The Shadow: Since I haven’t heard your voice in so long, I would like to give you an opportunity to speak.The Wanderer: Someone said something—where? and who? It almost seems as if I myself were speaking, though in an even weaker voice than mine.The Shadow (after a pause): Are you not happy to have an opportunity to speak?The Wanderer: By God and all things, in which I do not believe, my shadow speaks; I hear it, but I don’t believe it.The Shadow: Let’s accept it and don’t continue to think about it—in one hour it will all be over.The Wanderer: That’s what I thought, when I saw two and then five camels in a forest near Pisa.The Shadow: It’s good, that we are both indulgent in the same way, if our reason stands still: thus we will not become annoying and press each other in conversation when something sounds incomprehensible to us. If one does not know how to answer, then it is already enough to say something—that’s the reasonable policy under which I agree to converse. With longer discussions, the wisest one becomes once the fool and three times the dullard.The Wanderer: Your modesty is not complimentary to your confessor.The Shadow: Am I to flatter?The Wanderer: I thought a man’s shadow was his vanity, but his vanity would never ask: “Am I to flatter?”The Shadow: Nor would man’s vanity, as far as I know, inquire—as I did twice already—whether it could speak: it always speaks.The Wanderer: Only now do I notice how impolite I am, my beloved shadow: I have not said a word about how pleased I am to see you as well as hear you. You should know that I love the shadow as much as I cherish the light. For facial beauty, clarity of speech, quality and firmness of character, shadow is as necessary as light. They are not opponents: they are rather affectionate, holding hands—and if the light disappears, the shadow slips away after it.The Shadow: And I hate the same thing you hate: the night; I love human beings, because they are devotees of light and I’m pleased when their eyes shine as they discern and discover knowledge—untiring knowers and discoverers that they are. That shadow, which all things cast, if the sunshine of perception falls upon them—that shadow am I as well.The Wanderer: I believe I understand you, despite your somewhat shadowy expressions. But you were right: good friends give each other—here and there—a cryptic word as a sign of agreement, which should be a mystery to any third party. And we are good friends. Therefore, let’s dispense with the preliminaries! A few hundred questions press upon my soul, and the time you have to answer them is perhaps only brief. Let’s see what, in all haste and peaceableness, we can agree upon.The Shadow: But shadows are shier than human beings: you won’t tell anyone how we have spoken together!The Wanderer: How we have spoken together? Heaven forfend! especially from long drawn-out literary discussions. If Plato had less desire to “spin” his readers, they would find more pleasure in Plato. A really amusing discussion—when written down—is merely a painting with false perspectives: everything is too long or too short—nevertheless, perhaps you’ll allow me to indicate what we agreed upon?The Shadow: I’m happy with that, since everyone will recognize therein only your opinions—nobody will think of the shadow.The Wanderer: Perhaps you are wrong, my friend! Up to now one assumed in my opinions more of shadow than of me.The Shadow: More shadow than light? Is it possible?The Wanderer: Dear fool, be serious! My first question requires seriousness.