And, beyond that, I was myself filled with delight, like a hunter, at the satisfaction of getting hold of what I was hunting; when somehow or other a most unaccountable suspicion came over me that the conclusion to which we had agreed was not true. So at once I exclaimed in vexation: Alack-a-day, Lysis and Menexenus! I fear our new-gotten riches are all a dream. 218d
How on earth is that? said Menexenus.
I am afraid, I replied, that in our search for friendship we have struck up with arguments that are no better than a set of braggarts.
How so? he asked.
Just consider a moment, I said. When a man is a friend, is he friend to some one or not? He needs be, he replied. Then is he so for the sake of nothing and because of nothing, or for the sake of something and because of something? For the sake of something, and because of something. Is it a friend—that thing for whose sake he is a friend to his friend—or is it neither friend nor foe? I do not quite follow, he said. 218e Naturally enough, said I; but perhaps you will keep up if we try it another way, and I expect that I too will better understand what I am saying. The sick man, we said just now, is a friend to the doctor; is not that so? Yes. Then is it because of disease, for the sake of health, that he is a friend of the doctor? Yes. And disease is a bad thing? Of course. But what is health? I asked: a good thing, or a bad, or neither?
Lysis. Plato. Walter Rangeley Maitland Lamb (Translator). Cambridge, MA. 1925.
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