Contempt is the armour of snakes.
Phedro [his face undergoing a change]
Is it truly, my fine gentleman? Well, my mind has been wandering and stumbled on a cul-de-sac as usual. Ah, the hope of being understood—it is almost extinct. However, if I cannot be understood, I shall, nevertheless, be felt.
Ursus
Well, what do you want of me? I am a philosopher and as such am not occupied with any sort of facts.
Phedro
I suppose not. You philosophers are blind men in dark rooms looking for the footprints of shadows, are you not?
Ursus [smiling]
Not at all. We philosophers have merely learned to practice humour in the presence of what is commonplace. But what is it you do want of me?
Phedro