So neither the sins nor laziness of the body,
Nor its foul vices, are fully able
To wrest from the mind its righteous nature
In any mortal. Though that a man
By the sins of his body, and by its laziness also,
And by vice be assailed for many a season,
And though that his mind be grievously marred
With the foul curse of careless folly,
And a fog of error float before
The dreary spirit of the sons of men,
So that it cannot shine at all so clearly
As it would do if it were able,
Yet there remains ever retained
Some seed of the truth in the soul of man,
So long as united it lives with body.
This corn of seed is ever quickened
By means of inquiry, and afterwards also
With good teaching, if it is to grow.
How may any man make out an answer
To anything asked, by aid of reason,
Though others ask him after it righteously,
Closely inquiring, if he contains
In his own mind neither much nor little
Of righteousness in him nor anything of reason?
Yet no man lives that is so lacking,
So utterly robbed and void of reason,
That he is unable the answer to find
Locked in his breast if others beg him.
For this is true, the proverb that our Plato,
The ancient sage, once said unto us:
