La. Do you, Socrates, if you like, ask him: I think that I have asked enough.
Soc. I do not see why I should not; and my question will do for both of us.
La. Very good.
Soc. Then tell me, Nicias, or rather tell us, for Laches and I are partners in
the argument: Do you mean to affirm that courage is the knowledge of the
grounds of hope and fear?
Nic. I do.
Soc. And not every man has this knowledge; the physician and the soothsayer
have it not; and they will not be courageous unless they acquire it-that is
what you were saying?
Nic. I was.
Soc. Then this is certainly not a thing which every pig would know, as the
proverb says, and therefore he could not be courageous.
Nic. I think not.
Soc. Clearly not, Nicias; not even such a big pig as the Crommyonian sow would
be called by you courageous. And this I say not as a joke, but because I think
that he who assents to your doctrine, that courage is the knowledge of the
grounds of fear and hope, cannot allow that any wild beast is courageous,
unless he admits that a lion, or a leopard, or perhaps a boar, or any other
animal, has such a degree of wisdom that he knows things which but a few human
beings ever know by reason of their difficulty. He who takes your view of
courage must affirm that a lion, and a stag, and a bull, and a monkey, have
equally little pretensions to courage.
La. Capital, Socrates; by the gods, that is truly good. And I hope, Nicias,
that you will tell us whether these animals, which we all admit to be
courageous, are really wiser than mankind; or whether you will have the
boldness, in the face of universal opinion, to deny their courage.