Mr. F.: Most certainly not.
Soc.: Then it is not between the written and the printed word that the difference lies?
Mr. F.: It would seem not.
Soc.: Then where does it lie?
Mr. F.: I do not know, Socrates.
Soc.: Then we must surely assume that there is no difference; and we must further add that you have not dealt honestly with your form in so severely punishing them for conduct that you, yourself, are not able logically to condemn.
Mr. F.: As ever, Socrates, you have succeeded in making me say what I did not mean to say.
Soc.: Then, in order that you may extricate yourself, let us consider this question of the prose.
Mr. F.: Certainly. For, here at least, my position is impregnable.
Soc.: I, too, am certain of it, and, in order that I may know the true nature of the offence, you will, I hope, permit me to ask you certain questions. You say that the more stupid members of your form are in the habit of copying the exercises of their more clever comrades?