Lysis

Plato · David Horan

I was making my way from the Academy directly to the Lyceum, along the road outside the wall, under the wall itself. But when I reached the gate at the spring of Panops, I came across Hippothales there, the son of Hieronymus, along with Ctesippus of Paeania, and there were other young men with them standing together in a group. And when Hippothales saw me approaching, he said, “Socrates, where are you going, and where have you come from?” “From the Academy,” said I. “I am making my way directly to the Lyceum.” “Come here,” he said, “directly to us. Will you not join us? It will be well worth your while.” “Where do you mean,” I asked, “and whom should I join?” “Here,” he replied, showing me an enclosure of sorts with its door open, just opposite the wall. “Here is where we spend our time, ourselves and others, a great many others, handsome too.” “But what is this, and what do you spend …

Editions (plain text / reader):

• David Horan (this edition) — read
• Benjamin Jowett — read
• W.R.M. Lamb (Loeb, 1925) — read
• Greek text — read
• Spanish — read
• Thomas Taylor (1804) — read

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