“Ah, wisdom! That’s Zanaida’s biggest problem. We don’t have wisdom,” said Lord Franusla in lamentation.
“And we don’t have wisdom because…” Lord Franusla was a bit hesitant at first, but then he continued, “… because… Uh, I’m not saying this because we envy the Greeks, but we don’t have wisdom because we don’t have philosophers. In fact, we can’t produce one.”
Kasheva was listening attentively.
Lord Franusla continued, “We need philosophers. Yes philosopher in its real meaning: those who love wisdom. We don’t need smart people who show off their intellect but leave us the commoners in confusion. What we need is people who can inspire us, those who can share their wisdom with us, pave the way for us, and help us to ignite our passion to develop our knowledge and civilization.”
Kasheva understood Zanaida’s longing for wisdom, but he also knew that wisdom is not exclusive to philosophers. He replied, “My Lord. When a society cannot produce a philosopher to speak its mind, it longs for a poet to sing its heart.”
Lord Franusla was silent for a moment. Then, gazing at Kasheva, he replied, “I can see that’s the divine reason for your presence in Zanaida.”