ATHENIAN: After the great destruction, may we not suppose that the state of man was something of this sort:—In the beginning of things there was a fearful illimitable desert and a vast expanse of land; a herd or two of oxen would be the only survivors of the animal world; and there might be a few goats, these too hardly enough to maintain the shepherds who tended them?
CLEINIAS: True.
ATHENIAN: And of cities or governments or legislation, about which we are now talking, do you suppose that they could have any recollection at all?
CLEINIAS: None whatever.
ATHENIAN: And out of this state of things has there not sprung all that we now are and have: cities and governments, and arts and laws, and a great deal of vice and a great deal of virtue?
CLEINIAS: What do you mean?
ATHENIAN: Why, my good friend, how can we possibly suppose that those who knew nothing of all the good and evil of cities could have attained their full development, whether of virtue or of vice?
CLEINIAS: I understand your meaning, and you are quite right.
ATHENIAN: But, as time advanced and the race multiplied, the world came to be what the world is.
CLEINIAS: Very true.