17.6
For my part, Ischomachus, I think it is best to sow for succession throughout the season. For in my opinion it is much better to get enough food at all times than too much at one time and not enough at another. Here again, then, Socrates, pupil and teacher are of one opinion; and, moreover, you, the pupil, are first in stating this opinion.
17.7
Well now, is casting the seed a complicated problem? By all means let us take that also into consideration, Socrates. I presume that you know as well as I that the seed must be cast by the hand? Yes, I have seen it. Ah, he said, but some men can cast evenly, and some cannot. Then sowers no less than lyre-players need practice, that the hand may be the servant of the will. Certainly.
17.8
But suppose that some of the land is rather light and some rather heavy? What do you mean by that? I interrupted. By light do you mean weak, and by heavy, strong? Yes, I do; and I ask you whether you would give the same quantity of seed to both kinds, or to which you would give more?
17.9
Well, my principle is this: the stronger the wine, the more water I add; the stronger the bearer, the heavier the burden I put on his back; and if it is necessary to feed others, I should require the richest men to feed the greatest number. But tell me whether weak land, like draught animals, becomes stronger when you put more corn into it.
17.10
Ah, you’re joking, Socrates, he said, laughing, but allow me to tell you that, if after putting in the seed you plough it in again as soon as the blade appears when the land is obtaining plenty of nourishment from the sky, it makes food for the soil, and strengthens it like manure. If, on the other hand, you let the seed go on growing on the land until it is bolled, it’s hard for weak land to yield much grain in the end. It’s hard, you know, for a weak sow to rear a big litter of fine pigs.
