You have been proved to see that which you do not see; and you have already
admitted that seeing is knowing, and that not-seeing is not-knowing: I
leave you to draw the inference.

THEAETETUS: Yes; the inference is the contradictory of my assertion.

SOCRATES: Yes, my marvel, and there might have been yet worse things in
store for you, if an opponent had gone on to ask whether you can have a
sharp and also a dull knowledge, and whether you can know near, but not at
a distance, or know the same thing with more or less intensity, and so on
without end. Such questions might have been put to you by a light-armed
mercenary, who argued for pay. He would have lain in wait for you, and
when you took up the position, that sense is knowledge, he would have made
an assault upon hearing, smelling, and the other senses;--he would have
shown you no mercy; and while you were lost in envy and admiration of his
wisdom, he would have got you into his net, out of which you would not have
escaped until you had come to an understanding about the sum to be paid for
your release. Well, you ask, and how will Protagoras reinforce his
position? Shall I answer for him?

THEAETETUS: By all means.

SOCRATES: He will repeat all those things which we have been urging on his
behalf, and then he will close with us in disdain, and say:--The worthy
Socrates asked a little boy, whether the same man could remember and not
know the same thing, and the boy said No, because he was frightened, and
could not see what was coming, and then Socrates made fun of poor me. The
truth is, O slatternly Socrates, that when you ask questions about any
assertion of mine, and the person asked is found tripping, if he has
answered as I should have answered, then I am refuted, but if he answers