Translation Cons. Phil. Book 1 Prosa 2
1 `But now,' said she, 'is the time for the physician's art, rather than for complaining.'
2 Then fixing her eyes wholly on me, she said, `Are you the man who was nourished upon the milk of my learning, brought up with my food until you had won your way to the power of a manly soul?
3 Surely I had given you such weapons as would keep you safe, and your strength unconquered; if you had not thrown them away.
4 Do you know me? Why do you keep silence ? Are you dumb from shame or from dull amazement? I would it were from shame, but I see that amazement has overwhelmed you.'
5 When she saw that I was not only silent, but utter]y tongue-tied and dumb, she put her hand gently upon my breast, and said, `There is no danger: he is suffering from drowsiness, that disease which attacks so many minds which have been deceived.
6 He has forgotten himself for a moment and will quickly remember, as soon as he recognises me. That he may do so, let me brush away from his eyes the darkening cloud of thoughts of matters perishable.'
7 So saying, she gathered her robe into a fold and dried my swimming eyes.