse this labor pain and to soothe it, my art is able. And these indeed are so. But for some, Theaetetus, who do not seem to me to be at all pregnant, recognizing that they have no need of me, I very kindly match them, and, with god’s help, I guess very successfully with whom they would benefit by associating; many of them I have given over to Prodicus, and many to other wise and inspired men. I have lengthened this story for you, my excellent friend, for this reason: I suspect that you, as you yourself think, are in labor with something pregnant within you. Come, therefore, to me as to the son of a midwife who is himself a practitioner of the art, and strive to answer what I ask in whatever way you can. And if, when I examine something of what you say, I should consider it a phantom and not true, and then secretly take it away and cast it aside, do not be angry with me like women who are having their first child over their babies. For many, my wonderful boy, have been so disposed toward me that they were ready to bite me, when I took away some nonsense of theirs, and they do not think that I do this out of goodwill, being far from knowing that no god is ill-disposed to men, nor do I do any such thing out of ill-will, but it is by no means permitted for me to yield to falsehood and to suppress the truth. So, back again from the beginning, Theaetetus, try to say what knowledge is; and never say that you are not able. For if god wills and you act like a man, you will be able. THEAETETUS: But indeed, Socrates, when you encourage me in this way, it would be shameful not to strive in every way to say what one has in mind. It seems to me, then, that he who knows something perceives that which he knows, and as it appears at present, knowledge is nothing other than perception. SOCRATES: Well and nobly said, my boy; for one must speak out in this way when declaring his opinion. But come now, let us examine it together, to see whether it is a fertile offspring or a wind-egg. Perception, you say, is knowledge? THEAETETUS: Yes.