3.7
Then you must watch, and try by experiment whether you are capable of understanding. At present I observe that when a comedy is to be seen, you get up very early and walk a very long way and press me eagerly to go to the play with you. But you have never yet invited me to see a drama of real life like this. You think me ridiculous, don’t you, Socrates? You think yourself far more so, I am sure.
3.8
And suppose I show you that some have been brought to penury by keeping horses, while others prosper by doing so, and moreover glory in their gain? Well, I too see and know instances of both; I am not one of the gainers for all that.
3.9
The fact is you watch them just as you watch the actors in tragedy or comedy, not, I suppose, to become a playwright, but for the pleasure of seeing and hearing something. And perhaps there is no harm in that, because you don’t want to write plays; but seeing that you are forced to meddle with horses, don’t you think that common-sense requires you to see that you are not ignorant of the business, the more so as the self-same horses are both good to use and profitable to sell?
3.10
Would you have me break in colts, Socrates? Of course not, no more than I would have you buy children to train as agricultural labourers; but horses and human beings alike, I think, on reaching a certain age forthwith become useful and go on improving. I can also show you that husbands differ widely in their treatment of their wives, and some succeed in winning their co-operation and thereby increase their estates, while others bring utter ruin on their houses by their behaviour to them.
